#stupid plastic hazards to navigation

[coughupmoney]

Dead On Arrival

Awakening to a sharp pain in your chest is scary, but also it’s really really funny. It was funny even at the time. I had started my first antidepressant about a month before this incident; Viibryd. I hate to say that I love doing drugs but I love doing drugs.

When I was diagnosed with depression, Viibryd had just hit the antidepressant scene, a new drug that would dramatically decrease the latency period before the antidepressant would take effect. The day I was prescribed, I was told the effects would be immediate. As soon as I took the drug, I didn’t even feel happy--I felt balanced. It wasn’t an “upper”: a perky, pleasure pill. It was a secret ingredient that provided my brain with some homeostasis. As immediate as the effects were, so were the adverse effects; but that is the trial by fire you face when you relinquish yourself to the world of pharmaceuticals.

The stability I was finally feeling was wonderful, but was it worth the cost of waking up everyday at four in the morning with a searing pain in your chest? I’ll tell you two truths: one, that this deliciously, delectable drug exacerbated my anxiety and two, I secretly enjoyed waking up everyday at four A.M because it was something I could count on. I’ve always been comforted by stability even if it came in the form of torment. All I craved was some structure. However, the pain started to worry me.

At the time I hadn’t recognized that this searing pain was an anxiety attack. That diagnosis came later, in the hospital. Day after day, I awoke in pain, my hypochondria sighing in sorrow. For the sear, for the burn, for the meeting of tomorrow. Every attack was greeted with overwhelming fear. Fear that I was dying. That I was having a heart attack. I went to sleep thinking that every night would be my last. Eventually, after I had let this fear build up in my chest, the fear overwhelmed me. So naturally, I turned it loose on my parents. I allowed my screams and cries to fall upon their sleeping ears. I desperately knocked on their bedroom door.

I hear muffled voices and footsteps creaking on the hardwood floor. “What’s wrong?” Father answers through a crack of the door. I’m not sure how to explain the pain that I’m in.

“My chest hurts.” I say, with efforts of sincerity. My fear is that my plea will be disregarded. Luckily, I was first held at the will of my overbearing Father.

For him, my plea was an immediate call to action. “Do you want to go to a hospital?” He responded. “I think I have to.” I said. Here’s where the water works start. How pathetic. I mean at this point, couldn’t you have just quietly driven yourself to the ER? Here we go, become a burden on all those forced to love you.

Father and I were panicked, quickly collecting ourselves and carrying our urgent vessels into the vehicle. Mother, on the other hand, was at ease. What a fucking bitch. She slowly made her way out of bed and into the shower. While she soaked herself in relaxing hot water, I waited in the car clutching my chest. Like, way to make me feel like shit, I’m sitting in this musky-ass car possibly having a heart attack and here you are taking your sweet time probably awaiting my possible death. She took her time, drying her hair, putting her face on, and adorning herself in a beautiful outfit. I was clearly no cause for her concern. Not like I’ve ever been...are you kidding? She finally made her way out of the house and into the passenger side of the car. Fuckin’ bitch. As soon as her door shut, Father hit the road and said nothing. How could he just sit there and say nothing to her while she treats me like nothing?

The closest hospital was only 10 minutes away. The ride halted at a red stop light. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I would assume if anyone gave a fuck about me they would have flown through that stupid stop light to get me some proper medical care. On the outside I was cold, stern, and stoic. WHY HE WASN’T RUNNING THE FUCKING RED LIGHT? It was five in morning, there was no other car in sight. The silence was broken by my Father who needed my Mother’s permission to run the light. Of course she made us wait. For a moment I couldn’t believe it. Until I could. It made so much sense. No ticket was worth the potential danger my life was in to this woman.

When I had finally realized that, I laughed my fucking head off. In the car, my explosion of laughter was grounds for mental insanity. My Mother questioned the validity of my pain-of course-but I just couldn’t stop laughing even as I clutched onto my chest. The pain had not subsided, even when the light turned green, even when we had made our way into the emergency room. The pain remained, but the irony was not lost on me. It was truly funny to me. This was the first time I had the full realization that I meant nothing to her. I meant absolutely nothing. I had also seen my Father for the coward his is. I realized that there was no one that could protect me from this environment and at that point all I could do was laugh. My laughter was rooted in disbelief, even though I had an entire lifetime of evidence that convinced me that this experience was completely plausible. I found this cognitive dissonance hilarious.

