Re: NM: Cat & Leena
"I guess." It wasn't reassuring, and neither was the roll of her shoulders. Some days she felt differently, steadier, but then she'd have therapy and it'd all be shit again. But before here, she'd always taken them. "I've had them since Prague -- since I found my ID and passport." The one that said her name was Leena, not Helena and no matter how close it was, it was still the name she knew herself by. "But I've never gone off them, so I don't know if this is better or worse."
Though she suspected she was far better than she would be if she'd gone off them. She'd tried once for a couple of days, but it felt like approaching doom and that's when she'd gone to get more. The feeling had faded, much like her hunger eventually. "Everything tasted funny, and if I ate too much, even when it wasn't too much, it made my stomach hurt. So it was better just to avoid food when I could."
She made a quiet sound at reading people. Her ability there was to establish everyone as an enemy until they proved they weren't, which went a long way for survival and ensured most of her encounters with other people were in the single digits. Very few people ever got a second meeting -- she and others were better off at a distance -- but it didn't always used to be so. She frowned a little before the comment about Degas or Monet caught her attention. "I don't know who Degas is," she admitted, and offered up a small smile in return for the admission.
"I--" and here she stuttered, eyes dodging down the hallway and then back to Cat. It was the one point of contention she had about being here, and every night it was the same thing. She tried to sleep in that bed, she tried but it was too soft, and she could hear the air in the vents and the sheets rustling every time she moved, and every night she ended up on the floor, sometimes out on the little porch every room had and slept there. They'd tried giving her meds to help her sleep, but that had only locked her in nightmares, and she'd woken up crying and screaming and that had been the end of that. "No, no feather topper. My room mate is Carol, she's fine."
The entire conversation about the mattress dodged, she started down the hallway again toward the back side of the center. "I don't -- I don't know." So much was going on back in Repose and she was almost glad she wasn't there. "I wished Stephanie a congrats on her marriage, but it was weird and uncomfortable and I bailed on the convo."