[It is easier to talk about it over text. The fact is, Adam hasn't really talked about it - not at all. His friends from home already knew, they were there while it happens, sometimes quite literally. He never had to explain anything to them, though he probably should, since there are a lot of thing they never knew.
And here, there's been no need to. A couple people have figured it out here and there, thanks to the events this place throws at them regularly, but Sharon's the only one still around, and it's not like he's ever sat her down and explained the details. It's not like he's ever sat anyone down and explained the details, except the police. And even that was - well, glossed over. A summary.
But he doesn't intend to change that anytime soon. A summary is good enough, and mostly impersonal. He doubts Lance wants to hear any gritty details, either.]
About four months before I came here.
[And it's been two years that he's been here, and that's helped, but - well, it's also a little like living in stasis. When he goes back, he knows it'll be like none of this ever happened.]
A few weeks before I turned eighteen.
[It's shameful, admitting that. He should have gotten out a long time before. He blames himself for that a lot, even though he also remembers the feeling of being trapped, of not having a choice, of being afraid to ruin the only life he knew. But in the end, he can only blame himself. Adam was never waiting to be rescued, he was only too afraid to walk away on his own.]
It was a big mess. But I think it probably always is.
[Lance has spoken about it more, probably, than Adam has, although the vast majority of that was during counseling through his childhood years. As a teenager, and especially as an adult, he almost never says anything; it's partially because he doesn't want people knowing, but also partially because it's just too difficult. Even with his friends who are aware of what happened, he's never actually spoken with them about it beyond vague allusions.
But Adam is right in that he isn't asking for details, not just because it would be incredibly insensitive but because Lance doesn't think he could handle hearing much of them. There are several reasons he chose not to work with children, or even teenagers, and this is one of them; he can't be objective or helpful in a professional capacity when he isn't capable of keeping the required distance from the subject.
What little Adam does tell him is difficult enough to hear, although not just due to his own experiences.]
I'm sorry. I can't imagine.
[He'd never been in a particularly good foster home, but the one that had been the very worst had only lasted eighteen months and that had still been enough to scar him for life, both mentally and physically. Although he doesn't know for sure--and won't ask--exactly when things started for Adam, he has the impression from everything so far that it's probably been a long time.]
Yes, it is always a mess. At least in every case I know of.
[He feels it's important to make sure Adam knows that's the case; nothing about this, no matter how different the situations or details, is ever simple or clear.
After that, Lance hesitates, not sure exactly what more to say; part of him feels like he should offer his own answer to the question he asked of Adam, just to be fair, but the rest of him balks at saying even that much. There's something a lot more important that he should probably make clear, anyway.]
And although I can't offer professional help in this situation, if you ever want to talk or are just having one of the more difficult days and need a reminder that you're not alone, you can always message me.
[Because feeling alone is all too common, especially when you've gone through something that none of your friends understand or, alternatively, understand but can't bring themselves to talk about either.]
[It's better, he thinks, if that's true. If Lance can't imagine, that means he went through - well, something else, at least. More than anything, Adam doesn't want anyone else to go through the same things he did. He doesn't allow himself to indulge in self-pity if he can help it, and he knows there are people in the world who had far worse childhoods. But still. It was bad. He doesn't want that for anyone else.]
Thank you. I don't know if I will. It's hard for me.
[He's being honest, which is significant. In most cases, Adam would politely thank someone for an offer like that and then distance himself and never speak of it again. It's easier that way. He's doing better than he once was, and he has people he trusts here, but even so it isn't easy for him to reach out for help when he needs it. That's always been difficult.]
But - I really appreciate it.
[Even if accepting an offer like that is difficult for Adam, he can appreciate what it takes to offer it, especially for someone who's been through something similar. He's sure this can't be easy for Lance to talk about, he's sure it must be bringing up bad memories. They'll probably both sleep poorly tonight. So it means something that he's offering anyway.]
It seems stupid to offer the same. I'm not really in any position to help anyone, I don't think. But I can listen if you ever need to talk.
[It is the least he can offer. And, in some ways, he's curious. It's an awful subject for them both, but Adam has never really spoken to someone who's been through anything similar. He has friends with trauma (pretty much all of them, here and at home), but nothing like what he grew up with.]
[Likewise, Lance understands it probably takes a lot for Adam to make the same offer in return, and he also gets that Adam's first response is very honest; it's the same answer Lance wants to give himself. Talking, even after so much time and even to someone he knows wouldn't judge, is difficult.
