#depressed law students

[danieltlukasik]

One Wife's Story of Her Husband's Struggles with Depression in Law School

  “True Stories” is a series of guest blogs I am running on mental health in the legal profession. In this article, we explore the affect depression has on loved ones and their struggles to help. Katie has been married to her law student husband for almost four years. She has grown into a more compassionate and well-rounded Certified Health Education Specialist and Mental Health First Aid…

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

I'm trying very, very hard to keep track of everything that's going on and get all my ducks in a row but I actually have no brains, only bees, so you can imagine the problems I'm having.

[yrndrgn]

Brain zaps be zapping again

I'm going through this headache again, and I'm so upset about it. I'm not even going through a decrease- I increased goddamnit. I thought they only happened if you decreased. Now I have the metal balls jangling in my head if I so much as move my eyes wrong. Even my tinnitus has taken on a tinny sound. I hate these things so much. Life feels like it's on pause once they start up. I only get them closer to the evenings, so it's not too bad. But, like, some times they start at 5:00PM and mess up my whole evening. I'm in law school damnit- I've got shit to do.

I've also had some scary bad ones recently.

About three weeks ago, I was having a really shitty time. I got dumped, I was plagued by some unknown upper respiratory infection (not COVID), and- key point here- I had vomited a little after taking my meds. The only medication in the puke was the Mucinex I had taken earlier, but my other meds were also probably disrupted because of it. Due to- just- the emotional devastation that I felt and in generally feeling utterly like shit all the time, I hadn't been able to sleep for about 48 hours.

Not great for a sick person.

It was getting late. My dad had gone off to bed. I go up to brush my teeth because they were feeling shitty because, well, depression. My head had been buzzing for maybe an hour- the occasional long series of zaps, but also just buzzing pain in general. Enough to note, but not enough to really to make myself do anything about. I'm on the stairs when something feels off the first time. A lot of zaps go off at once and make my head feel a little dizzy.

Worrying.

I make my way to the bathroom and start brushing my teeth. That's when things got really bad.

I'm one of those people who shakes their head as I brush my teeth. I move in rhythm with the brush. Maybe the motion caused it because suddenly a whole bunch of zaps go off all at once. Just simultaneously blasting away at my brain. My body goes stiff I feel like I'm about to fall over and out of control of my body. The worst part was my vision. The world just started kinda melting. Y'know how sometimes a bunch of window screen will pop up in this specific diagonal overlap? It was like that but also a little liquidy. There was this sound as it happened- like when one dribbles basketballs really low and quickly to the ground but more metal. I remember feeling so stiff.

My body doesn't respond to my commands for a second, but somehow I pushed my will through enough for me to stop myself from falling. I panic finish because what the fuck just happened? I'm heartbroken, depressed, exhausted, sick, and now terrified because I lost control of my body for a second. I leave the bathroom and proceed to have another one. There's basketballs. My head hurts. My limbs stiffen.

The world melts.

I cling to some shelves. I gain back control. I'm scared. Do I move? Do I stay? I'm so tired. I need to go back downstairs. I need my meds. I want my dad.

My dad went to bed- that means he's in the room right next to me.

This is purely a matter of happenstance. Due to some shenanigans involving the AC units at home, my dad started sleeping in my sister's room since she had already left for her own place, and her room conjoins my childhood bedroom through the bathroom. I went to my childhood bedroom by habit despite not sleeping there because my AC unit was among the broken ones because, when you're feeble, sickly, prissy prissy prince(ss) like me, you need to be able to cool the room a little while on a tropical island. I was standing in my room at the time, maybe I could drag myself just far enough to get my dad.

I move slowly. I keep one hand webbed in the shelve's grids as I travel, then pressed against the wall once there are no more shelves.

I'm in the doorway when a third one hits. Maybe because it's happened twice now, but it's not quite as bad. But the world still melts for a bit.

I cling my to my sister's bedroom door and knock. I call out for my dad and quietly open the door.

He's tired and confused and worried.

"There's something wrong with me. I don't think it's safe for me to go down the stairs alone. Can you help me?"

I feel like a little kid all over again.

Instead of doing what my routine-oriented brain thinks of which is guiding me downstairs then back to the actual room I sleep in, he slips me into what was his bed. He rubs my back and strokes my hair then goes to get my meds. My Ate comes to check because she heard something happened and know that I'm still really sick. She brings me an extra blanket and some water.

My dad returns with my meds and my phone. He tells me to text him or my Ate if I need anything and to get some rest.

