InsaneJournal

Who: Peeta Mellark and Anatoly Sergievsky
What: Therapy session
Where: Anatoly’s office
When: Backdated to mid-March
Rating: PG - talk of PTSD and death
Status: Complete, when posted


The breaking point had finally come. His dreams had finally gotten him through the entirety of the Hunger Games and all the deaths that had come and his and Katniss’ hands. That was the worst part of death was never being able to wash it off your hands if you were in any way involved. Sure, he had survived until the end with Katniss by his side, but he had lost a leg in the process, and more importantly, a sense of self. He had come to terms with killing innocents when he went overseas for war, but even then he couldn’t shake the terror it gave him at night.

He had come back to PTSD and thought that he managed to get it under control enough to go along with his daily life, but his dreams had just brought it forth once again. And this time it was worse because the people that died were teenagers. There was something about killing people your own age that made it that much worse. It had been basic survival at it’s core, but Peeta still hated what he had to do to survive. He was almost tempted to turn to Annie’s attempt at survival by staying awake for days on end, but he knew that would never help in the end.

So, he had been passed along a gentleman’s name and he made arrangements with the receptionist for their first meeting. It had been a while since he talked to a therapist, but he was hoping this one would do the trick. He parked his car and made his way into the office, checking in with the receptionist before taking a seat on the couch and grabbing a magazine off the side table.

Anatoly had begun his own journey through dreams, but his had barely begun. Though he already saw parallels between his dreams and the life he was currently living. His sister in his dreams had become ill and died, prompting him to become a doctor. In this life, his sister had suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder and prompted him to become a therapist. He wasn’t always the best at talking about himself, but he was very good at listening to others and helping them through their own problems.

He’d seen Peeta’s name on his daily appointment list. He hadn’t heard of him before, but he preferred it that way. He liked to hear about people from their own perspective. So once the time came for the appointment, Anatoly stepped out of his office and went to the waiting room.

“Peeta Mellark,” he said. There were only a few people in the waiting room. By deduction he guessed which one Peeta was, largely because the others he recognized as regulars for the other two doctors in the practice.

Peeta’s head lifted up when he heard his name and he quickly stood up. It didn’t take long to cross over to the man and he held his hand out with a friendly smile, “You must be Mr. Sergievsky, it’s really great to meet you and I’m glad I was able to make an appointment.” Oh yes, Peeta was that type that tended to ramble a little bit when he was nervous. A new shrink definitely made him nervous, but the guy looked friendly enough and wouldn’t completely judge him for the craziness he was about to reveal.

Anatoly shook Peeta’s hand, returning the friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Peeta.” Oh he didn’t mind the rambling. Anatoly tended to do that himself, and he’d worked with some patients that tended to do that as well so it didn’t bother him in the least. “Right this way,” he said and led the way into his office. It was an inviting office, an over-stuffed, comfy looking arm chair with a matching couch and another matching arm chair were surrounding three sides of a coffee table. There were a few fiddling type things on the table, such a Rubix’s cube and other similar style puzzles. Sometimes it helped people to fiddle with things while they talked.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He indicated the chairs and couch, allowing Peeta the choice of where he wanted to sit. While Anatoly did have a desk in his office, he hated sitting behind it during sessions. It was so impersonal to him, he’d rather be on the same level as the person he was talking with.

The room seemed comfortable, lived in, and certainly not a sterile environment like the therapist he had first seen after the accident. He selected the armchair to sit in and crossed his leg over the other, his hand resting on his ankle, and watched Anatoly as he took him up on the offer to get comfortable. He was certainly tempted by the things on the coffee table, but that would be something he only gave into if he really started to get caught up in his memories. There was a reason he liked to work with his hands.

“So, where do you want to start? I can give you a rundown of my life and what brings me here today. Or else just start right into it,” Peeta never really knew where to start, but he certainly wanted to get right into it and figure things out, “Not really sure if all therapists are the same or not in how they like to start a first session.”

Anatoly took a seat in the other armchair, having grabbed a notebook and pen. Stereotypical, perhaps, but he far preferred taking notes to recording his sessions. He was more engaged when he was making notes and noting what seemed to be large issues and which ones were smaller, so on and so forth.

“You may do whichever you are most comfortable with. Though if the reason you are here stems from your early life, it may help for me to learn of that. However, I am more interested in your concerns and what you see as the big issues.” Anatoly always liked leaving the choice up to his patient as much as possible. He had the last say, of course, if he felt there were pertinent things that were being avoided or the like. But to begin with, there was no need to make Peeta more anxious than he needed to be.

