Storytime – Eeyore

Eeyore was sad.

It was raining outside, making his favorite sound on the roof of his work building. He hated it.

Rain was Eeyore’s favorite thing growing up in Texas, after a bad day at school, he would just stuff his shoes into his backpack, and walk home in the warm thick rain, getting a free massage from the warm heavy drops, it could metaphorically wash away any sadnes or pain he’d had to deal with that day. School wasn’t that great, he had few friends, he still loved learning but doing it alone isn’t the best thing ever.

It would always rain heavier in the Fall where he was, start of the school year, and just enough rain to keep him happy while he figured out how to make friends again and again. He seemed to have the worst luck, and all of his friends would move away at the end of each school year… it sucked, but he had rain as soon as he needed to start again.

In Utah, however, rain simply sucked. He loved the cloudy skies still, he loved watching lighting and night and hearing thunder all throughout the day, he loved the contrast of gray on green, and how everything looked so much better when he went outside. But it still felt like he was being teased… every year, for the 3 years he had been in Utah. Seeing the rain he loved and depended on so much, but without daring to go out into the freezing awfulness it was.

He learned his first year in Utah that the rain only looked like the one he remembered, but was cold to the point of being painful. After the first time he tried going out into it, because he felt he needed it, the next day he had bronchitis and a sinus infection. No… this wasn’t the rain he missed so much at home. This was something else, instead of cleaning his mind and soul from how much the world sucked, it just emphasized it, like a gorgeous mermaid preparing to take a sailor to die in the depths.


Eeyore still hadn’t quite figured out how to get things out of his system in this place of extreme weather. There was hardly ever a simply cool day, it was always freezing or burning up. He didn’t want to have to do something stupid like actually deal with his problems, why should he when he was raised relieving them through the magic of warm rain anyway? It was unfair to be raised one way, and then after he reached adulthood, which his childhood should have prepared him for, things just go lopsided and anything he learned was useless.

Making friends would probably be a good idea, but he was always bad at that, and now he wasn’t in the same environment where he was forced to make friends through group activities, now people just saw each other as adults, and unless there was specifically something of interest, had no reason to befriend each other outside of the work environment. Eeyore wasn’t the kind of person to spikes someone interest.

Eeyore also had issues with going out and exercising, or doing sports, which are supposed to help. He could go on walks, but always with his ear-buds in, listening to a book usually, and that only helped slow down the anxiety he felt, it never quite fixed it, no matter how long he kept going. He could bike to, and that was a bit better, but also harder to do, and still wasn’t quite the solution. Sports were out of the question, Eeyore was extremely uncoordinated, and the only thing he was good at in sports was hurting other people without trying to.

He had hurt people inadvertently multiple times growing up, it was probably the reason he stopped playing. He was one of the fastest while playing tag in middle school, but he was also already larger than most in his class, and twice he ran into someone else, knocking them hard onto the ground, where one busted his lip, and the other broke her arm. He hated hurting people, he always tried to be nice and kind, but his body was just a mini-bomb waiting to blow on someone and break them.

He felt like other people felt the same way about him just waiting to explode and hurt something. He had a hard time making friends, the only people he managed to make friends with were people that were also broken and short on friendliness, no one else dared give him a chance. Once a chance was given, he was able to prove that he was kind and gentle. Still, friends were scarce, he had a handful of people he could claim to be friendly with, but only maybe one person he dared call friend, because he had no idea if it was mutual, and he managed to relieve some steam speaking to them, but still he couldn’t quite get it out. The core of whatever was frustrating him was still sticking around. Maybe he should attempt to ask his potential friend if they were in fact friends or just friendly, but he didn’t want to risk losing the relationship altogether. People were afraid of trying to define things, he felt, maybe it was his eagerness to define relationships that scared others away from him.

Eeyore often tried to take on projects to distract himself, or to see if that was “his niche” and most didn’t help much. A fish aquarium was boring, buying wood to cut and build the stand for the aquarium was more work than he cared for, carving was too hard and required too much patience, a single bad cut could ruin the end result, drawing was just not a good use of his time as he was bad at it and felt like it was more of homework than it was art in any way. He even tried sewing, which he impressed himself to learn it helped more than most other things. Cleaning helped him alleviate his headaches, but he hated how immediately cold it would feel once he was done, because once there was no longer the current of warm water, the cold disgusting feeling would come to remind him this wasn’t home.

Eeyore used to read more than anyone else he knew, but he simply couldn’t get himself into the mindset for reading anymore, he felt that allowing yourself to immerse into a different world required letting go beforehand, as opposed to what most other people thought, which was that reading would be what got you there. He was at the point of fear of reading his favorite books, some that he could claim taught him the most about one feeling or another, he feared that he would not be able to feel the same and the story would lose significance to him even though he knew their significance was extremely real.

He was slowly picking up old habits that he never realized he appreciated this much. Simple things like listening to a specific musician he never actively listened to, only with someone else as proxy, or cooking, which he never did unless annoyed to the point where cooking was preferential to the annoyance of his parents asking him to help prepare the meal. He wondered if parents nagging at a child to do something, then stopping once the child complied somehow programmed brains to relieve stress when doing that, but didn’t follow the thought too far.


Eeyore worried.

He was still in his early 20’s, and felt like he was not only missing out on things he should be doing right now. He also felt that he may be crippling his goals for the future. He wanted a family, he wanted to provide, he wanted to be romantic, he wanted to have control over his body to play with his children, he wanted as many children as his wife would allow, he wanted to be an example at work. He was slowly losing grasp of all of these things. How could he make a family when he couldn’t even approach girls or ask them on dates? How could he provide if he had no one that needed him? How could he be romantic if he didn’t even dare ask someone if they were friends or just friendly? How could he take control of his body, when he had spent the last few years neglecting it? How could he have children when he couldn’t get close enough to someone to even consider marriage as a possibility? How could he be an example at work when the stress was giving him headaches and making him look like the biggest slacker there, despite his best efforts?

Eeyore wanted to try something, anything, to make progress in his life. He was at a standstill and had no idea how to get out, anyone he tried to approach that wasn’t broken themselves would make conversation, but would go right back to ignoring him as soon as a chance presented itself. He tried to never be imposing or annoying, he tried to just make light conversation, as if to say “I’m not trying to make you my next best friend that I can annoy daily, just saying words and trying to be normal like everyone else, don’t hate me, please?” But the success rate was next to irrelevant, and if he excluded broken people, it was irrelevant. He often enough worried he wasn’t giving a chance to some people that sounded more broken than himself, but he had nothing to offer them, and nothing he could gain from them, he hated attempts at serious conversation and most other more broken people seemingly didn’t get that, causing him more stress than he would otherwise hold on to… At least that is what he thought, it could just be that he thought he was better than them and wanted a life a good as the people who didn’t have to deal with stress and anxiety like he did.

Eeyore was falling apart.


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