I take all my meds plus a Tylenol PM and finally sleep for the first time in over 48 hours.

I haven't had brain zaps as bad as that day since.

But every time they start back up, I worry if it'll happen again, and if this time I really do lose control. My dad isn't here to help me again. I don't know if there's anyone who could help me if they happen again.

[sorryiwasasleep]

Personal rant

I started my final year of schooling last week and I’ve already missed 9 out of 11 classes so far. I’m burning up all my unexcused absences and I can’t even bring myself to care at all because I don’t want to be in this program getting this degree and I feel incredibly trapped and overwhelmed. I can’t make myself do the readings. I can’t make myself go to class. I can’t make myself care. I can’t seem to do anything at all but lay in bed. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this for another year. Fuck, I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this even just next week when I no longer can miss class without an excusal. And I can’t drop out anymore cause the deadline for full reimbursement passed, but also that was never a real option for me anyway cause dropping out would also likely mean moving home and that’s just as bad for my brain. Even right now I should be doing my readings for my class that’s at 3:30, but instead I’m typing this. Because I’m sad and I don’t care. But because I didn’t do the readings? I feel like I can’t go to class, so I WON’T which in turn is a problem cause I am using all my skips and I’m missing the first two weeks of class so I’m going to go in SO fucking confused next week probably. Shit shit shit shit fuck.

TW: weight discussion, emetophobia, eating disorder mention (just by name nothing specific), ARFID, depression, anxiety, apathy, mention of American politics

Heavier discussion below

I recently realized (i don’t have a scale in my apt) that I lost about 40 pounds in the span of about 5 months all from a combination of stress/my ADHD medication suppressing my appetite (vyvanse bitch ass doesn’t even work) and stress induced vomited and also vomiting because I treat my body like shit (don’t drink water, cope with unhealthy substances a lil too often, don’t eat anything remotely healthy, barely eat at all anymore if I’m being honest). I knew I’d lost some cause clothes were looser. I thought it was like 10. But no I know how much I weighed in March and it was a full difference of 40 and I know part of this stress and the stress induced vomiting are being caused by school and it’s like… I have another year. Am I just gonna keep wasting away? Something’s gotta give here and I know shit has to change but I have absolutely no drive to actually climb out of the hole I’ve buried myself in. I feel like there’s no point and that even if I crawl out, the world is the same and my family is the same and I’m still in this program and so nothing is actually different anyway. I just wanna let the dirt consume me. I wanna lay in my bed with a sitcom playing mindlessly in the background while I work on my silly little fanfictions until everything just stops except I lay in bed and don’t even do those things but am paralyzed by all the things I should be doing instead that I neglected because I didn’t care and I still don’t care enough to do it, but I feel bad enough to not do anything else either in that time. And I know that’s BAD and that having no motivation for anything is obviously super a ‘ur depression is worse girl’ (hi yea i fucking live inside this stupid head so I already fucking know that. @/my psych and parents). but I keep getting cancelled on or stood up by therapists and my psych has told me three appointments now shit like ‘Well what do you want me to do about?’ (Without even fucking considering something like uhhhhh… idk changing the meds I’m on? Since I’m at the max dose for my anti depressant and I’ve been on it for about half a year and I feel it stagnated because while it seemed to help when I started, now I’m worse? Like, I tell you I feel the worst I’ve ever felt in my entire life and you answer ‘And what do you want me to do?’ YOUR FUCKING JOB? Provide me with my options???? Not be a dick?) And she keeps saying I have to find a therapist because the meds only do so much (I had one but she went on maternity leave in January and then when she came back from it I was too broke to pay every week (which is what my bitch ass brain needs) and then when I wasn’t broke any longer she had ghosted me and she also was my provider for two years and never actually gave me any coping mechanisms so I kinda wanted a new one anyway). The psych did not like when I laughed at her and said “And will you fucking pay for it?” in response the first time she said it even though obviously I know she’s right.

