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Post by samantha jane mason on Nov 10, 2010 17:48:55 GMT -5
Sam remembered it distinctly, the first time they had started to categorize her days. After regionals, when she tried to off herself for the first time her father was convinced she was crazy. Her mother refused to believe it, the compromise was a therapist. That's when it all started, the good, the bad and the horrible, which she preferred to call the ugly. Good days, which usually were frequent, were days when she was as normal as any teenager. Bad days, were days when she didn't want to get out of bed, when she hated herself. Then there were the ugly days, days when she wanted nothing more than to die. Yesterday was an ugly day. But today had to be a good day, because today her mother was coming to see her.She sat on one of the many benches around the fountain, her legs pulled tight against her chest, practically curled in a ball. It was a nice enough day outside, the sun was shinning and it was fairly cool. Sam was trying to convince herself today was a good day but recovery like this was easier said then done. Normally ugly days were followed by a million and one bad ones. But today couldn't be a bad day, it had to be good. When she woke that morning she knew she needed a release, something that would turn around her mood. Running, she thought, that would surely make a difference. It didn't though, she must have made it half a mile before she freaked out. That was how she ended up at the fountain, curled in a ball like a coward. Part of Sam felt like she was failing because she couldn't be the perfect child they wanted. Failure was the first thing she felt when she thought of her parents. A lot of time failure caused her bad days, but today failure was making her good day hard. "You can do this Sam," she sighed to herself. She could, if she wanted to, that's what they told her. The doctors she met before she came here said it was all in her head. That she would be all better if she stopped being so mental. Sam wondered if they knew how ridiculous they sounded. "Is there anyone in this world who knows what they are talking about?" she wondered allowed. There was no real way of knowing, but she was pretty sure if their name began with doctor they were completely clueless. . words . 414 . outfit . here. mood . good . tags . denny
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Post by denny william holton on Nov 10, 2010 22:40:40 GMT -5
Grey was the only word that Denny could think of to describe his mood. He was teetering between a bad and a good mood so most would say that right now Denny should be categorized as in a pretty normal mood, however that would be a wrong categorization. When Denny is like this he is more susceptible to frequent mood swings. One minute he’ll be grinning like an idiot then next he’ll yell at someone for looking at him wrong. Sometimes the voices in his head are really loud and sometimes they are practically non existent. Being a bipolar schizophrenic wasn’t always the easiest thing for Denny. At the moment Denny didn’t feel like being near too many people, well actually it was best for him to never be in large crowds because there were too many things that could cause him to jump from dark to light. Either way Denny couldn’t handle so many people and be in such a wavering mood so he decided it would be best to get out on the grounds like he usually did when he got like this and find some way to get in a decent mood, hopefully a good one but he’d settle for a bad one just for the stability of it. Now who in their right mind would want to be in a bad mood? Well to Denny even though he is more prone to violence, angry outbursts, and confrontation when he was in a bad mood it was so much better than constantly switching from happy to angry to giddy to pissed. It was kind of exhausting to be so up and down, so even if he had to stay on the down Denny preferred it. The drugs that Rosedale was pumping into him were trying to make him normal, but lately they’ve been keeping him in the grey and Denny didn’t like it. The thought to stop taking the drugs crossed his mind, but the last time he went off his drugs he ended up tossing some kid out of a window, first floor window mind you, so as of now Denny was going to try and stick it out until they got the dosing right. However even if they could get the dosing right for his bipolar meds the voices in his head tended to be a little wilder when he was on those meds. That’s why as he walked toward the courtyard Denny was massaging his temples, trying to fight the headache that was building in the battlefield he called his mind. Somebody walked by and gave him an odd look causing Denny to yell What the fuck are you looking at? across the not too far distance between the two. The kid ran away, obviously startled by his angry reaction to a mere look. Shaking his head Denny pushed forward to the courtyard, hoping to find some solitude. Sighing Denny walked into the gardens and looked around not seeing anybody. However even though he didn’t see anybody he was hearing quite the contrary. Stop being so loud Denny pleaded aloud. Loud Den? We ain’t bein’ loud one voice whispered in his ear. Yes you are Denny argued back. No we most certainly are not another voice added. Just stop talking Denny muttered as he walked further into the courtyard. Scanning the area again with his bright blue eyes Denny spotted something on the bench, rather someone. Was that Sam? No it’s not someone said. Yeah… yes it is! Denny said then picked up his speed and a smile stretched across his face. SAM! Denny yelled loud and happy, maybe Sam could help put him in a happy mood. HI SAM! Denny said loudly with a big stupid grin on his face as he sat down next to the ball that was his friend, not really noticing that her ball position was probably because she was unhappy for some reason. Whenever Denny was in a good mood he was kind of oblivious to everybody else’s feelings. Pssst Sam it’s really you right? Denny asked, just to make sure that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. && WORDS 691 && STATUS finished && TAGGED sam && OUTFIT clicks&& NOTES posted :]
