Irina Sokolova, Victor
It seemed obvious after I thought about it. Of course the Capitol would have a therapist who specialized in treating trauma in Victors. Three of them, actually. It was nice to have options. The first one was very nice but just wasn't a good fit for me. He was actually the one that suggested Dr. Pond would be better for me. And she was.
"You seem to be feeling better lately," Dr. Pond said, sitting across from me on a couch that looked like it could be in my mother's living room. I liked how her office felt like a normal house instead of a hospital or an office.
"I have been feeling better," I said. "Not all the time but... sometimes. It feels like I'm sad less but when I am sad it's really bad." It was hard to explain. Most days I actually felt pretty normal. Nowadays it was more like I had really short mini-depressions. They didn't even last a whole day- it was more like a few hours. Just a few hours or even a few minutes where I felt like I was back there again and everything had just happened five minutes ago.
"People say grief is like a box," Dr. Pond said. "Inside the box there's a button and a ball. The box is tumbling and when the ball hits the button you feel all the grief. As time goes by the button gets smaller. When that happens you don't get sad as much. But when it does hit it feels just as bad as before."
"So it will never get better?" I asked.
"It will never go away entirely," Dr. Pond said, leaning forward with a sympathetic expression. "But that doesn't mean it can't get better. That's what we've been working on all this time and you have gained a lot of relief."
"It sucks because I can't even wish I'd never met all my friends. It was worth all this sadness to have ever known them." My voice caught. "I just wish it wasn't like this."
"Let's focus on how it feels when you do have sad moments. Is there anything that makes you feel better?" Dr. Pond asked.
I thought about it. It was hard to straighten things out because there were so many different griefs. When I was sad about Skada it wasn't the same feeling as when I was sad about Lester.
"Sometimes I like to pile blankets on myself until they're really heavy," I said. "I kind of just like having something to ground me in general- maybe another person or just something physical."
"Hmmm..." Dr. Pond wrote something on her pad. The conversation continued and she gave me a lot to think about until we next met.
"I have some ideas for possible therapy programs that might help you," she said. "I'm going to make some calls and come back to this next week."
It didn't end up being next week, though Dr. Pond did update me, explaining that processing times were often lengthy for mental health programs. It was actually a month and a half later that something happened.
Before I walked into the room I thought it was going to be a normal session. I didn't expect to see a cat on Dr. Pond's couch next to her. It was a sunny shade of orange and bigger than a normal cat- sort of halfway between a house cat and a bobcat in size. It looked up at me with what struck me as a very kind expression.
"What's this?" I asked, sitting next to the cat and extending a hand. The cat sniffed my fingers and butted her head against my hand, her fur far softer than a normal cat's.
"She's an emotional support cat," Dr. Pond said.
"Oh, that's nice. She's visiting the building?" I asked. The cat stood up and did one of those long noodly stretches that make a cat seem twice as long as it is. It stepped onto my lap and curled up, purring before I even started petting her.
"No, just you," Dr. Pond said. "And it doesn't have to be just a visit... if you want."
I looked up sharply and Dr. Pond gave a revealing smile.
"She's for me?" I asked. My hand went to the cat's back and I found myself pressing down on her protectively.
"If you two are a good fit and if you're interested," Dr. Pond said, like it wasn't clear I was very interested. "She knows twenty commands already and she can easily learn more."
"What can she do?" I asked.
"Mostly her job is to ground you," Dr. Pond smiled. "She can recognize an impending panic attack before most people even feel them and when she senses one she'll jump on your lap or chest and purr. She's heavy enough that many people find it feels like a firm hug."
"What's her name?" I asked.
"So you're interested?" Dr. Pond went on with that appropriately catlike smile.
"I think I could give it a try," I said, looking down at the cat. My mind was already racing through the possibilities and the training we could do together. Cats had always been such a huge part of my life. It was the perfect choice for a support animal. "Let's see what happens."
"Right now her name is just 'Cat'," Dr. Pond said. "She's capable of learning temporary commands, though. She knows it's going to be changed eventually. So name her whatever you want."
I stroked the cat's bright ginger fur.
"Let's do this, Skraps."
Another one in the books. Not many left now...
Voting Games are always a surprise for everyone. A lot went on both in and out of universe and I'm happy to see that it seems most people are satisfied with the outcome. For her part Irina is breaking through the clouds and on her way to a happier state of mind, even though it will take time and there will always be sad moments. I'll be taking my normal few days of goofing off and brushing up on other stories and then I'll start the next one (it might be longer than normal while I work through the Organized Chaos Reapings). A lot of people have already submitted so I only have two slots reserved in case I double-booked. If I DIDN'T then I can give out those slots so I'll be keeping a list of interested people. See you soon!