I guess with some introspection I realized that the alternative reactions wouldn’t have served me well. This is difficult to describe to people. Like, how am I going to tell you that depression and anxiety has been the worst challenge of my life? That it has given me insurmountable pain, and yet it has saved my life on multiple occasions? I revere mental illness as the miracle reaper of life. It has challenged every molecule of my being to give into death, yet has allowed me to navigate traumatic situations with ease because, of course, with anxiety, I expected all this to happen anyway.  

The rest of the trip wasn’t as eventful. The first course of action included attaching stickers onto my chest to monitor my heart’s rhythms. I remember two things about this scene; I had to take off my shirt, and I was afraid. What does it say about me that I was more concerned with the fact that I would be taking me shirt off rather than being concerned with the probable cause of my lurid chest pain? The technician was sweet. Tasty even, his skin looked soft and I wanted to touch it. From what I remember, I had made it clear to him that I was uncomfortable. I fear that I secretly wanted his pity. I realized that this would be the first time I was going to take my shirt off in front of a man. Honestly, it was hard to not be a little turned on.  I had spent about two years trying to avoid this moment and here my life was depending on it. I took off the white cotton sweatshirt I had fallen asleep in. Sexy right? I laid myself down on the thin, noisy paper availed upon the hospital bed bust. Pieces of my skin stuck to the leather peeking from beneath the tissue.

I knew this was standard procedure, I knew he did this everyday to all sorts of people. It still felt intimate for me. He and I made eye contact while he slowly stuck cold plastic stickers all over my chest. It made me embarrassed. I was a little wet. I was self conscience about my body. He assured me that I was doing great. The technician had no idea that I was slightly turned on and that’s okay with me. But honestly I thought we had a connection. He turned to me and showed me my heart monitor. The technician said that my results were normal. Normal heart rate, regular rhythm and if I remember correctly, he said I had a beautiful heart rhythm. What did I tell you? He loved me.

After we had ruled out that I was in fact not having a heart attack, we moved on to see if there was any damage to my upper body organs. I walked with another technician to get a chest x-ray. For this I had to change into a fabulous white hospital gown that showed off the spine line that led to my glorious plush pyjama pants. This technician was different. He was more personable. He left the room while I changed and when he stepped back in, he lifted my chart from the box above the door. I studied his face as he read my chart. I was looking for hints and tone. How was he going to address me? When he finally looked up at me, he smiled and asked, “How are you liking Viibryd?”

I was surprised but I responded slyly, “It’s pretty immediate actually, I’ve heard that other antidepressants can take up to six months to take effect.” When two people with mental illnesses get into a room together, there's an immediate sense of comradery. As long as someone is brave enough to out themselves first, the bond of emotional strife, taking drugs, and going to therapy is pretty immediate.

“I’ve been taking Zoloft for a while now”, he added.

“How long have you been depressed?” I asked. I was really hoping he’d say “Not very long! It was a temporary thing for me.” That was not the answer I received, of course.

He told me he had been depressed his entire life. That’s it. That’s always it. No one ever just does a stint with depression, it’s always a life sentence. A struggle that starts but never ends. At least, not until you end. He went on to tell met that it’s been an ongoing struggle for him and that he’s only recently been properly medicated. This is another thing that bothers me. Anytime you talk to someone struggling with depression They suffer for so long before they seek treatment. I am curious to know whether this is a folly on culture and institution or just a hazard of the illness.

He interrupted my thought, he had to ask me some health related questions before we did the chest x-ray. The technician jotted down some quick information about my age and medications I was taking. He also shyly asked if there was any way I could be pregnant. I said, “There’s no possible way.”

He responded “You’re not practicing huh?” I quickly wanted to change the subject but instead replied with a stern “no”. I don’t know why I was embarrassed to be a virgin. Maybe I was just embarrassed, about being a virgin and about my body. Two singularities existing in the multiplex of life. Whatever. He lead me to the machine. He placed a heavy lead cover on my chest. I knew this was to protect me from ray scatter.