My roommate told me the other day also that I need to get a therapist and that I have to focus my energy into that because she can’t listen to me say the same complaints anymore (she said it nicely, but like I’m crying rn thinking about it and will likely never feel safe to share with her anymore for worry of annoying her.) She also said she doesn’t think I want to help myself. That she wants me to get better and obviously it’s shit what’s happening but that I’m not doing the (what are to her obvious and to me impossible to actually do because of familial enmeshment and financial dependence) things that could maybe make things better. Even though… I AM trying to help myself. Yea it’s not the best I can be doing, but it’s as much as I can fucking manage given my surety that none of this matters and isn’t that worth something? I’ve been looking for a therapist since MAY. They keep standing me up or cancelling or they’re booked or they don’t take my insurance. I had five (5) telehealths where I got stood up. Starting therapy anew is already terrifying but when the person doesn’t show up it just feels like shit. It made me feel like they looked at my paperwork and decided I wasn’t fucked up enough when the reality is yea I held back slightly but that’s because I needed to know the vibes of the place first. That’s not what happened (for at least three appts anyway. The other two ghosted me also after so I never got explanation so maybe it did) but I still felt that way and for someone who already has a lot of problems with imposter syndrome and deep insecurities around being forgotten it really sucked and was incredibly unprofessional of any worker but especially mental health care professionals to do. I have one on Friday. Let’s hope this one doesn’t stand me up 🤞 Also, back to my ungodly amount of rapid weight loss, I did have 40 pounds that could’ve been shed and I am still not what would be consider ‘skinny’ but an average weight, so the worst part of this whole thing is that people are telling me i look GOOD now. Literally it was my MOM. She always implied I’m overweight and need to lose it and pretends like it’s ‘in your best interest honey’ meanwhile I can’t even do the fucking obligations I’m tied to? You think I can fucking do EXTRA? And yea I should use that kickboxing class that I bought, but not to lose weight mother, but because I’m not physically fit in that I cannot go up stairs without getting winded and because I have all the rage in the world (a portion of which goes to her!) and hitting things makes me feel better and it expires soon and was $40 I won’t get back. None of those reasons have to do with my weight, but if I mention I went to that class to her? She’s going to be SO excited on the phone, for all the wrong reasons thinking it’s me trying to get thin, when it’s me trying to get healthy. That is not equivalent to weight loss necessarily, as clearly evidenced here since I lost a shit ton unhealthily. This weekend I got a ‘Do you lose weight? Cause you look great!’ from her. 🫠🙄And i know that people would even more so do that if I do continue on this path of wasting away even though I’m actually unhealthier than I’ve ever been with my eating habits and the weight loss is a result of my depression and anxiety spiraling worse. How about we as a society stop fucking commenting on other peoples weight period full stop. Also it’s SAYING something that I’m the worst ever rn because food and I have always had a weird vibe. I recently learned what ARFID is and I’m fairly confident I’ve had that my entire life and just never had the name for it so that’s certainly something. Anyway idek what the point of this was other than for me to shout into the void because I was sad. If the void wants to shout back and tell me how I’m supposed to function in this life that’d be great cause I didn’t even HIT the state of the world and how that causes half my lack of motivation for anything in this post, but god the American political and legal landscape fill me dread and anxiety and anger and I can never escape them.

TLDR: I’m sad, I can’t bring myself to go to class at all in these first two weeks of classes. I need a therapist but they keep cancelling when I finally get an appointment and find one that accepts my insurance. My psych is kinda bad and my roommate was trying to help but did it in a way that hurt me more. I wanna drop out but can’t and also school is impacting my mental health so severely that I lost an extreme amount of weight in a short amount of time. Got complimented by mom even though I’m literally unhealthy. Separate from that but intertwined, I might have ARFID, possibly for my whole life and I am genuinely SHOCKED it never once was suggested by a medical professional to my parents when I was a child.

[shrikebrother]

so many good books are being banned . speak was just pulled out of my school's library

[fulgursmediaanalysisdrama]

Nihilism is a positive, life affirming philosophy. Something my christian mother couldn't, or didn't want to, understand

And Schoppenhauer is interesting but only worth anything when you conclude he is wrong

Berserk as a Nietzschean Tragedy — Art, Morality, Affirmation by Jonas Čeika

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"ETUDIANTS D'OTTAWA DEFAVORABLES A UN MARATHON DE DANSE," La Patrie. October 6, 1933. Page 9. --- A l'assaut d'un établissement de Hull. La police à l'oeuvre avec les pompiers. ---- HULL. Quê. 6. (Presse canadienne). Le marathon de danse qui se poursuit dans un parc d'amusements de Hull a commencé son 83e four aujourd'hui malgré une tentative d'étudiants d'Ottawa qui voulaient y mettre fin. L'invasion de la gent étudiante se produisit hier soir.

Quelque 200 étudiants de l'Université d'Ottawa et du collège Saint-Patrice se rendirent à Hull et pendant trois heures, ils tentèrent vainement de pénétrer dans l'édifice où se tient le marathon.

