Post by octavia gisele sanford on Apr 19, 2020 15:56:56 GMT -5
There were days when Octavia walked a fine line between a comforting atmosphere and sensory overload. She did her best to keep everything at a manageable level, but there were times when things were out of her control. As much as she wanted to, there were a lot of things that Octavia had no say in – like the weather, or a subway delay. Little things, little annoyances for everyone, but they could make the difference between her volatile mood swings. Living with BPD was not easy, and she wouldn’t wish her bad days on her worst enemy, but Octavia managed. Her dreams had been mangled by the diagnosis, but the had found something similar in her role as a student advisor. It was enough to scratch the itch anyway. She was still helping people, still there for them when they needed someone to listen. The days in a stuffy office were a little much, but Octavia had been through a lot worse; a hell of a lot worse.
She didn’t talk about her past. She hadn’t mentioned it once since she moved to New York City. It came up from time to time, glossed over in phone calls to her father – who was the only family she kept in touch with – but he never pushed it beyond checking she was doing okay. New York was supposed to be a new beginning, a place where no one whispered about her and all she had been through. There was nothing worse than a town knowing all of her secrets when she was hardly equipped to face them herself. At least here her demons were very firmly her own. College management knew of her mental illness, but they hadn’t enquired into it beyond asking what they could do to help Octavia maintain a steady and healthy work ethic. She had been coping pretty well, managing sometimes to pretend that she was boring and normal like everyone else. Then Mal had appeared in front of her like something out of a bittersweet dream and Octavia had found herself clutching at straws to try and stabilise her existence again. If anyone was going to show up in New York from her past, Mal was at least someone she felt she could have a conversation with. It had been clunky and awkward, but Octavia hadn’t lost control of herself or ran away immediately.
She had no plans to see him again, making her exit from the bookstore before he could suggest swapping numbers or grabbing a drink. Octavia had kept this life separate from the one in Washington Springs and she wasn’t supportive of them merging. Honestly, she had put it all to the back of her mind, blocking it back there with plenty of other unimportant thoughts. She thought it was done with. Then the rain came down heavy, interrupting her late-night walk home from a faculty meeting at the college. Octavia’s umbrella had broken the week before and she hadn’t replaced it yet. Cursing, she tried to turn her light jacket into some kind of protection from the elements, but it really didn’t do much. It wasn’t waterproof and the rain was relentless. She ran across the street, weaving through the traffic just because she had seen an open door and lights. She didn’t know where she was running into at first, not until she looked around and saw the artwork and sculptures. She realised, slowly that she had crashed some gallery showing. Then she realised that she was dripping water onto the hardwood floors.
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TAGGED! Malachi Bellamy O'Roarke
WORDS! 591!
LYRICS! Brighter - - - Patent Pending
NOTES! <3
