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- THEREFORE I AM - Act one, chapter four: This is me trying.
TW: not sure how to tag it, but there are brief mentions of Arryn's mental state at the beginning of the chapter that might not be fun for some. the gist of it ends with "His voice cracked at the edges..." ━━━ 🍨 ━━━
Arryn has come tofind she is a fundamentally lazy person, so her initial lack of 'passion' for her employment is hardly unbelievable.
By nature, Arryn has consistently lacked the effort and drive most people obtain at birth. Her burning desire, her passion, wane over the mere minutes she partakes in any activity. Its why she quit ballet, piano, hockey, the list goes on. None of it ever felt enough. It never satiated the gnawing, festering gut feeling within and in the end, she lost her once burning desire and quit.
It never felt fulfilling. None of it.
Her laziness extends to beyond passion, beyond extra circulars, and extends to more aspects of her life she refuses to acknowledge. It poisons everything. She procrastinates her own healing, and instead festers in the hurt. She lingers, ghost like, within the bitter hours of the night, the ones where existing is so exhausting, and sits in it all.
Arryn has found its easier, to let it hold her. There's something so deep within her, buried beneath years of suppression, something caged beneath her skin and bones, that to unpick it would prove to be a momentous task. A task Arryn has decided was too taxing.
Its familiar, it's easy and Arryn is lazy.
She supposes this makes her selfish in a way. To subject those around her to her own self induced maddening spiral, a perpetual state of boarder line disassociation, it was cruel. Though it's not as though Arryn hasn't tried. She had tried for seventeen years, she'd argue she had every right to throw in the towel.
"You're problem is you give up easily, Arryn you've just stopped trying." Milo snapped, one particularly bad evening. Arryn hadn't left her room in hours, unable to move, unable to focus on anything but the rising panic making a home within her subconscious. Milo had finally given up, so tired of watching the self destruction. "You- you just let it take you, Arryn I can't- not anymore. Please, do something."
His voice cracked at the edges, giving way to a picture Arryn hadn't wanted to see. Arryn had felt the guilt tear through her like something rabid, something primal. She found there wasn't anything to say, not a sentence she could form that would console him. So, Arryn just held him as he choked back the tears he refused to acknowledge, wondering what she did to deserve a brother like him.