And, of course, there's the matter of that even though it'd be good for them both in the long run, in the short term bringing everything back up--for themselves, and for each other--is a real concern. Giving them both a little time to think over things is probably for the best.]
It isn't stupid, and thank you. I can't say I'm sure I'll take you up on it either, but maybe in the future.
[And just knowing the option is there means a lot.
But this conversation has been a lot more mentally and emotionally exhausting than he expected, and he imagines it's the same for Adam, so this seems like a good place to leave things for now.]
I should let you get back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted you.
I should too. I'm sure you've got a lot of stuff to do.
[It doesn't really matter if that's true or not - Adam thinks that right now they both want an easy exit. It's not that this conversation was bad, it's not that he doesn't like Lance or even that he doesn't trust him. It's just - a lot. A lot of personal stuff, and Adam thinks it's probably the same for both of them.
It isn't easy to talk about these things. It isn't easy to admit what has happened, and it isn't easy to sympathize. Maybe it should be, but Adam doesn't think that kind of thing is ever effortless.
Despite that, simply being acknowledged helps in a strange way. Adam went through most of his life dealing with things on his own, focusing all his energy on survival, and even when he found people who did care for him, they didn't come from the same place. In some ways, it was impossible for them to understand, no matter how much they were there for him. This is different.
Different, but a lot to deal with, especially for Adam, who's only recently removed from the situation. He probably ought to see a therapist, someday, but that isn't an option here and likely won't be anytime soon at home. So he copes however he can. It usually works out.]
[He wishes he could offer to help professionally, because therapy is definitely important in this situation, but he can't; not only has he told Adam too much about his own experiences for it to be ethical to provide counseling, but Lance is also aware of his own limitations. He knows he wouldn't be capable of being objective, and even more than that he doesn't think he'd be able to handle the subject in general, let alone do so with the required level of professional distance.
But even though that isn't an option, there are other ways to help, and hopefully that'll be possible at some point in the future. Right now, though, he's glad Adam seems to understand the need to bow out of the conversation.]
I'll talk to you later then, and let me know if you need anything, alright?
[Related to this, or otherwise; maybe it's just holdover from the event, or because of this conversation, or both, but he feels like he should look out for Adam as much as he can.]
[In another context it might feel odd to say that - and truthfully, it does a bit here, too. Lance is an adult, he seems to have his life together, he seems competent and intelligent. Adam may be technically an adult - he certainly passed his twentieth birthday a few months back, if his reckoning of time here is right - but he rarely feels like one.
In reality, of course, he is quite a bit more mature than many his age. He's had to deal with more than his share of difficulties, and most of it all on his own. Until recently, anyway. So he supposes it isn't so odd to offer what help he can give in return, whether it ends up being something about the city or something else entirely. He can do that much, at least. Make himself useful.]
[Text]
And here, there's been no need to. A couple people have figured it out here and there, thanks to the events this place throws at them regularly, but Sharon's the only one still around, and it's not like he's ever sat her down and explained the details. It's not like he's ever sat anyone down and explained the details, except the police. And even that was - well, glossed over. A summary.
But he doesn't intend to change that anytime soon. A summary is good enough, and mostly impersonal. He doubts Lance wants to hear any gritty details, either.]
About four months before I came here.
[And it's been two years that he's been here, and that's helped, but - well, it's also a little like living in stasis. When he goes back, he knows it'll be like none of this ever happened.]
A few weeks before I turned eighteen.
[It's shameful, admitting that. He should have gotten out a long time before. He blames himself for that a lot, even though he also remembers the feeling of being trapped, of not having a choice, of being afraid to ruin the only life he knew. But in the end, he can only blame himself. Adam was never waiting to be rescued, he was only too afraid to walk away on his own.]
It was a big mess. But I think it probably always is.
[Text]
But Adam is right in that he isn't asking for details, not just because it would be incredibly insensitive but because Lance doesn't think he could handle hearing much of them. There are several reasons he chose not to work with children, or even teenagers, and this is one of them; he can't be objective or helpful in a professional capacity when he isn't capable of keeping the required distance from the subject.
What little Adam does tell him is difficult enough to hear, although not just due to his own experiences.]
I'm sorry. I can't imagine.
