|inkonstage (inkonstage) wrote in repose,|
@ 2019-08-21 21:44:00
|Entry tags:||*log, hannah smith, marta flores|
[Log: Marta and Hannah]
Who: Marta and Hannah
What: A visit
Where: Cedarview Recovery (Marta's rehab facility)
When: A few weeks after they talked on the forum and a few days after she's taken to the hospital for some tests
Warnings/Rating: Likely topics: drugs, mental illness/health, medical facility. Not locking to start, but will if needed.
Marta had never really considered how often she was around people that she knew until none of them were around. It had been weeks since she'd talked to anyone outside of doctors or staff or fellow patients, and while that added up to a fair amount of people, it wasn't quite the same as talking to someone she already knew... even if it was someone she barely knew. There was something different about having to see a reflection of her own broken self in the people around her. She wasn't a prisoner, not technically, but there were moments when she wondered if this was what it would've felt like to be locked behind bars instead of fancy, soothing-colored walls.
It didn't help that talking to people wasn't exactly what she was doing. Even before she'd been taken to the nearby hospital for tests, her doctor had given her a tablet to carry around (not hooked up to the internet, and with only a notepad program and solitaire loaded onto it). Her typing wasn't fast or accurate, but it was better than fighting to form words that were reluctant to cooperate. It was already starting to get better, and her doctor had told her that they were going to have someone to "work with her" on it (and the shaking twitch of her fingers that made doing even some basic things difficult), but it was still enough of a struggle that a lot of times she just stayed quiet.
The silence provided her too much time alone in her head, though. Too much time to think and no way to get it out with any accuracy or ease. As time passed, she added more activities to her daily schedule, but there were still a lot of hours in the day. She had a journal and some pencils (the same as most patients received), but could only use them for a certain amount of time before it just got too frustrating. So her thoughts stalled in her mind, skipping around people that hadn't replied to her reaching out, people that had. She thought about Travis and Hannah and Si... and Seven and Sawyer. She even thought about Tommy, the vague memory she had of him dropping her off at the facility - saying something to her, but it was lost in the haze that covered those few days.
And then there were the moments that went a darker way. Her doctor had said it was normal for people in recovery to have those moments, but with all of her other history, that Marta was probably prone to them even without putting extra (unwanted) chemicals in her body. It was just another thing to add to the list of ways she was fucked up. At least that's what it felt like to her.
But they'd finally found some medication that didn't give her hallucinations or screaming night terrors or make her scratch away at her own skin. It also didn't take away all the shit she didn't want to feel, which was sort of the point - it's what had landed her there in the first place. So she spent a lot of time sitting on her own - thinking, feeling, going over 'homework' from her doctor, trying to find some sense of stability. And being lonely, which is where her current train of thought had originally started. Being lonely, thinking about things while she sat alone in one of the common rooms.
Her journal and tablet were set on the table next to her as she curled herself up into one of the many overstuffed armchairs, feeling like she almost disappeared into its cushions. This one was situated near the window so that she could sit in the sun and look outside. The windows opened out onto the side of the property, a wide expanse of trimmed green grass dotted by thick ponds of flowers. The ones near the floor-to-ceiling windows were (as she'd described to Hannah) pink with spiky-looking centers. They'd been blooming since she arrived, and were apparently a favorite of bees, butterflies, and the occasional small bird. She knew that if she fell asleep, someone would wake her up. But if she was looking at the flowers and watching the tiny bit of wildlife, she was mostly left alone.