“Just like the dentist” I joked. He told me that he was going to step into the small boxy closet in the corner of the room to take a few pictures. I stood still. I never thought anything could be wrong with my chest organs, yet my hypochondria sense was tingling. He left to take the pictures. It was painless. When he came back, I wanted to probe him with questions. “So is my chest okay?” My organs? My lungs? Was I slowly but surely dying? Was this the end of life as I knew it?

He spoke casually, “Only the doctor can really tell you that, I only take pictures.”

“That doesn’t help me.” I said.

He turned to me, not as a technician but as a person, and said, “I really think you’re fine.” I smiled and nodded. That is honestly all I’ve ever wanted anyone to say.

He walked me back to a regular hospital room to wait to speak with the doctor. I sat on the bed while both my parents sat in chairs in the corner of the room looking at their phones. Eventually, Father looked up at me, the gleam of screen still in his eyes, and asked how it went. I replied “It was fine”, so that he could get back to his phone.

Soon after, the ER Doctor knocked on the door and walked in. She looked at me hopefully. I feel like a sigh, like deflated air. She was carrying my chart, she flipped a few pages and said that my heart and lungs looked perfectly healthy. She deduced that my chest pain was an adverse effect of my new antidepressant and should subside over time. Of course at this point, Mother chimed in to say “I told you, antidepressants are bad for you.”

The ER Doctor responded, “Actually these symptoms are common while the body acclimates to the new drug.”

I’m not sure if Mother listened to one word that came out of the doctor’s mouth, she only replied, “I just believe that they’re bad.”

The doctor wasn’t sure how to respond. She told me that she was going to give me some Klonopin and beta blockers to subdue the anxiety. I took them both before we left. Within 30 minutes, my chest pain subsided. I felt lightheaded in the best way possible. We walked out of the ER and I listened to my parents talk as I slid back into the car. The only thing Mother had to say to Father about the experience was, “I can’t wait to see how much that bill will be, she shouldn’t even take antidepressants.” And maybe I would’ve cared, if I wasn’t so fucking high.

[jestbee]

Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Sixteen)

Title: Ships that Pass in the Night (Chapter Sixteen)

Tags:  Alternate Timeline, AU, Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers Words: 3.5k Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to Author’s Note: I blame @ineverhadmyinternetphase for the fact that this got started because I said if she posted her fic Missent Text that I would write some of this in return. Then @charlottekath made vegan cheese from scratch and put it in a pie with whiskers on it and well… how could I help but be inspired?

Also I'll level with you, I wanted to finish all of Ships and post it all on Xmas day but the next chapter is proving really difficult so I couldn't get it done. So… you can have this one.

Merry Christmas!!!

(also this is completely unbeta’d becuase I didn’t want to disturb my beta at the holidays) [AO3 Link]   [Tumblr Masterpost]  

The glass is still there the next morning. He shouldn't have expected it to be gone but there it is. Freaking out tends to do funny things to his brain, like he's viewing them all from a distance or it happened to someone else.

He doesn't know whether he's grateful for the potentially dangerous reminder that Dan had turned up at his flat, or not.

He keeps his promise early morning, setting the phone to ring on loudspeaker while he tries to clear up shards of glass from a mildly wet floor using the smallest dustpan and brush ever created.

He narrowly avoids cutting himself, but he does avoid it.

When PJ answers he's reminded that not everyone has taken to bed for a week and are consequently up really early. He's reminded that some people have normal sleep patterns where their thoughts don't keep them up late and wake them early, filled with a jumble of everything, everything, everything and how much of a mess it all is. The world has continued outside of his bubble and that feels unwelcome, somehow.

"Hello?" PJ's voice croaks.

"Peej," he says, jostling the plastic bag and the brush and the dustpan and all of it threatening to end up back all over the floor anyway.

"What the hell, Phil? It's eight in the morning."