La police provinciale et la police de Hull, avec l'aide des pompiers armés des boyaux à incendie inondèrent copieusement les étudiants qui durent finalement se retirer.

Un certain nombre d’œufs de qualité douteuse trouvèrent des cibles faciles dans les agents de police mais il n'y eut pas de véritable bagarre. La police n'a opéré aucune arrestation et l'on ne compte pas de blessés.

[emiscott]

Courageously chase your wildest aspirations. Embrace your uniqueness, always. You are deserving of self-esteem.

Click here: Happiness awaits you.

[lawstudentwithmentalissues]

13. März 2024

Na ihr🌸,

ich hoffe, es geht euch gut. Mir geht es heute ein bisschen besser als die letzten Tage, die Depressionen waren ziemlich schlimm. Ich habe auch aufgehört die Ziprasidon zu nehmen, die ich seit zwei Jahren nehme. Kein Venlafaxin mehr, kein Ziprasidon mehr, ich denke es ist normal, dass ich in letzter Zeit angespannter und depressiver bin als sonst, der Körper muss sich wohl erst einmal darauf einstellen.

Trotzdem muss es irgendwie weitergehen. Ich fange jetzt an Schuldrecht BT zu lernen, ich hab es viel zu lange vor mir hergeschoben. Ende des Monats bekomme ich mitgeteilt, ob und welche Prüfungen ich bestanden habe. Ich hasse diese Warterei. Ich wüßte gerne sofort, wie sehr ich es vermasselt hab. Im 1. Semester liefen die Prüfungen noch sehr gut, ich habe in beiden 9 Punkte geschrieben. Da habe ich auch keine Antidepressiva genommen. Dieses Semester bin ich unendlich dankbar, wenn ich keine Prüfung wiederholen muss. Bleibt wohl nur hoffen und abwarten.

Ich wünsche euch noch einen schönen Tag und denkt dran - niemals aufgeben 🌸

[danieltlukasik]

One Therapist's Take on Lawyer Addiction & Mental Health

This is a guest blog by Nicole Roder, LCSW-C, a bilingual DBT therapist in Bethesda, MD, certified by the DBT-Linehan Board of Certification. She is intensively trained in DBT, DBT prolonged exposure for PTSD, DBT for parents, couples, and families, and DBT for substance use disorders. In her practice, she treats adults and adolescents with BPD, PTSD, DMDD, SUD, and related disorders. The legal…

[kim-inlaw]

Well, it's good to be back here again. Going into my last year of law school and still mentally ill... Life has been a dud 😭

[solanna888]

෫ੳ what do you need to know about your future love ?

© solanna888. All rights reserved by solanna888 in Tumblr 2024.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄

A type of person who start something new without finishing up the other task, they do get bored easily and often seeking about something new for them. However the problem is that they should have done the first task before moving to the next cuz in the end they will be the one who will be stressed about it.

I'm getting gloomy for them, might be their appearance or just their overall aura maybe stress or worst — depression is visible to them. They might be alone or something was missing into their life? but do focus on negative sights than the positive one. They are thankful for every opportunity that life has given for them but mostly doesn't like to take it or keep refusing.

Also the person who has their own world in a room full of busy people, like they were just sitting in the corner minding their own business but once you get close to them they were talkative and witty it may probably not so obvious for them but they do have side like that.

I feel that they been through a lot in life and even in love, they may face disappointment, loneliness and even betrayal all through their years.

𓊝ᷓ

extra : fire signs ( sagittarius, leo, aries, ), moon in cancer, gemini, pisces, aquarius | an offer that keep refusing either be in career or in love, depression, heartbreak, honest and direct, romantic but possessive, insecure.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎

This is someone who is fearless and be able to take the lead on their own. You can see how brave and driven they were in their life.

Somehow talking or having conversation with them will bring you some inspiration and willingness probably loves to motivate and encourage you while chatting to them.

They will never be afraid to speak about a romantic date with you, if they were rejected then they willing to accepted it. Sometimes if you ever had a chance they would not accept it and doesn't want their ego to be ruin.

You can also see how accomplished and well proud they are about themselves but more likely to be positive side. This person likes to smile a lot or have this satisfied face as they probably thought that you were the one that they have been wishing for.

Whenever they are standing it is often in a good posture or when they are seating they have this crossarms posture or is sitting elegant— their back might be often straight and don't lean that much. This could also someone who dresses nicely and has a youthful or heart shaped face.