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Post by samantha jane mason on Nov 11, 2010 14:35:59 GMT -5
In the distance Sam could hear someone yelling. The problem with being at Rosedale was having to get used to sporadic out bursts. You could depend on at least one any given day from the people with mental disorders or anger management. When it came to people at the academy, Sam treated every illness in a specific way or least she treated the people a certain way. She knew that it was wrong and judgmental but sometimes she didn't really care. For instance, she hated addicts because they were the reason for their own problems. They could have easily prevented being enrolled by showing some restraint. Sam remembered reading somewhere that 90% of addictions were mental. But then again the majority of the students at the academy were their for being headcases. The only ones she really felt bad for were the kids with disorders or anger management. Few people in the world had it as hard as they did. For her, the amusing part was the fact that most days some of them seemed more normal then her. As for the other suicidal students, she avoided them like the plague. Because she knew there were people worse off then her and the last thing she wanted was for her problems to seem trivial. The only thing worse then being depressed about failing at suicide was knowing there was someone else who failed and had a decent reason for trying. Something about being unjustly suicidal had a way of really depressing a girl. She idly wondered what prompted someone to freak out today and what poor unfortunate soul was on the receiving end of it. That's when a figure drew closer and even from her ball she had no doubt the mess of blond hair heading towards her was Denny. Near instantly she uncurled from her ball, placing her feet on the ground and her hands in her lap. Denny was one of the many students on campus who was worse off then she was, way worse in fact. So when it came to him, she played strong, because she knew if she had someone that actually cared in her life she probably wouldn't have tried to kill herself. According to her doctors, support systems were important. Sam screwed a smile on her face reluctantly, because good friends help each other out when they need it most. Denny had the type of personality that was infectious and so Sam selfishly hoped that if she could help his mood maybe he would help hers. She knew the idea was kind of ridiculous but it had worked before. That was pretty much how they became friends, or at least that's what made Sam keep trying to be his friend. They were similar in the weirdest ways and for Sam that was new and she liked it. "Psst Denny, it's really me," she whispered jokingly. "Scout's honor," she said raising her hand and crossing her fingers. The sleeve of her black sweater slipped down only the slightest bit and she instinctively tugged at it, curling her fingers around the cuff so it didn't reveal anymore of her arm. It had been quite some time since she had last cut, but even still the scars remained. More then a few times she had dug deeper then she should of and proof would forever be etched into her skin. Everybody always asked why, she hated the word why. "What brings you out here on this fine day?" she questioned. She didn't have to lie about that or pretend to be happy, it really was a nice day. Part of her felt bad for having to lie to him at all but it was better this way. Maybe if she got her mind off things for a while her mood would get better. . words . 652 . outfit . here. mood . amazing . tags . denny
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Post by denny william holton on Nov 14, 2010 19:52:20 GMT -5
The grey moods were just so tiring. Even though right now Denny was feeling pretty good he was still kind of exhausted from fighting the pull of the bad mood. But Sam was there so he was pretty sure that he could keep his good mood going until they parted ways or at least he would try. Denny didn’t like being in bad moods with his friends though, he hated showing that side of himself but usually he couldn’t help it. It’s like the sun and the moon, no matter what they both have to come out. The doctors and therapists at Rosedale are trying to make it so he can forever stay in a solid grey mood, but so far no matter how many pills they give him he still can’t stay in a normal state of mind. Of course Sam has seen Denny in all kinds of moods, but he preferred to keep it to a strictly happy mood when he was around her. She may not know it but he knew that she tried to be happy around him, but usually if Denny was in a good mood he could get her to be in a genuinely good mood as well. Denny knew that she didn’t want him to know that she was just putting up a front, so he let her do as she pleased so it would make her happy in the end. See even though Denny has a few screws loose doesn’t mean that he doesn’t pick up on a few things here and there. Sure sometimes he’s kind of oblivious but after a while he’ll surely realize a thing or two. It was easy for Denny to be happy around Sam though. She always knew how to handle his crazy mind and even joke around with him from time to time. Like now, when she answered his question in the same way that he had asked it. There was no way that he could make up Sam, sure he’s made up a few friends before but so far everyone else he’s talked to has told him Sam was real unlike with Bonny, Joel, and Mark where everyone told him that there was no such person going to Rosedale Academy. Those were sad moments indeed, but in the end he always pulled out of those long dark moods that followed. What brings me out here? Denny repeated to himself, as if he was trying to figure out the question, but in reality it was just something that he did. It was a little weird habit of his, but sometimes words that people spoke got lost in the words that his mind spoke, so he had to differentiate the two somehow. Well you know Denny said then patted the side of his blond head It was getting loud. Denny was sure that she knew that he was referring to the voices in his head. However, as of now, the voices were starting to quiet down to a little hum. What are you doing out here Samuel? Denny asked using his nickname for her. && WORDS 518 && STATUS finished && TAGGED sam && OUTFIT clicks&& NOTES posted :]