"I'm er…" He ties the top of the bag and sits fully down on the floor, facing the phone, legs crossed, still talking into the loudspeaker because it's nice to have noise in his flat. Sort of. "Calling."

"I know that."

"No I mean… you know. Calling. I need…"

He hears the rustle of bedsheets and he feels, for a moment, that sinking sensation of guilt that always comes when he's burdening someone with all of his mess. When he's this close to letting it spill over he feels the urge to build that wall back up, to keep everyone at arm's length for their own good. But this will never be solved if he does, and he needs to somehow sort out the jumble of thoughts and confusion and mistakes he's made over the past few days. Besides, he'd made a promise. And on this occasion that's enough to make him take action. Once upon a time it might not have been.

He's acutely aware that may mean he's gotten better, that he's somehow stronger than last time but he doesn't exactly want to test that theory.

What is it they said? There's strength in asking for help, too.

"I'm here," PJ says, louder, clearer, like he's stepped into a different room. Gotten out of bed probably.

Phil sighs, picks up the phone. He's still on the floor, legs crossed in the middle of his hallway but he turns off the loudspeaker and presses the phone to his ear.

"I don't know how to… ugh. This is so stupid honestly."

"What happened?"

Phil doesn't know where to start, the words spin away from him. How does he explain the horrible sinking feeling he'd felt when Cat and Tyler said what they said, the drag of fear when Dan had turned up at his door. How does he describe the suspended hope of something. Something. It's carved out of the solid weight of his uncertainty. He wants to believe, can feel where the belief would fit in his chest, but it hurts. It lays heavy, thick, weighted and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to carry hope, it's nothing like he's used to.

He can't even find the words to confess that he's been hiding for a week.

"I haven't been in touch lately," PJ says, his voice is kind of muffled as if from behind his fingers and Phil can imagine the guilty expression on his face, like him texting could have at all prevented whatever the hell it is Phil is going through.

"I… it wouldn't have… mattered. If you had. I'm--"

He stops, because he's so lost in it all he couldn't even define what he was. What word exists for this? Sad? Confused? Hopeless? Nothing feels right, maybe it's all of that, or none of it. Explaining it has always been the hard part. Feeling it… feeling this way has never been difficult. He manages that with ease.

"Coffee," PJ decides for him, not waiting anywhere near long enough for Phil to come up with right words. "I can come there."

"I need to go outside," Phil says, staring forlornly at the tied up bag of glass, hazard now contained but not yet disposed of.

He doesn't want to go outside. He wants to stay where it's safe and familiar but, coping mechanisms aren't always productive.

"We can do that, Starbucks?"

Phil thinks of Dan pressed up close to him on a couch, thigh pressed to thigh in a steam cloud of caramel-flavoured caffeine. "No, um, the other place? The one with the crappy sandwiches?"

"I know which one you mean," PJ says, "I can be there in an hour?"

"Yes. Please."

Something on his voice must sound desperate because PJ is quick to follow it up with a, "Everything will be okay. I'll be there soon."

Phil is the one to hang up once they've said goodbye, like PJ is afraid to terminate the call if Phil still needs him. Phil suspects PJ would stay on the phone with him the full hour it takes them to get ready to meet in person if needs be. He's a good friend like that.

-

He doesn't get his usual order when he gets there. He picks a plain coffee and adds a little milk and sugar and huddles in a corner seat until PJ gets there. He's flushed a little red when he does get here, like he's run all the way and Phil is mildly guilty that he's messed up his day already.

"Hey," PJ says, coming straight to the table before ordering his drink.

"Hey."

PJ is hovering. He's doing that thing where he really wants to ask if Phil is okay but he knows that might be the worst question in the world to ask right now. Phil knows it isn't fair, he hates doing this to people because he can't expect them to act in all the right ways. But PJ has always tried so hard, and everything he does is with the best intentions but all the expression on his face is doing is making Phil's stomach twist up more and more with the overwhelming shame of having to go through this time and time again.

"I'm okay," Phil says, answering before PJ asks because he can at least offer him that, "Go get coffee."

PJ looks a little uncertain for a second but he does drop his bag, turn around and go to get coffee.

