Sherlock Drabble: December 14th Blog
Title: December 14th Blog
Rating/Content: PG13. Depiction of depression. Pre-series. John POV
Word Count: Drabble
Disclaimer: Not my world.
A/N: Written in under ten minutes so fair warning. I haven't posted fic here for over two months and I needed to do something about that. Not cross-posted. Might delete this later. I swear, eventually I will write something happy again. [LJ-only]
Summary: John's first blog post here. Scroll to the bottom.
John stared at the blank screen.
He could lie, say he was fine, or post nothing and not bother anyone who might be inclined to be bothered, or he could post the truth.
I've been sitting in my unheated room in my dressing gown for hours debating whether to lie and say I'm okay or
Delete, delete, delete.
Went for a walk today. Except that's a lie too.
Delete.
If anyone other than my therapist is reading this, I could do with a hug
Delete.
Hi. I'm a useless, broken piece of rubbish and should just nut up and
Delete.
John closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Nothing.
Post.
- - -
(that's all)
Rating/Content: PG13. Depiction of depression. Pre-series. John POV
Word Count: Drabble
Disclaimer: Not my world.
A/N: Written in under ten minutes so fair warning. I haven't posted fic here for over two months and I needed to do something about that. Not cross-posted. Might delete this later. I swear, eventually I will write something happy again. [LJ-only]
Summary: John's first blog post here. Scroll to the bottom.
John stared at the blank screen.
He could lie, say he was fine, or post nothing and not bother anyone who might be inclined to be bothered, or he could post the truth.
I've been sitting in my unheated room in my dressing gown for hours debating whether to lie and say I'm okay or
Delete, delete, delete.
Went for a walk today. Except that's a lie too.
Delete.
If anyone other than my therapist is reading this, I could do with a hug
Delete.
Hi. I'm a useless, broken piece of rubbish and should just nut up and
Delete.
John closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Nothing.
Post.
- - -
(that's all)