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Post by samantha jane mason on Nov 21, 2010 16:59:51 GMT -5
Denny was a really interesting person, in fact he was the most interesting person that Sam had ever met. Which was probably why he was one of her only friends at the academy. It wasn't that she couldn't make friends, it was just easier not to disappoint people if there weren't so many who expected things of you.It was a bad way to look at things, but while she was trying to recover it was better that way. It was hard to recover if everything made you think you were failing. Sam ran a hand through her hair before pulling it back over her shoulders. She giggled when he said it was getting loud. Sam could only imagine how horrible it was always being around other people.It had to get hectic, voices constantly contradicting him.With everything else he was going through, that had to be the absolute worst. If she was him her suicide would have been more than just an attempt. Failure, that's all that was. Her doctors said she failed because she didn't really want to die. The idea made her laugh. If she didn't really want to die, then why did she attempt to twice. She had to admit things were much better than before, but that didn't change anything. If she had succeeded in dying she wouldn't have minded missing all of this. Samuel, of all the nicknames she had gotten over the years that was the most curious one. Most people called her lame names like Sammy or Sam I Am. At least Samuel wasn't over used, not for a girl at least. "Just needed some fresh air. I went for a run earlier," she replied with a shrug. The run hadn't gone so well, but the fresh air had proven useful. "You know how it is, sometimes you have to get away from the crazies," she joked with a grin. There was no way of escaping the crazies at the academy but it was fun to imagine you could. The exciting part about it was if you considered them as sane then Sam was one of the most normal people there. That was not the case though and there was no way of denying it. "My mother is coming," she said more just to tell somebody. No one else knew. . words . 385 . outfit . here. mood . eh . tags . denny
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Post by denny william holton on Nov 26, 2010 10:29:08 GMT -5
You would probably think that it is impossible for someone like Denny to actually make a friend and on the outside world it was, but here at the Academy people were more accepting of the crazy. Its not like Denny didn’t have friends back at home, they stuck with him even if they hated his really bad moods. A lot of people just figured he was going through a phase, but after being admitted into Rosedale Denny isn’t too sure if he’ll have friends outside of the place. Sure he has good friends here, some are like the outsiders that just stick around for the goofy fun Denny, but there are the few that stick by him in his bad moods and large schizophrenic episodes. One of the people that were Denny’s friend was Sam. Denny knew that Sam didn’t have a lot of friends; actually a lot of people at Rosedale don’t have a lot of friends. However Denny was determined to be her friend. It was kind of a mission for Denny to make people happy at the Academy even if he wasn’t happy with being there himself. Sure it was much better than being stuck in a huge house all alone with parents that thought you were a disgrace. Sometimes Denny wondered if that was the reason he went crazy, always being alone in that house so his mind made up some company for him. Either way the Academy was better than home, for sure. A run Denny repeated with his face in that semi disgusted frown that he got when he thought of things he didn’t like doing. Denny wasn’t the most active person when it came to working out. However the crazy things he did and all the bouncing around he did when he was in a good mood put him in good shape for when he was in a bad mood and needed to punch someone in the face or throw them out a window. The voices in his head snickered and made some remark about how he should go for a run but Denny shook his head trying to get them out before listening to what else Sam had to say. Lucky for you, you can get away from the crazies Denny pointed out with a grin on his face. I on the other hand am stuck with them He added knowing that she knew he was talking about what went on in his head. Some people couldn’t understand that you couldn’t just ignore what the voices were saying. There were times they are quiet and he can function normally, but no matter what there is usually some commentary going around I his head. It was like being stuck in a crowded room even when he was alone that’s why he disliked crowds so much, it was like a crowd on top of a crowd, it was deafening. Now that was something that Denny could understand Sam needing a run. When it came to family visits there were usually three types. One being, a happy reunion where everyone gabs and chats about what they’ve missed in the other person’s life. The second one being, one or all of them not wanting to be there at all or even talking to each other much less being in the same room with them. The one that applied to Denny was the third, no visits at all. When you come from a family like Denny’s who cares more about appearances than each other there is no chance that someone from his family would even dare step foot into Rosedale. Oh that’s a bummer Denny frowned, knowing by how Sam said it that she didn’t really want to see her mother. Do you want me to hide and make funny faces behind her? Or I could throw some water balloons at her, I have plenty! Denny offered in hopes of cheering her up. I guess family visits must be tough Denny added, even though he never had a family visit before he could only guess that they weren’t exactly a cake walk. && WORDS 685 && STATUS finished && TAGGED sam && OUTFIT clicks&& NOTES posted :]
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