They could as well be a generous person and romantic/passionate individual. Mostly I see that this person could have dark feature/complexion or someone who's into dark colors and for few this is light feature/complexion individual.

𓊝ᷓ

extra: strong water sign and taurus, travel, nurturing like a mother, judgement or work related to law, great student?— study a lot perhaps, emotionally intelligent, likes having freedom, hard worker.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

You will feel shock about meeting your true love. This might be a sudden meeting or you suddenly feel this person is your the one.

Uhmm, there will be a sudden situation that will happen for you that is pretty surprising for yourself but you would aware that situation will occur in you.

I'm all hearing suprise for you so the energy is kicking that they don't want to tell when they arrive in your life. At the present, they feel happy about not showing their true feelings their identity around people. specifically hiding

All the way up while shuffling, I'm getting a energy of being playful, she or he might have playboy or playgirl type of appearance. It take lots. of time to show their real self especially if this person have been hurt before.

𓊝ᷓ

extra: strong earth sign especially virgo, don't like to be told and get their way, failure and abandonment by their mother or someone feminine in their life, very feminine, loss someone important, likes adventure, sexy and flirt, soulmate, wealthy/ financially stable (secure).

[time-wasters-blog]

Let me be your favourite mistake

[yrndrgn]

I'm not ready to go back

I never wanted to go to law school.

I am going because I felt like I had no other options since I have what was a fulfilling but ultimately useless degree. I love English, I love the study of literature- I just wasn't very good at it. Not enough to keep going. I couldn't find professors to cosign my ideas for research. Not for any fault of their own- I was just surrounded by people who studied every other period except the ones I wanted to study.

This is one of the places I feel okay being honest about this because I don't think my friends will find this. They haven't found my other secret accounts, so I think this one will be safe too.

The longer I remain in law school, the more I feel my dreams rotting. I think it's me resigning to my fate. My dad tries to assure me that there are writers who are also lawyers. I know there are. I just don't think that I'll ever be one of them. I can do things I hate for long periods- and do them well. I almost married one. I would have stayed in that marriage for a long time if he hadn't cheated.

I feel old. I'm almost half-way to 30. I know that's young for a lot of people. Yet I feel decrepit. I feel ancient. I feel-

Broken.

Broken is how I feel.

I am very broken.

I head back to law school in a few hours. I'm not ready for it to begin again.

But I will go back and continue.

I'm in too deep not to.

[colored-cloverfeilds]

I really do think that ONE hit the nail on the head when he made reigen. he's a conman. when things aren't going his way his immediate reaction is to beat the other person up and it somehow always works. he violates every working law immaginable. he is so unreasonably lucky for no reason. his best friends are an autistic middle schooler, an evil spirit and an ex-terrorist. he pays his workers pennies and is worried theyll join a union. he lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment. he gets drunk off of no alcohol. hes constantly surrounded by other autistic middle schoolers. he has no real, functioning adult friends. he has a license but hasn't used it in 10 years, and when he did use it, it was to take a bunch of kids to meet aliens. he's written his own biography. God hates him. his family hates him. he hates himself. and yet there's a psychic kid with a bowl cut who looks up to him with nothing but admiration. he throws salt at evil spirits and people if they annoy him. he would protect his students no matter what, and has almost died multiple times to help them. the only thing that makes him happy are dogs. in fact, he had a dog before, and it was eaten. he's canonically sexy and depressed, but also very, very ugly and sweaty. he's tried to shoot and kill a man not because he was super evil and trying to take over the world, but because he was hurting his kid.  he was told he would go to hell and couldn't care less. he met real aliens and all he could think about was how he was gonna pay his bills. he has god awful posture. he smokes cigarettes but never smokes in front of the kids. he wrote his will by age 29. all the animators wanna fuck him. he gets no bitches canonically. he's ONEs favorite character but he always makes him want to kill himself. he was doxxed. he was cancelled on Twitter. he entered a wack a mole competition and won 4th place. children make fun of him. he describes himself with having motherly love. no one likes him. everyone loves him. the anime designer draws him starting from his ass -> waist -> back because "it's like running your tongue over his body". his theme song sounds like a mario kart course track. he's so utterly pathetic.

plus he's just a genuinely good person and he's one of the best characters ONEs ever created??? genius.

