DD & Clementine
So I made Sims of DD and his TARDIS, Clementine. I still have to make her blog…
Anyway, this is my collection of pictures from today of them.
They’re too precious.
all my nightmares escaped my head
bar the door, please don’t let them in
you were never supposed to leave
now my head’s splitting at the seams
and i don’t know if I can—
I’m suffocating, this is too much for me, I don’t want to send the children to the Academy, but now I have no choice, we have no choice, I’m going to miss them so much, like I miss him, I miss him a lot, I wish he didn’t break that promise, I almost wish I didn’t even make him promise, I don’t understand why anyone breaks promises, we’re all broken, I am constructed of broken bones and dreams and hearts, I am a doctor, so why can’t I fix myself, I was so good, so good and they were so proud of me, but there’s nothing to be proud of now, they pumped me full of bad thoughts and the good skin on me cracked and someone ripped it off, and—
—I am perfectly fine.
[I haven’t taken my antidepressants, he thought. I haven’t taken the magic pill, if I take it, all the bad things will go away, and I can think and be happy and smile, and Vale will be happy, and the babies will be happy, and we can fix all the lights and eat banana pudding, and play Monopoly, and we can breathe again.]
I’m trying to move on, trying to support my family, and you’re not making this any easier.
Just because I’m not crying about him every second, doesn’t mean I’m not remembering him. Doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about him. I can’t do anything without remembering. Can’t look at a banana the same. Can’t look at the TARDIS the same. Can’t look at my own suits the same. Can’t look at my ring the same. Can’t look at our children the same. Can’t look at Vale the same. Can’t look at cookies the same. Can’t say ‘brilliant’ without feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut. Can’t function. Can’t feel. Can’t can’t can’t can’t, I’m going to split at the seams.
What else are we supposed to do? I spent an entire month and a half cooped up, surrounded by pitying doctors and used tissues.