“It only stems slightly. Well, I think it’s only slightly. We’ll see what you think, right? Anyway, grew up in Santa Monica with my dad, mom, and two older brothers. Dad was a bit like Gordon Ramsey because he was constantly yelling at us at his restaurant. I wanted to go into baking and he didn’t like that. So I went into the military to get away from him and did a few tours in Afghanistan. So, I’ve got PTSD from my time there and that was only made worse when a mine exploded and I lost my leg,” Peeta really didn’t mind talking about part of his life. It was expected that he would have some hardship coming to terms with what happened. He had accepted most of it, but now these new dreams were making it harder to deal.

“So, now things have gotten worse thanks to some other things. This is when you begin to speculate that I’m entirely crazy. There’s this network called Valar and when you’re a part of it suddenly you start to have dreams of these memories from another life. My other life isn’t that great. I grew up in this dystopian world where we’re divided up into Districts and the Capitol runs everything with an iron fist. They came up with this idea of ‘reaping’ one boy and one girl from each District and then they all fight to the death until one survives. It’s a way for them to prove their authority and guess who got to participate,” Peeta drawled the last part with an annoyed look on his face. God he really hated Panem.

Luckily for Peeta, Anatoly was at least aware enough of media to know the Gordon Ramsey reference. Though he couldn’t quite imagine that was such a good upbringing there. After all, having a parent that yelled like that didn’t make for a completely good atmosphere. However, Anatoly’s interest was more piqued by the military background Peeta had. He was also surprised about the admission to Peeta losing his leg, but he could certainly see where PTSD would stem from tours of duty as well as the loss of a limb in such a violent way.

And again playing to Peeta’s favor, Anatoly had indeed found the Valar network, so he listened carefully to the life Peeta described. It certainly sounded like a terrible life. Once Peeta paused long enough for him to respond, Anatoly gave him a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, I do not think you’re crazy. I’ve found that Valar network, so I am aware of the various dreams people have been discussing.” Anatoly himself hadn’t had a dream yet so he wasn’t certain what his dream life would be like, if one did start. Though his smile quickly retreated when he turned back to the serious subject Peeta had left off with. “What happened when you were brought to participate?”

“Well, they immediately take you away, you get a brief goodbye with your family. My mother made a comment about the girl who was chosen potentially being a winner. No one expects me to win, not even myself. So, after that we’re boarded on a train, meet the man who becomes our mentor, and go to the Capitol to get to training. We meet all the people we’ll have to fight against and there’s always drama going on with that. We are graded on how we’ll do because this is a televised event and people like to take bets on who will win. And then the games begin,” Peeta hated how much the people in the Capitol enjoyed watching the Games. It was horrible and just the memories made him want to shiver in disgust.

It was repulsive and horrifying all at once as Anatoly listened to Peeta explain the Games to him. Though he had to say, the whole training thing was unexpected. He’d thought that it would’ve been more that people were chosen, taken and sent out to fight as it was.

“That almost sounds the gladiators of ancient Rome,” Anatoly commented. He wasn’t trying to undermine what Peeta had said, more trying to give a metaphor so he could better grasp the idea. After all, Anatoly had no experience with such a turn of events in this life except what he’d learned about history.

“Oh, it certainly does. But I guess that’s just a constant in history where people love watching others fight to the death. There’s just something about violence that people enjoy as long as it’s not them,” Peeta fully agreed with Anatoly’s assessment of what the Games were like, “They set up this giant Cornucopia filled with weapons right in the middle of where we appeared in the arena. I ran away because our mentor said it was a blood bath, which it really was. There’s canons that go off every time someone dies and they also show pictures every evening of who died as a recap every evening. I teamed up with these group of people we call Careers because they spend time training to go into the Games and live for this.” God he absolutely hated the idea of Careers.

“Eventually they turned on me because they couldn’t kill Katniss, the girl from my District, and I was hurt. Katniss and I reunited when the Gamemakers declared that there could be two winners if they are from the same District. I almost died, she helped nurse me back to health, and we made it to the end with one other person left to kill. They sent these mutant dogs after us, we killed the other Victor, and then they told us that they were taking back that previous rule change. So instead of killing each other Katniss decided we should eat these poisonous berries and commit suicide, but of course that would leave them with no Victor, so they quickly backracked and declared us dual winners,” it was a lot to explain and Peeta felt a little exhausted after telling Anatoly everything because it was almost like reliving it all over again. Once he finished speaking he looked down at his hands that had been fiddling and then glanced back up to Anatoly.