[flowerandblood]

Incomprehension (Oneshot)

[ Michael • Gavey x math student • female ]

[ warnings: stalking, angst with comfort, depression ]

[ description: Michael Gavey seems to her to be an alien from another planet, and observing him becomes her daily routine. She decides to cheer him up by secretly putting his favorite Crunchie in his backpack, but one day she is caught red-handed. Requests regarding the character stalking Michael and her comforting him after the situation with Oliver at the bar. ]

I thought I'd post this between chapters of The Fall from the Heavens because I really like it even though there is no smut in the story! This will not affect the order in which new chapters will be published.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She had no idea how it really started. She had watched him for a long time, knowing only that he was the best. Even though he was a student in the same year as her, equations that took her an hour to solve, he solved in a few minutes.

He worked like a machine: when he stood in front of the big board his face was stony. Unlike her, he wasn't frightened or stressed knowing that the whole room of students was watching him – on the contrary, seeing his lips clamped into a tight line, the wrinkles of concentration on his forehead and his wide-open blue eyes, she had the feeling that he derived satisfaction from it.

He wanted his genius to be admired.

They never exchanged a word with each other – even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have known how to begin, and seeing his outbursts and behaviour that seemed bizarre to others, to say the least, she wasn't sure it would be worth taking the risk and stepping out of the shadows.

Something about him not knowing she was watching him filled her with peace and contentment.

Her year-mate had lamented to her as they sat in the library that one of the handsome, rich boys from a good house had not responded to her greeting as she passed him in the corridor. She nodded in understanding, looking thoughtfully towards the other table.

She didn't understand why he stayed close to Oliver.

This boy seemed too frisky to her, stretched out, wanting too many things at once. He wanted to be humble and feisty at the same time, lonely and surrounded by a group of friends, appreciated and unappreciated, for someone to comfort him.

He wanted to be noticed while remaining in a state of his own uniqueness.

Unlike him, Michael was authentic.

She showed up in the places he walked because he appeared in them like clockwork. His routine became her routine, allowing her to be a passive observer of his life instead of participating in her own.

She didn't want to return her thoughts again to her body and the emptiness she felt as she lay alone at night, thinking that she hated math.

However, it was the only thing she could do well.

The logic of formulas, the certainty of the fundamental, immutable laws that ruled the solving of equations gave her a sense of security.

Words were a strange and unnatural construct to her, and while her mind was full of thoughts, they did not usually find an outlet beyond the basic phrases that allowed her to turn in the company of others.

It wasn't her nature, but her choice: it seemed to her that every time she tried to explain the state of what was happening inside her, no one could comprehend her, giving her cloying advice she hadn't asked for at all.

She wanted to hear that she didn't need to change, instead however, everyone kept telling her that she should smile more, which she did reluctantly.

Why should she smile if she wasn't happy?

Michael was her opposite, and watching him was like observing a rare animal in the zoo: he was loud and unpredictable, his remarks often lacking tact and sometimes even sense, his chin raised in the confidence that emanated from him.

He was a mean bastard and she knew it, but she couldn't hate him.

To her despair, he seemed to evoke entirely different feelings in her.

His behaviour did not repel her: on the contrary, his explosive, quirky nature aroused a kind of admiration in her, as if he were an alien from another planet, someone who did not really exist.

She watched from the sidelines as Oliver slowly began to make his choice, more and more and more allowing Felix and the rest to absorb him like a large, voracious monsters.

She wasn't sure if the look of disappointment on Michael's face when he waved at him from afar and he didn't respond was a result of his sadness or his anger at having wasted his precious time.

It seemed to her that after he started eating and sitting alone again he quietened down and fell silent, disappearing before her eyes.

One day she got the idea of cheering him up and whenever she had the chance, she would slip a small Crunchie bar into his backpack, usually when he was busy talking to someone or when he put it down on the floor and left it in the corridor while going to the toilet.

She would then sit down next to it and, watching to make sure no one saw, slip the bar into the side pocket of his backpack and return to her seat.

Only twice had she seen his reaction to finding her gift tucked in one of his pockets. He would then look around, and she would lower her gaze, pretending that she was engrossed in a textbook on quantum physics.

She would smile involuntarily when she heard the rustling of the paper after a while, and then look at his thoughtful face, his gaze directed somewhere far away as he bit into the bar as if he were eating a burger.

He was so uncouth, so bright, so unpredictable.

However, her lack of vigilance doomed her: she wanted to do what she always did when she saw that he had thrown his backpack on the ground and headed for one of the rooms, apparently to talk to their professor. As soon as she sat down next to his bag, he came out and looked at her.

She froze, feeling her heart start pounding like crazy, cold sweat running down her back.

She picked herself up and moved to flee, unable to face the shame that spread throughout her body.