Phil busies himself with his phone but he can feel PJ staring him out of the corner of his eye, tracking him even as he waits for his coffee to be made.

Once he's back in the seat opposite him, Phil has to put down his phone and look at him directly.

"What happened this morning?" PJ asks.

"Not this morning," Phil says, clearing his throat. "It was… ah… a few days ago."

PJ nods curtly but his eyes narrow. "You didn't call a few days ago."

"No."

"Have you spoken to anyone since then?"

Phil shakes his head.

PJ sighs, like he wants to say something more. Admonish Phil maybe, insist that he should have called? He knows it isn't that easy.

"So what happened a few days ago?"

"Um…"

Phil takes a sip of his coffee and is surprised to find his hands are shaking slightly.

"It's okay," PJ says, "Take your time."

Take his time. Phil is always taking his time and stumbling over everything and he really needs to get out of the habit of running away all the time. He'd called PJ, hadn't he? He'd been the one to ask for this meeting, because he knows he needs help sometimes. He needs to learn how to ask for it better, and how to accept it when it's being offered.

"I went to a party with Dan."

"What did he do?"

PJ looks mad. He's put his mug back down on the table and he's sat straight up, poised for action, as though he would spring right over to Dan's flat and give him hell if Phil so much as implied he'd done anything wrong.

"He didn't… well, I'm not sure if he… it might all be in my head. Or it might not. It might all be completely true."

"Okay… what might?"

Phil shuffles down in his seat, his shoulders shrugged almost up to his ears, trying to make himself smaller. He wants to block all of this out but it isn't helping, hasn't helped so far, so he might as well give this a try.

"Some people at the party implied that Dan… that he was only... f-friends with me to boost his YouTube career."

"Friends?"

Phil looks down into his coffee and watches the light glint off the still top of it. It ripples as PJ leans forward in his seat and bangs the table.

"Phil… did you… are you and Dan…"

Phil nods his head, still not looking at him. "We… after the Google thing. I... "

PJ doesn't say anything. Maybe he has no words for how stupid Phil has been, or maybe he's just letting Phil find his own way around all of this. Either way, Phil has to look up at him finally to try and navigate the conversation.

"It was… Peej it wasn't like, well it wasn't like anything else. I know, I know, I don't want to go into detail, I know you don't want to hear it but… it had me believing it. It was different. It was… good."

It was good. The rarity of it, how special it had felt, like it wasn't something thrown away, not just a singular moment in time they'd both forget afterwards. It was something else. But then it wasn't.

"But then afterwards?"

"Then there was the party and people saying things and… I just don't know what to believe. How can I trust anything he says?"

"You just have to look at everything, Phil. You can't judge it based on this one tiny incident… I know I was cautious too. I didn't want to see you get hurt."

Phil remembers. He remembers how unsure PJ had been when they'd played games at his house, how he'd looked scared and unsure on Phil's behalf when they'd left Google.

"But it wasn't because I thought Dan wasn't serious." he continues, "It was only because I thought… well, I didn't know if you'd want to be in another… situation with a YouTuber."

Phil bites down on his bottom lip hard, leaving teeth prints in it.

"I thought so too… I mean, I don't want to be. I don't." Phil shakes his head, "at least I don't think so."

"Phil."

"Yeah?"

"Do you… honestly now… do you really think Dan is faking all of that? Could he have? After everything you've told me…And well, after everything he's been out there doing… doesn't that prove something to you?"

Phil doesn't know. Nothing makes sense any more. He wants PJ to tell him want to do, to give him the answer to every question that he has but he knows that's not how it works.

"He came to my house yesterday."

PJ nods, "He did? What did he want?"

"Mostly to tell me off, maybe. But I also accused him of everything. He denied it of course. He said the reason he tweets and stuff so much is because… well, not for the reason I thought."

"You were mad at him about the tweeting?"

Phil nods, "Yeah. I think… well it's one of the main reasons why I'm inclined to believe he's full of shit."

PJ frowns. He looks so confused, lines appears on his forehead, but Phil really doesn't understand why.

"You know," he clarifies, "He tweets whenever we do anything and he's always replying to people and… did you know there's a ship name now? It's ridiculous. It's just Phan. It doesn't even work out loud, like you have to write it down."