There was definitely something to the human need for violent entertainment. Oh he’d learned several theories regarding that while going through his psychology courses. Though Anatoly himself didn’t put much more thought into it beyond the fact it tied into the primal instincts that still inherently existed within mankind. So he listened as Peeta explained things, noticing how his hands had begun fiddling. Clearly this particular part of the story upset him, or at the very least put him on edge.

“So in a way, you and Katniss went against the rules, as it were, to the point where those in charge had to continuously try to manipulate the outcome to what they wanted?” Anatoly had a feeling this was only the beginning, but he could see where things would trouble Peeta. And first, he’d get as much of the story as Peeta knew, or was willing to share before he became too upset, and then he’d go back and start breaking things into smaller topics. After all, it was better he have the big picture before he started taking things apart to try and help Peeta work through his issues.

“Basically. They hate us. I know the President does. I could see it in his face as he crowned us. Although, I would have to guess that he hates Katniss more since she was the one that made all the decisions. I was just along for the wild ride,” Peeta would never ever take credit for the things Katniss did. She was incredibly smart and better at playing the Game than either of them thought she would be. He just went along with the crowd and thankfully Katniss put her trust in him and they both survived.

Anatoly gave a bit of a nod. He could also see where some aspects of these dreams may play into Peeta’s PTSD. The parallels were certainly there, at any rate. “Do you know what happens after a winner is crowned? Are you absolved from having to compete again?” Perhaps it was important, perhaps it wasn’t, but it could also stem to open conversation as well. The world of Peeta’s dreams was obviously a dark, dystopian place that was different from this world. Perhaps dramatically so in some respects.

“I don’t think so. I haven’t dreamt much past losing my leg in the dream, from an injury earlier in the game, and being sent back to District 12. We’re supposed to live a life of luxury once we get back there, but we also have to go on a tour of all the other Districts and pay respect to the families of the ones that were lost,” he really wasn’t looking forward to going into those parts of the dreams. There was never a contingency of absolution and he got an eerie sense just thinking about it, “And we become mentors to future Victors.”

That at least gave Anatoly somewhere to start with knowing how far Peeta had dreamed thus far. And having lost his leg in the dreams as well as in his waking life. If Anatoly were any other psychologist that wasn’t keyed into the dreams, he’d probably think Peeta’s waking life was replaying in a twisted way in his dreams, but that definitely wasn’t the case here.

“No doubt paying respect to the families is going to be a very difficult task.” Anatoly said with sympathy. Though he didn’t leave his statement there. “There does seem to be some parallels between your dream life and your waking life. Would it be correct of me to say that some things you have been dreaming of are causing you some problems with your PTSD from your military experience?” Best he hear it from Peeta first before he went about delving into things.

“I think it will be. Katniss became close to a very young Victor and it was incredibly hard on her. And yeah, the parallels are kind of freaking me out a little bit. And that would be correct. I thought I had a decent handle on my PTSD. It wasn’t bothering as much as it was right after the accident, but now experiencing this. It’s just worse. I don’t like the fact that I have blood on my hands, it’s inevitable when you’re in the military, but hurting innocents in dreams or waking life is hard to cope with,” Peeta didn’t understand how Haymitch could think that the military was nothing like the Games. He did things that he wasn’t proud of, but in both instances, it was for survival. But now things in his mind were getting worse and he was constantly bombarded with the images.

“Having innocent blood on your hands should never be easy to handle.” And now they could simply jump into something that could hopefully help Peeta. “Before you ever had these dreams, what would you do to help you handle your PTSD when you’d relive those moments?” Anatoly had a few ideas of what to suggest for Peeta, but they could already be things Peeta had done and they didn’t need to be unnecessarily redundant.

“Exercise, medicine,” he rattled off a few names of the various medicines doctors had prescribed him in the past, “painting, baking, cooking. Just things that I knew I was good at so I could lose myself into the actions and let the memories subside. I’m still trying to do those things, but there’s just something about these Dreams. It’s like they want to push themselves into the forefront of your mind.”

Anatoly made note of the medicines Peeta had taken in the past, as well as the things he did to try and work through the anxiety of the memories. “How effective were the medications for you?” He was thinking of prescribing an anti-anxiety medication, but only if it had been effective for Peeta in the past. “I do prefer that you do your best to handle your anxiety through means other than with medication. However, there are always times when the anxiety is too great to handle without the medication. Though as you describe it, these Dreams seem to want to take over your conscious thoughts as opposed to fading away like normal dreams and even memories?”

