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For as long as Shane had known her, Marnie had never been concerned for the state of someone’s life, but now she wouldn’t leave him the *fuck* alone and it was starting to get frustrating. She had gone as far as trying to get Emily to come and talk to him during one of his depressive episodes. Clearly, it didn’t work considering he was bundled up in dirty blankets in his room which was littered with boxes for premade food from Joja and beer cans. He himself was *far* from better, his skin damp and sticky from dirt, sweat and god knows what other substances, his gut now thicker than before and pudgy from inactivity, and he was dressed in only dirty sweatpants. It was clear that he hadn’t showered or even changed out of his sweatpants in a while. Ever since he had been fired from Joja, his life was not going in the right direction. It wasn’t before sure- Shane had hit rock bottom years ago, but now that he was unemployed? He grabbed a shovel and started to dig himself into an even deeper hole of depression and suicidal thoughts. Marnie didn’t even bother to come into his room anymore or check on him and Jaz always knocked at his door, only to get pushed away verbally.
Shane really did feel like shit when he did this but he couldn’t help himself. He was stuck in this loop of being too overwhelmed and guilty to fix himself but becoming more overwhelmed and guilty that he couldn’t fix himself. It was to the point where he hadn’t even spoken in a week now and he hadn’t gotten out of bed for more than food and the bathroom for even longer than that. He didn’t even know what day it was if he was being honest with himself. Instead, he was just sitting in his bed which slowly became the only sort of comfort in his life, crying for a reason he couldn’t remember and watching a rerun of an old sitcom... Yoba.. he couldn’t even recall the name of the show he was watching.
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