"– hey – wait – fuck –" He cursed, wanting to follow her, but remembered his backpack, so retreated to pick it up.

She stepped out into the courtyard, not hearing or seeing anything, blinded by the sun, stunned by the noise in her head and the shrill conviction that some kind of veil had fallen between them.

"– are you deaf? –" She heard him behind her, his large hand grabbing her arm too aggressively and too firmly, turning her away with a sharp, impatient jerk. She stopped, looking with big eyes at his blue checked shirt.

"– do you like rummaging through other people's things? –" He sneered, frustrated and amused at the same time. She simply remained silent, staring dully at the fabric of his shirt, smelling some cheap aftershave and his own scent.

He bowed his head, apparently wanting to meet the gaze of her eyes, but when she noticed his blue irises she turned her face away, quivering in his grasp.

"– you're weird –" He decided and let go of her, stepping around her, making her lower lip start to twitch, burning tears of shame, disappointment and regret gathered under her eyelids, running down her face one by one.

She adjusted the straps of her knapsack on her back and moved ahead on trembling legs wanting to forget it had ever happened.

The next day she felt like throwing up at the thought of their lectures together and ate nothing. She rushed to the classroom at the last minute, walking straight into the room without looking at the people who were waiting for their professor in the corridor.

She sat down in one of the last rows in her seat, far to the side, almost against the wall, where she felt safe.

When she saw out of the corner of her eye his silhouette walking into the hall she froze, lowering her gaze to her fingertips, feeling an uncomfortable constriction in her stomach, trying to blend into the background and not exist.

She shuddered when she noticed that instead of taking his seat in the front row across the hall he moved towards her, walking down the row below her, sitting down opposite her. She swallowed hard when he sat sideways to her, spreading his elbows comfortably on his and her desk, leaning his back against the wall.

"– what's up, little freak? –" He asked simply, tapping his fingers against the top of her table. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling a complete emptiness in her head, having the feeling that she was hot and cold at the same time.

For some reason she wanted to cry again.

Hearing that she didn't answer him he lifted his gaze to her, twisting so that he rested his arms on her desk, correcting his glasses that had slipped off his nose with the index finger of his hand.

"– you've got me used to eating one bar every day and you didn't give me one yesterday – you've ruined my daily routine and it's very fucking annoying, you know? –" He asked with anger and some kind of expectation that completely surprised her, but what she said had nothing to do with his words.

"– I didn't look inside –" She muttered.

"– what? –"

"– I wasn't rummaging through your things –" She explained in a trembling voice feeling that for some reason her eyebrows arched in pain, warm tears one by one began to run down her cheeks again.

"– are you crying? –" He asked in disbelief, wrinkles appeared on his forehead as they always did when someone made him uncomfortable.

"– yes –"

"– because I'm talking to you? –"

"– because I'm ashamed –" She whispered and lowered her gaze, swallowing hard, feeling that it had cost her a lot of strength to choke out these few sentences.

He fell silent for a moment – other students began to sit down around them, their professor announcing that they were about to begin their lecture.

He no longer responded to her words, returning to his previous position, leaning with his back against the wall, one of his hands remaining on her desk. She watched dully as his long fingers beat rhythmically against it, repeating the same movements again and again.

As always, he didn't even open his textbook, didn't write anything down or take notes, memorising everything he heard in his head.

She couldn't afford to do that, so she wrote down meticulously everything their professor spoke about, knowing that it would be one of the topics that would appear on the exam.

As soon as their class was over, she saw his silhouette standing in front of her with the textbook in his hand, which for some reason he carried with him. She packed her bag, pretending she didn't feel his expectant gaze on her.

"I want my Crunchie." He communicated, as if giving her some irrelevant piece of information. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling her lips part involuntarily.

Was he always this cheeky and spiteful?

"Here." He said, pulling a few coins out of his pocket, far too many for one bar, placing them in front of her.

"Just bring it to me." He said impatiently and moved ahead, running down the stairs, correcting his glasses on his nose, disappearing out the door.

She didn't feel like bringing him this fucking bar, but decided she didn't have the strength to stand up to him.

That's why she went to the vending machine standing in the corridor and, using the coins he'd given her, bought him as many bars as the money he'd given her was enough for.

She found him exactly where he always was at this hour, which was in the library.

She knew that he was solving equations not because it was a challenge for him, but because he was terribly bored. She pulled her fabric knapsack off her back and opened it, placing bar after bar on the table top where he sat.

