Jumping at Shadows, Alexis

[Alexis C.]

Alexis scoffed. “That was the grounding technique. Take deep breaths, remind myself it isn’t real, listen to music if it’s available. They tried to get me to cuddle with animals or family. It usually ended with me trying to strangle them.” And considering she had always been very anti-animal abuse, that had been frightening for all involved. No one knew what to do with that Alexis. “Describe the voices?” She almost screamed it at him. The last time someone had asked her to describe the voices, she had been viciously mocked. “I’d rather not. I mean, I will if you think it will help, but…last time it ended in violence. I had to be restrained by three staff members at Oak Ridge. Otherwise I would’ve jumped across the table and killed the doctor who asked.”

“You’re assuming most people in here have two brain cells,” she replied snarkily. Admittedly, once she and Troy had realized no one really cared what they did in their off hours, they hadn’t really tried to hide it. They were always totally professional about it, but Dr. Kenneth was right. Anyone with any semblance of intelligence would be able to see how they looked at each other. And Alex certainly had more than just a mere semblance. He had known which buttons to push exactly in the showers that day. And her reactions gave him all the ammo he needed to act on that knowledge. God, she was an idiot! “Yeah, I figured that out,” Alexis responded in a tone nearly as dry as his own.

She chuckled. “Well, I did tend to panic when I slipped into an episode. But, still doesn’t really explain deep breathing as a grounding exercise.” They certainly weren’t helpful. In fact, they tended to make her more frustrated. “And I appreciate you not trying to give me more meds. Some adjustment might be in order, but I’m not qualified to make those decisions.” But she didn’t want to become a zombie again. So doped up she hardly knew her own name. Could barely wake up in the morning. “I know that’s what you’re here for, Dr. Kenneth. I’m just not sure if you’ll be able to do it.” She sighed. “I’m not sure anyone can.”

[Dr. Kenneth]

Scott frowned slightly at that. It sounded as if her previous doctor had been diagnosing post-traumatic, not dissociative episodes. Granted they were similar in some aspects such as the blanking out, but they were different all the same. "Unless the music happens to be very jarring such as grunge, or the kind that the person absolutely loathes, that rarely ever works." Scott said with a neutral expression. As far as he was concerned grunge and his least favorite genre were one and the same. Actually, most of the grounding techniques differed from person to person, so it was usually a bit of trial and error before finding one that works. "Have you pinpointed the triggers?" His lips twisted at the mere thought of cuddling with anything family, animal, or otherwise. "Don't suppose you've tried cuddling with Troy?" He asked idly. He really didn't want to go in that direction.

Well, clearly that wasn't something she wanted to do. Judging from her reaction to being asked, she had been asked that before and clearly that hadn't gone over well. "I will try not to warrant such a reaction." He responded in a dry tone. "Are they paranoid whispers, the kind telling you to murder people, or something along those lines?" He was trying to figure out how severe they were before deciding the best way of treating them.

He paused a moment. She had a very good point there since he'd come to the conclusion that apart from the occasional person, most were lazy, idiots, or just plain incompetent, or a combination of the three.

"Deep breathing doesn't work all that well. It just tends to make people more frustrated when it fails to actually work." Scott agreed. He had noted that on his own quite a number of times in uni and during his residency, especially when he was required to talk to people who obviously knew what they were doing. It was a wonder his heart hadn't given out from high blood pressure during his residency alone. "Generally speaking, I consider drugs a last resort unless they're absolutely necessary. Given that you haven't attacked anyone during one of your episodes, I don't think you need them unless you start to go into an episode out in public, or while doing something that may be hazardous to your health whilst in one." Scott explained blandly as he eyed her.

[Alexis C.]

“I’m afraid not. There was some grunge; it was the ninety’s after all. But I didn’t loathe it. I loved it. I connected with it and sang my goddamn heart out. It would usually keep me distracted long enough to get somewhere safe, but eventually it stopped working.” It was like containing an explosion. “Of course, when they’re trying to treat you for three different types of dissociative episodes because they weren’t sure how to categorize you…,” she shrugged. It was one of the many hazards of seeing so many psychiatrists. Many of whom were so overtaxed they could hardly remember who you were without looking at your file.