[He'd never been in a particularly good foster home, but the one that had been the very worst had only lasted eighteen months and that had still been enough to scar him for life, both mentally and physically. Although he doesn't know for sure--and won't ask--exactly when things started for Adam, he has the impression from everything so far that it's probably been a long time.]
Yes, it is always a mess. At least in every case I know of.
[He feels it's important to make sure Adam knows that's the case; nothing about this, no matter how different the situations or details, is ever simple or clear.
After that, Lance hesitates, not sure exactly what more to say; part of him feels like he should offer his own answer to the question he asked of Adam, just to be fair, but the rest of him balks at saying even that much. There's something a lot more important that he should probably make clear, anyway.]
And although I can't offer professional help in this situation, if you ever want to talk or are just having one of the more difficult days and need a reminder that you're not alone, you can always message me.
[Because feeling alone is all too common, especially when you've gone through something that none of your friends understand or, alternatively, understand but can't bring themselves to talk about either.]
[Text]
Thank you. I don't know if I will. It's hard for me.
[He's being honest, which is significant. In most cases, Adam would politely thank someone for an offer like that and then distance himself and never speak of it again. It's easier that way. He's doing better than he once was, and he has people he trusts here, but even so it isn't easy for him to reach out for help when he needs it. That's always been difficult.]
But - I really appreciate it.
[Even if accepting an offer like that is difficult for Adam, he can appreciate what it takes to offer it, especially for someone who's been through something similar. He's sure this can't be easy for Lance to talk about, he's sure it must be bringing up bad memories. They'll probably both sleep poorly tonight. So it means something that he's offering anyway.]
It seems stupid to offer the same. I'm not really in any position to help anyone, I don't think. But I can listen if you ever need to talk.
[It is the least he can offer. And, in some ways, he's curious. It's an awful subject for them both, but Adam has never really spoken to someone who's been through anything similar. He has friends with trauma (pretty much all of them, here and at home), but nothing like what he grew up with.]
[Text]
And, of course, there's the matter of that even though it'd be good for them both in the long run, in the short term bringing everything back up--for themselves, and for each other--is a real concern. Giving them both a little time to think over things is probably for the best.]
It isn't stupid, and thank you. I can't say I'm sure I'll take you up on it either, but maybe in the future.
[And just knowing the option is there means a lot.
But this conversation has been a lot more mentally and emotionally exhausting than he expected, and he imagines it's the same for Adam, so this seems like a good place to leave things for now.]
I should let you get back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted you.
[Text]
[It doesn't really matter if that's true or not - Adam thinks that right now they both want an easy exit. It's not that this conversation was bad, it's not that he doesn't like Lance or even that he doesn't trust him. It's just - a lot. A lot of personal stuff, and Adam thinks it's probably the same for both of them.
It isn't easy to talk about these things. It isn't easy to admit what has happened, and it isn't easy to sympathize. Maybe it should be, but Adam doesn't think that kind of thing is ever effortless.
Despite that, simply being acknowledged helps in a strange way. Adam went through most of his life dealing with things on his own, focusing all his energy on survival, and even when he found people who did care for him, they didn't come from the same place. In some ways, it was impossible for them to understand, no matter how much they were there for him. This is different.
Different, but a lot to deal with, especially for Adam, who's only recently removed from the situation. He probably ought to see a therapist, someday, but that isn't an option here and likely won't be anytime soon at home. So he copes however he can. It usually works out.]
Thank you.
[Text]
But even though that isn't an option, there are other ways to help, and hopefully that'll be possible at some point in the future. Right now, though, he's glad Adam seems to understand the need to bow out of the conversation.]
I'll talk to you later then, and let me know if you need anything, alright?
[Related to this, or otherwise; maybe it's just holdover from the event, or because of this conversation, or both, but he feels like he should look out for Adam as much as he can.]
[Text]
[In another context it might feel odd to say that - and truthfully, it does a bit here, too. Lance is an adult, he seems to have his life together, he seems competent and intelligent. Adam may be technically an adult - he certainly passed his twentieth birthday a few months back, if his reckoning of time here is right - but he rarely feels like one.
In reality, of course, he is quite a bit more mature than many his age. He's had to deal with more than his share of difficulties, and most of it all on his own. Until recently, anyway. So he supposes it isn't so odd to offer what help he can give in return, whether it ends up being something about the city or something else entirely. He can do that much, at least. Make himself useful.]
Take care.