"– I wanted one – are you mad? –"

"– give yourself one each day – you know how to count – have a nice day –"

"– do you have to be so fucking rude? –" He growled with a hint of malice, from which she turned to face him, feeling that for the first time in many years she had lost her temper.

"– take a look at yourself, you spiteful, spoilt brat –" She hissed and froze, wondering how she could have said such a thing, a hot feeling of shame and horror spreading through her stomach.

He stared at her with his lips clenched, furious, his nostrils twitching in an anxious, heavy breath.

She thought he was going to say something, humiliate her again, but they just looked at each other.

"– I – I'm sorry –" She mumbled and turned away, wanting to run away, to sink into the ground, to disappear.

She was sure he would be avoiding her now, telling everyone with amusement what a fucked up and stupid person she was, that she'd stalked him and then started yelling at him in the library.

She knew he commented on various people's behaviour in this way and she was sure he wouldn't spare her.

"– hi, nasty bar slut – what's up? –" He asked, walking up to her as she stood by the notice board, causing her to completely freeze.

"– please, don't call me a nasty slut –" She mumbled, looking at him with big eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders, correcting his glasses on his nose with his index finger, his gaze fixed on the sheets of paper on which the timetables were written.

"– fine – so? –"

She didn't understand what purpose this exchange of words was supposed to serve.

"– and what are you asking? –" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders again.

"– I don't know –"

God.

"– are you still ashamed? –"

She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to her feet, feeling her heart in her throat.

"– yes –"

"– why? –" He asked, as if he didn't understand what her condition was caused by. "– it was pleasant – finding a candy bar in my backpack pocket every day – unexpected – like magic with this dumb tooth fairy –"

She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a strange kind of warmth and relief spread across her chest. She pressed her lips together, adjusting the knapsack on her shoulders.

"– I saw how Oliver treated you – I think I just wanted to comfort you, but I couldn't speak to you like a normal human being –" She choked out finally, feeling that embarrassing sensation of a tightening in her gut again.

He snorted, correcting his glasses on his nose again.

"– sad bullshit is for poets – isn't it? –" He scoffed, still not looking at her, a mischievous grin on his lips.

She wasn't sure she understood him correctly, but it seemed to her that he was trying to tell her that he liked what she was doing in a way.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"– words have never come easily to me, although my head is full of them –"

"– right – I don't have a problem with talking, as long as someone doesn't start tendentious stories about their deep inner life – I don't give a shit, to be honest –"

He said, still avoiding eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck and rubbed the tip of his nose with the top of his hand, doing his best to look anywhere but at her.

"– it seems to me that you don't give a shit about a lot of things –" She stated finally and it was only when he heard this sentence that he looked at her, the intensity of the blue of his irises frightened her.

"– that's true – but that's who I am – I don't pretend to be anyone, unlike those rich losers who haven't earned anything themselves –" He hissed, and she nodded in agreement.

He hummed under his breath, pleased apparently to find in her a listener who didn't question his rather subjective, and therefore, in his mind, sincere judgements.

"– and you? – why do you behave in this way? –" He asked suddenly, and she blinked, feeling her whole body tense up at the urge in some primitive desire to protect herself.

"– what do you mean? –" She asked finally.

"– that whole crying thing of yours –" He said indifferently, once again correcting his glasses with his finger on his nose.

It seemed to her that he was treating her as an equation for which he lacked data, making it impossible for him to solve, much to his natural frustration as a scientist.

She thought she understood him.

"– I don't seem to feel alive – as if I'm a camera recording everything around me – when suddenly someone speaks to me as a person who should be experiencing and thinking something, I feel ashamed, as if someone has caught me in the act –" She choked out with difficulty, thinking in disbelief, terrified, that for the first time she had expressed in words what she was feeling.

She was more afraid than ever of hearing someone's response to what she had said.

He looked at her for a moment, furrowing his brow, as if analysing in his brain the details she had just provided him with.

"– you're lonely –" He stated finally, as if he had at last found a summary of what he thought of her. She pressed her lips together at his words, embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head.

"– yes –"

"– me too – that's no reason to cry –" He said, shrugging his shoulders, sliding his hands into his trousers in some subconscious gesture of discomfort.

She nodded at his words, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"– so –" He began, looking at his shoe as if he saw something interesting on it. "– what now? –"

She swallowed hard, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"– what are you asking? –"

"– me and you – are we mates now? –" He asked, and she involuntarily smiled sincerely for the first time in many years, feeling some pleasant warmth ripple through her lower abdomen.

"– yes –"