“Yeah, for the most part,” she sighed. “They used to be pretty simple. Things like an older man invading my space, loud crowds, disrupting my sense of order by moving something out of its designated spot. Now it’s more complex or at least harder to control. Troy isn’t home on time, I start to panic. He doesn’t pick up his phone or leaves it at my house, I get paranoid. I think about Alex, hear about Alex, see Alex…,” a heavy sigh escaped, “I keep thinking I see him outside the hospital. And every time my instinct is to ki-to get to him before he can get to me. To us.” She knew it was mostly paranoid ramblings, but she also knew she needed help. The best way to get that was to be honest. And paranoia, as long as she didn’t act on it, couldn’t get her in trouble. “Trust me, especially when I’m upset because I can’t find him, he nearly gets squeezed to death.”

Alexis rolled her eyes. He really wasn’t going to let this go, but she supposed she had nothing to lose. Especially this far in. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I suppose that’s a fair description, though I’m not sure it’s that simple. They vary from little whispers in the back of my head, to full blown full body visuals, to good old fashioned taking control of me. There were two when I was young, Liza and Damon. Both are crazed, sadistic, and heartless. But Liza cares about protecting me and mine. Damon is just…rage. Demonic. Of course, he’s a demon. But lately it’s just Liza.” It wasn’t hard to guess why. Alexis didn’t need blind rage. She needed more focused rage. Focused on protection. “She thinks we should kill Alex before he can kill Troy.” Alexis tended to agree.

“I appreciate your confidence in me, Dr. Kenneth. I seem to have it under control, right now.” She just hoped she was able to maintain it.

[Dr. Kenneth]

"Have you tried listening to the kind of music that makes you want to tear your ears off to get away from it?" Scott asked politely. For him, that would be the grunge genre, although country came in a close second. He had no idea how Americans could stand the horrible accents, but it was apparently really popular in the South. He was going to stick to his orchestral pieces, thankyouverymuch. "Ah yes, they were diagnosing you with different things, weren't they." Her file was a mess. He was surprised she would even consider going willing to a session considering how many times she'd been misdiagnosed and probably drugged out of her mind with the corresponding drugs. Why some doctors thought they were the answer to everything was beyond him. It was a wonder that Alexis wasn't a drug addict, all things considered.

Hmm, that was not good if she was starting to see Alex everywhere. Chances were, she knew very well where he was, however, so it was probably paranoia. Understandable, in this particular instance. "Right, I'm not going to treat you like a blithering moron by telling you that you should remind yourself that he's still here." Because she doubtlessly already did that whenever she thought she saw him, and he had no intention of insulting her intelligence. That was going to be a tricky thing to deal with, especially since her fears might have been justified, and obviously the methods to calm her down were not working very well.

"I'm assuming that at some point or another, you were prescribed antipsychotics. How much and how well did they work?" He found himself agreeing with Liza in this instance. While he didn't generally agree with the idea of capital punishment, he found that he could think of nothing better for Alex. It was disgusting that he had been permitted to have free reign in a rehab where actual patients were sent to.

[Alexis C.]

“I’m afraid there is no music that makes me want to tear my ears off. Well, there is that new Beiber kid, but that’s more like murderous rampage music. I might hate him more than Alex. However, just to be clear, I do not have any unusual homicidal urges to kill him. Just my normal, planless homicidal urges. Like the ones I had before I went totally wacko.” She frowned. “Again.”

Alexis laughed. “If I had a dollar for every diagnosis I’ve been given and every drug I’ve been on, I could probably buy this place.” She couldn’t even keep track of everything she’d had. Her file was probably thicker than the entire Gor series and made less sense than Tarnsman of Gor if you haven’t read the rest of the series. She probably would have given up if it hadn’t been for the fact she’d been assured she couldn’t function without help. And she wasn’t sure they were wrong. Certainly she needed someone unbiased to talk to. Therapists were good for that.