"But…"

"No, I know." Phil says, "That doesn't prove anything. But I guess I just thought that he was showing off, using my name for views."

"For views?" PJ says, that perplexed look still on his face, skin between his brows all bunched up. "But… Phil, what he's been doing on Twitter isn't helping him any. If anything, there are some people who think responding to all of Charlie's drama actually makes him look really petty."

Phil's coffee sloshes over the side of his cup as he sits up quickly, shuffling to the edge of his seat and bumping the table in the process. There is a small creeping puddle of coffee on the wooden table top, seeping towards the edge of it, threatening to drip onto his jeans.

"What Charlie drama?"

PJ brushes his hair out of his face. It's a little wild this morning, a huge mass of waves sitting fluffy and huge around his face. It's always a little crazy but he's been in a rush this morning, Phil knows, so it is quite untamed.

"You… oh God."

"What?"

"You really don't know."

"Peej… what the hell are you talking about?"

The coffee puddle has spread and Phil has to lean over, pluck the haphazard pile of napkins from this coffee tray and swipe the edge of the table. All the while, PJ is sat with his mouth parted, tongue rolled forward to his front teeth as if trying to find the words to say.

"Jesus Phil, I mean I don't know if I should be the one to… if you don't know."

"Tell me!" Phil says, his voice a little louder than he intends so that the people at the next table look up at him. He shoots them an apologetic look and lowers his voice, "please. Look… just tell me what's going on. I'm so confused. I need to make sense of it all and if you know something--"

"Ok, ok." PJ rubs the back of his neck with one hand, "Let me just… I need to figure out where to start."

"Okay."

Phil sits back in his chair, takes his mug with him so that it is cradled between his hands.

"Do you have Charlie blocked on Twitter?"

That comes out of nowhere. Phil hasn't thought about that in a while but he remembers sitting on his hospital bed, bag packed and finally back in his own clothes. He remembers staring at his phone as he waited for his parents to get there and deciding to finally put an end to it, resolving to start over.

"Yes."

"Okay. Good. I mean… That'll be why you haven't…" he sighs, "I guess I just thought Dan might have mentioned it."

Phil feels his palms go sweaty around the cup. He isn't sure if it's the heat of the ceramic or the mention of Charlie's name and the inference that he's back in his life, causing trouble.

"Mentioned what?"

He feels sick. The bottom of his stomach drops out and it's like he's dangling over a precipice, seconds away from disaster.

"Right." PJ picks up his cup, blows out over the top of it to cool it slightly, but he doesn't take a sip. "Charlie has been on Twitter. I guess he saw interactions between you and Dan and… well, he's been…"

PJ trails off and instead digs his phone out of this pocket. He taps around on it for a while before passing it over to Phil. Phil puts down his cup, wraps his fingers around PJ's phone and brings it close to his face.

He can barely look at first. Just a glimpse of that familiar username and a slightly updated profile picture is enough to make his chest feel tight and his breathing snag in his chest. He has to do this, he needs to see.

danisnotonfire: OMG senpai noticed me?!?!

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire don't waste your time

Right from the beginning. It's all the way back to the beginning, to the point where Phil first engaged with Dan on Twitter.

He can't breathe, it's too much. But he can't stop, his thumb moves up the screen, scrolling down to see more and more, every time they've interacted, every time they mentioned each other, he's there.

danisnotonfire: #phanimalfacts is trending @AmazingPhil what have we done?

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire good luck, we all know he likes to hide everything, don't be surprised if it doesn't last long

Charlie is still up to his old lies, still touting that old story out. How long has this been going on? Is it just Dan, or does he still drag it all out at regular intervals? Phil can't escape it. He's tried.

He wanted to start over, to put all of this behind him, to stop it all in its tracks. That's why he'd blocked Charlie in the first place.

But it hasn't had any effect at all. Charlie is still out there, never letting it die, never letting him be free of it.

danisnotonfire: your fave nerdy british boys met irl finally are you hyped? @AmazingPhil

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire seriously, get out while you still can, he's not a nice person

He'd warned him off. Phil closes his eyes for a second before reading onwards, he can't do this. He doesn't want to see it.

