Chapter Text
Group Name Edited: Everybody
Ilya: Shane worst group name ever.
Shane: It’s everybody.
Rose: Define everybody.
Shane: You know. Everybody. It’s like the two angels groups but all of us are in them.
Mom: It’s about time. I was having trouble keeping track of which group I was in and whose back we were talking behind.
Mom: Also, I loved the video. Very sincere.
Hayden: Yeah. I don’t understand why your team would start a rumor you were buried in the basement, though.
Shane: I don’t think they were being serious. I think the internet just did what the internet does.
Ilya: Especially when it is us. Think of worst case. Good. Now think of something worse than that.
Jackie: You know? That’s fair.
Rose: Video was cute. But now everyone knows you drive a boring car.
Shane: Not you too? It’s good for winter.
Ilya: Will be fine till we get minivan.
Dad: Do you have something to tell us?
Shane: We requested more information?
Hayden: Hot damn. And in 4-6 years you’ll have a child!
Shane: They say up to 4 years. Shouldn’t go beyond that.
Hayden: It will take you both another two to actually commit to the initial paperwork.
Ilya: This…is also fair.
Rose: I have to also say that Ilya’s photo of you with your blood vessels all blown out is just *chef kiss* You look like you’ve gotten up to no good. But you’re ok?
Shane: Yeah. Rough-ass night. But ok.
Ilya: Psych suggests hosing him down again if it gets that bad.
Shane: He had way too much fun with that.
Ilya: I was worried like hell.
Ilya: Only funny in retrospect.
Shane: Therapist says even though saying what I mean is anxiety-inducing, it’s probably more anxiety-inducing to not say what I feel. So be prepared for me to tell all of you fuckers (affectionate) to fuck off (affectionate) more.
Dad: Looking forward to it.
Shane: I’m sure.
Dad: Whatever you have to do. That panic attack sounded bad. Worse than bad.
Shane: Definitely worse than bad.
Mom: And how’s my favorite child doing?
Ilya: Goodish.
Mom: Excited to go back this week?
Ilya: Excitedish.
Rose: Saw the post about the PTSD. Super brave.
Ilya: Accountability. Means I have to work on it now.
Shane: We’re both getting our shit together. We made a pact.
Hayden: You never didn’t have your shit together. You realize that?
Shane: Do you know me?
Hayden: For serious.
Jackie: I think what he’s saying is you’ve gotten through everything as best as can be expected. It’s hard being graceful when the whole world is on fire. It doesn’t matter how you made it across the finish line, whether you’re limping or crawling, as long as you make it.
Mom: Or if you are carrying each other. Just get there.
Shane: Thanks.
Ilya: <3
Svetlana: Saw your video, You are both idiots. I love it.
Ilya: <3
***
Hi, Everyone!
It’s been a few days, but I’m still Shane Hollander, and I’m still suspended.
I know our video got passed around a lot thanks to SOME PEOPLE I THOUGHT WERE OUR FRIENDS (said lovingly) starting an internet rumor that my husband had buried me in our basement and had taken over my socials.
But if you saw that, and my husband’s tweets, you know we’re kind of going through some shit, unsurprisingly. We’re kind of limping each other around sometimes, when it comes to mental health, but we’re working on it, at least.
I’ve always had anxiety. Everything from tags in my clothing to multiple people talking at once to my own stupid thoughts would set it off to some degree. It really peaked this year after a multi-month press whirlwind across two countries and somehow managed to get worse from there. My last panic attack was so bad, I was literally hoping to pass out just so it would stop. Can’t panic if you’re unconscious, am I right?
It’s semi-known that my husband battles depression. After an incident I really can’t talk about due to the people and charges involved, he developed PTSD on top of that. Shocking, I know. I’m making a surprised Pikachu face right now, you just can’t see it. That’s how bad that incident was.
We’re doing all the things: medications, therapy, psychiatrist visits. None of this stuff works overnight, though. So we’ll just have to keep trekking through this rough time. In the meantime, we’re looking to expand the scope of the Irena Foundation’s efforts to support all mental illness and not just depression and depression-related issues.
So here’s today’s question(s): How’s your mental health doing right now? When did you realize there was a problem? What are you doing that’s good for you?
Sincerely,
Shane
***
Instagram video:
Shane and Ilya sitting in a car with a tan leather interior. It is evident Ilya is holding the phone via the reflection in Shane’s sunglasses. Their heads are pressed together.
“Hello, Shane Hollander, here, in this, uh, proof of life video?”
“I am Ilya Rozanov and I did not kill husband and bury in basement.”
Shane runs a hand through his hair. “Thanks to our alleged friends for starting that rumor. It means a lot. Anyways, Ilya’s back as soon as he’s medically cleared. I’m gone for a little longer…”
“Lot longer,” Ilya interrupts, but doesn’t elaborate.
“So, Ilya, what’ve we had going on for the last few weeks?”
“Nothing much.” Ilya sniffed. “That is lie. Many things happened.”
“Some of them are being prosecuted so we’re not allowed to talk about them. Some other’s are really embarrassing. Some are just sad. So I guess what we’re saying is…”
“Google works! You know how to use it. Pause this. We will wait.”
They pause for a few seconds, then bust up laughing.
“Anyways, what my talented and attractive spouse is saying is that we’re doing alright. Could be better. Could be worse.” Shane lifts his casted hand and waves hello.
Ilya follows suit. “Hands could be better. Brains could be better. We will get through.”
“Anyways, what he’s trying to say is we’re still kind of going through some sh-stuff but we’re working on it. And if you’re going through some stuff, that’s ok. We’ll put some links in our bios.”
“What my very attractive but less talented husband says is true. We will add all the links. We are going soon. Dinner at in-laws.” He looked down at his chest. “Have to go home and change shirt.” He pulls it up, showing off a chocolate stain.
“Again? Man. We need to buy stock in stain stick. Anyways, I guess we’re going now, and you can find us in all the places online, including my new blog over at Friends of Dorothy News.”
Ilya rolls his eyes. “Who ruined pillowcase with chocolate ice cream?”
“That was you, dude.”
“Oh.”
THE END