“I appreciate you not patronizing me, Dr. Kenneth. I always know he’s here, but I know he’s incredibly clever too. It feeds my paranoia. I can convince myself of most anything, if I try hard enough. Well, except that Alex isn’t the fucking mailman.” Or the teller at the bank or the cashier at the grocery store or even the woman in the business suit at Doc’s. Holy fuck, she was messed up. But, then again, she knew that already.

Alexis laughed. “I honestly couldn’t tell you what all I was on or how much. I figured it was probably in my file.” She shrugged. “It was just so much and so long ago. I haven’t been on any actual anti-psychotics for a long time. Since I was, like, fourteen. And a lot of it is a blur. A crazy, foggy, blur.” She hated the meds more than she hated to be nuts. “And the only reason they worked at all was because I was too sedated to function. Normally or otherwise.”

[Dr. Kenneth]

His lips twitched slightly at that. "I gather that anyone with any music sense gets homicidal urges when listening to him." Scott pointed out. He couldn't understand the infatuation with the singer since he sounded like a bloody girl most of the time and since his lyrics were reminiscent of primary schoolers. "And I didn't think you were the sort to actually feel real homicidal urges towards him." She seemed like a reasonably sensible person, so he didn't think she was the sort to want to murder everyone whom she didn't like for one reason or another.

Buy the place? That was a lot of drugs. What had they been thinking. Scott found that he didn't think much of her previous doctors. "I have no intention of doing that, prescribing you more drugs than you actually need." Fortunately, the one and only doctor he'd ever had had been reasonably good at what he did, so the only thing Scott had ever had to take was anti-depressants.

Scott supposed he was rather clever; he had managed to go unnoticed for nearly five years, after all. Beyond that, Scott hadn't really taken note about him. He had little interest in psychotic serial killers and was quite thankful he wasn't his doctor. He had no idea how he would have handled a man like that, but he was fairly sure he'd fail miserably at it. He had to wonder if his current doctor was any good at it. Scott had yet to meet Matt's replacement; hopefully he would be better at his job then Matt had been. "He seems like the sort who would probably love the fact that you're seeing him everywhere." He observed neutrally.

"So anti-psychotics don't work unless you're heavily sedated, which renders them pointless in any case. Good to know." He made a mental note to add that to her file, preferably in large red letters. They clearly weren't helping her so there was really no point in continuing to prescribe them.

[Alexis C.]

“Most doctors don’t give me that much credit,” Alexis stated flatly. She knew not all psych doctors were like the quacks she’d seen over the years. In fact she’d even seen a few of the good ones in her time. And she had to admit, overall, the doctors at SPP were very good at their jobs. But Dr. Kenneth was the best she’d had here personally. He didn’t treat her like her station should make her above the indecency of being insane or above being treated. He treated her like any other patient. She respected. If she ever became a patient, she hoped he would stay her doctor.

“I actually managed to convince my last doctor, Doctor Rousseau, to get me off most of my psych meds. Of course, that was before I went all crazy with the in-shower self-defense.” Alexis chuckled wryly. “After that he was convinced it had been because I’d gone off my meds or something. I managed to convince him otherwise, but he still put me on a booster for my current mood stabilizer. He also put me on an anti-anxiety pill to be used as needed.” The fact that she had come close several times to not only exceeding the daily limit but damn near overdosing was something she chose to omit.

Alexis burst into nervous laughter. “You catch on quick, doc. He gets off on fear. Well, that’s not true actually. I’m pretty sure it’s Antimony that gets off on fear. He’d just find it amusing that he had that much power over me.” Her laughter turned into a growl. “NO! That man, that psychotic monster does not have any power over me,” she seethed. “I won’t let him, Dr. Kenneth. I have been through too fucking much too let some fucking psycho with an ego trip bring me down now. I won’t give him the satisfaction.” Tears welled in her eyes and her voice cracked. “I just won’t.”