But his thumb moves up anyway, and soon, it isn't just Charlie tweeting at Dan.

danisnotonfire: @AmazingPhil tweeting is not resting dont make me confiscate your phone

Charlieskies: @danisnotonfire did he tell you how I used to take care of him when he was ill?

danisnotonfire: what is it you are getting out of this exactly?

He hadn't sent it while he was with Phil. It was afterwards, when he went home.

Charlieskies: just looking out for you mate, you should learn from my experience. I know what he's like

danisnotonfire: jealousy doesn't become you

danisnotonfire: and I'm not your mate

Charlieskies: no need to be hostile

danisnotonfire: you haven't seen hostility yet i care about him so if you carry on i'll show you hostile

Phil lets the phone fall to the table. It clatters on the wood and he drops his forehead into his palms. They are warm, slightly clammy, he sucks in a breath and tries to steady himself.

There's more, Dan fighting his corner, telling Charlie to stop. Phil can't look at any more

"He's been…"

"Yeah."

"And Dan…"

"Hm."

"Shit."

If PJ is surprised by the language he doesn't let on. Phil drags his fingers down his face and looks up.

"Why?"

PJ shrugs. "I don't know. But… Well, he wouldn't be doing all of this if… if any of what you're so scared of was true."

Phil looks at it from that angle. It's true. Dan going off on Twitter isn't doing him any favours so why is he doing it? What would be the point? Unless…

"You think he's being genuine."

"I've only met the guy a few times, so I'm not going to sit here and tell you that he definitely is. But Phil… the way he looks at you. The way you are with each other. That's not fake."

Phil looks down at the phone again, screen faded to black. He slides it back over the table. He's seen enough.

"And he knows about... " he swallows. "Charlie."

PJ cocks his head. "He's been there since the beginning Phil. He's watched your channel and commented on everything you've ever done. Did you think he missed it?"

"No… just… he's never said anything. About… well like everyone had an opinion on it didn't they? Whether they believed him. Dan has never said…"

"Do you think he would? If you didn't bring it up?"

"I don't know."

He thinks about them sharing secrets. He think about Dan coming out and Phil telling him about his anxiety. He hasn't shared everything. Not even close. But Dan has never pushed him to, not once.

PJ picks up the phone and slides it back in to his pocket. "I think he cares about you Phil. I think he saw it all and he cares about you anyway. But maybe you owe him the bigger story… the bits everyone didn't see."

Phil shakes his head automatically because part of his whole starting over routine was vowing never to talk about it. He's made that final pact with himself to stay closed off from it all, to shove it all down and try and pretend it didn't happen. It was the only way he could move on.

But that isn't working any more. Still, the idea of telling Dan everything… it's scary.

"I need to talk to him, huh?"

"Yeah… I think you do."

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Brilliant Hiking Sticks

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Hiking and backpacking are fantastic techniques to get pleasure from the great outdoors and get superb physical exercise at the same time. They let you to get away from the rat race and cast off the stress and pressures that come with it. The peace, solitude and fresh air are great for comforting the body and the mind.

Regrettably, the peace and solitude hide the reality that the fantastic outdoors also can be a cruel and unforgiving location for the unprepared. Every year the news reviews of hikers and backpackers who met with catastrophe because they either underestimated nature or overestimated their talents. No matter whether it’s a quick day hike or an extended backpacking expedition there are amount of factors you want to do to make certain your outing is risk-free and enjoyable.

Pre-Trip Arranging

Analysis and select a route that matches your conditioning. If you can’t establish how difficult the trail is, ask! This is vital if you are new to the outdoors or returning after a prolonged layoff. It is effortless to underestimate the issues of a trail specially if it is new to you. Alternately, we all have a tendency to overestimate our physical abilities. This is particularly correct as we get older. Be entirely trustworthy with yourself. A dark, cold mountainside is not the area to admit you are in over your head.