“I think they were fairly effective. I got a little jittery around them and didn’t do well attempting to sleep on some of them, but there’s always side effects with them. And yeah, these Dreams just seem so fresh and raw to me that they tend to overcome regular thoughts. That’s kind of how it worked when I got out of the military. I’d be just minding my own business and then I’d suddenly be hit with a memory that I had to deal with. I think over time they’ll fade like normal, but right now they’re constant and I don’t think the Dreams are going away anytime soon,” He just had to ride it out and hope that they did fade once he was finished with his Dreams.

“I can prescribe you an anti-anxiety medication if you would like. Of course there’s always side effects, unfortunately.” As it was, Anatoly didn’t quite like medicating without need for the sole reason of side effects, but sometimes one simply had to deal with it. “Hopefully the Dreams shall eventually fade as well, but given you have said you had your PTSD from your waking life relatively handled, perhaps our focus should be on discussing your Dreams. And, of course, handling your PTSD as it comes up. I would like you to continue managing your anxiety the way you have in the past, do things you know you can lose yourself and relax. I would also like you to keep a written account of both your Dreams and what occurs when you have a Dream or memory come up. Sometimes keeping detailed records are able to help, and they will also allow me to better understand you as well.”

“I think I can handle that. It all seems very reasonable and doable. I just don’t want this to become even worse and affect my life in a negative way. I’m glad that I managed to come here and speak to you. At least you understand the idea of Dreaming and aren’t writing me off as completely crazy. I think that understand the dreams would be a good idea and I’ll make sure to write as much information as I can about when the Dreams do happen. It’s usually when I’m sleeping, but sometimes I’ll feel like it’s memories of the dreams. I’ll write that down as well,” at least it was something he could do in hopes that it would help him in the long run. Anatoly seemed to have a good handle on how to help him out and he was thankful he found him to talk to.

“You are very welcome. I will never write off anything you say to me, for the record. One never knows what could become relevant down the line, after all.” Sometimes people did say something that they didn’t understand when they said it, but later on it suddenly made sense. He smiled gently. “Good. It is also my hope that if you write down your Dreams, it may help you better filter through them. Writing will at least give you something to focus on while sifting through the events of the Dream. And do not be afraid to use the same technique with your regular dreams if you feel anything could be relevant.” With the parallels between Peeta’s day-to-day life and his Dream life, Anatoly was suspecting something could come out in his normal dreams as well.

“I think that will work well. I don’t think I’ll really forget any details at all about my dreams since they’re pretty deeply engraved in my head afterwards, but it may be good to just see it out on paper. I know things are going to just keep getting worse potentially, so just being able to sort things out may help. Thank you so much for being able to fit me in. I really do appreciate it. I mean, I know it’s your job and all, but you seem really easy to talk to and that puts me at ease. I’ve had some weird therapists in the past,” he hated the one older gentleman that just gave him a dead eyed stare and always sounded like every breath might be his last. Anatoly at least seemed sensible and had a deep caring nature.

The compliment brought both a sense of pride and a sense of humility. It was at least confirmation that he was doing something right. “You’re welcome, Peeta. I wish to help you as much as I am able to. And I understand about strange therapists, I have known several myself.” Through his dealings with visiting his sister, his schooling and in his professional life. “As our time is getting short, I think this would be a good ending to the first session, and we should get another appointment scheduled for you.”

“I think it’s a good ending as well. And yes, let’s set something up. I’m not sure how often you think I need to meet with you, but I’m open to suggestion,” Peeta didn’t mind if they had to meet often because he was willing to take the time if it meant that he had a handle on what was going on with his life. He stood up out of his chair and waited for Anatoly to offer a suggestion of meeting frequency and then getting the next meeting scheduled. It was the first time in a while that Peeta felt like he wasn’t drowning in his issues.

“Excellent,” he said as he stood up. “I would suggest once a week. Though if you find yourself needing more time per week or need more space between them, we certainly can adjust accordingly. Do not hesitate to call and schedule an earlier appointment if you feel you need it.” Anatoly always did ensure he had a workable block of time for any emergency cases that would come up. That was the thing about mental health, it tended to laugh at maintaining a rigid schedule regardless of anyone’s best efforts. With the suggestion made, he headed out to the secretary with Peeta and got another appointment set up. After a friendly farewell, Anatoly returned to his office to make a few notes before setting Peeta’s file aside. Anatoly had a good feeling about Peeta, and whatever storm may come as a result of his Dreams and his PTSD, Anatoly had faith that Peeta would be able to get through it. He would make certain of that.