Be sure you have adequate time to reach your location while it is even now light. Even an straightforward trail can grow to be treacherous once darkness falls. The issues of the trail, your physical problem and the bodily condition of everybody in your group is all component of the equation. If hiking in a group, don’t forget to plan for the lowest typical denominator. The slowest man or woman in the group will decide your tempo.

Obtain a topographic map or a hiking guidebook that covers your route and know how to study it. There are books, computer software and classes that will teach you how to read through and navigate employing them. Practice map navigating on quick hikes so you will know how to on longer journeys. Also, examine the weather forecast before you head out and be ready for any variety of climate.

Constantly let an individual know your journey strategies. This can’t be emphasized sufficient. How numerous times have you heard of the misplaced hiker who took off on their with no letting anyone know where there were going or when they would be back. They were asking for difficulties.

Let somebody know in writing where you are going, when you will be gone and when you prepare to return. Be distinct. Supply dates, the name of the trailhead and trail, the specifics of the route and when you anticipate to return. The more in depth you can be the much better. Once you have your prepare stick to it. Varying from your itinerary can be hazardous should anything go incorrect and you want to be rescued.

The initial rule for hikers and backpackers should be “Never go out alone”. I know there are a huge quantity of solo hikers and backpackers out there and, I am sorry if this offends you, but solo hiking and backpacking is stupid. We’ve all heard the horror stories of solo hikers and packers struggling injury or dying in the wilds alone. The renowned story of Aron Ralston alone should be sufficient to dissuade you from going it solo.

Line up a hiking companion, if feasible. While it is greatest to avoid hiking alone, if you must go it solo, be smart and choose well-travelled trails where you will most likely experience someone should you run into difficulty.

On The Trail

Initial, ensure you are effectively dressed. Dress in layers and often be ready for modifying climate specifically in mountains or canyons where bad weather can come on you with tiny or no discover. Be sure you have some type of rain gear and cold-weather gear, if acceptable. Keep away from cotton clothing, which when moist insulates poorly and dries slowly. Wetness and hypothermia go hand in hand and can be a deadly blend.

Dress in suitable hiking footwear and that match effectively. This is not an region to scrimp on. Top quality, well-fitting boots could make the difference between a fantastic hike and a miserable one. Never wear a new pair of boots on a long hike as sores and blisters are likely. Break them in slowly by testing boots on shorter hikes or walking all around your community.

Constantly carry a compass and a topographic map of the location and know how to use both. Shell out interest to landmarks on the trail, and verify your map often even on an evident trail. Mark landmarks on the map as you pass them. It is a very good idea to turn close to periodically to see how the trail appears when you are heading in the other path. This will help make finding your way back less complicated.

Don’t get separated from your companion or group. In no way drop sight of them and wait for stragglers at any trail junction. Never ever change directions without the entire group being with each other. Carry a whistle inside of simple reach. 3 blasts of a whistle is the universal signal for help. Don’t maintain it in an out of the way place in your backpack. Should you be injured you may possibly not be in a position to reach it.

Carry loads of water and drink often to steer clear of dehydration. Dehydration is a prime enemy of hikers and backpackers. Don’t wait until you are thirsty to drink. If you do, you are currently getting to be dehydrated. Also, don’t drink water from ponds or streams except if you have taken care of it first by boiling, filtering or utilizing purification tablets.

Always have a fire starter and matches. If you get misplaced and need to spend the night outside a fire will help avert hypothermia and signal for aid.

Be sure to carry a initial help kit and know how to use it. It is a excellent notion to get a 1st assist program. Read up on widespread trail injuries specifically and how to treat them. Be certain to carry moleskin or band-aids to support with blisters.

Deliver along a knife or other multi-purpose tool. Ensure it is of good quality and that the blades have sharp edges. Anything along the line of a Swiss Army knife or a Leatherman device are great for emergency repairs of all sorts.

Be positive to pack a flashlight or other kind of hiking torch. It will be invaluable to you don’t make it to your location before it will get dark.

Use a hiking pole or walking stick. Using hiking poles and walking sticks can help regular your stability on uneven terrain. Moreover, they support ease the pressure on your legs, feet, and, particularly, knees. They also can be used as emergency shelter supports, to carry items and as defensive weapons should it be required.

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