Jasper Whitlock: The Weary Veteran

The dreams were getting worse, the screams were getting closer. Jasper just wanted the gnawing feeling of disgust to stop haunting him. Getting help felt like admitting defeat to him but he was at his wit's end. He had been deemed unfit for combat and could no longer hide behind active duty.

He couldn't sleep and on the rare days that sleep did catch up with him, he had vivid nightmares about the broken, bleeding bodies on the battlefield. Any loud noise reminded him of the bombs and the gunfire. He flinched at any uninvited human contact.

Basically, life sucked, and the veteran was ready to put the army behind him. He took a deep breath before opening the door to the clinic.

The receptionist looked up with a welcoming smile as Jasper approached her.

"Jasper Whitlock ma'am. Here for Dr. Beckett."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his abrupt mannerism but quickly put her smile back on.

"Of course. Just let me check-in if he's ready for you."

Jasper sat down on the benches by the reception tapping his foot nervously. Though he had promised Eddie he would do this, it still seemed like a bad idea now that he was here.

"Sir, the doctor will see you now."

Jasper walked towards the office doors with trepidation. Once he walked in, he saw an old, gruff-looking man sitting at a bare-bones desk. To his relief, there were no sofas or reclining chairs where he would be expected to relax and bare his feelings.

He saw a ramrod straight chair with no cushions. This was a much different approach than he had come in expecting. He almost felt comfortable in this environment.

The man stood up, extending his hand.

"Avery Beckett."

Jasper grasped the man's hand in a firm handshake.

"Jasper Whitlock."

With introductions out of the way, both men sat down.

Jasper waited expectantly expecting Avery to descend into some sort of psychobabble about mental wellness.

Instead, Avery locked his hands in front of him and asked in a clipped tone.

"How can I help you today, Jasper?"

This seemed to throw Jasper.

"I don't know."

"Why don't you start by explaining why you are here today?"

"I can't sleep well."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know." Jasper huffed, a bit annoyed. "I feel restless and can't go to sleep. When I do I often wake up just an hour or two later."

"I could outline some sleeping exercises for you that will help you over a period of time. Do you think that would be helpful for you?"

"I guess. We can try."

"Is there anything, in particular, that's been getting you down? And is there anything that makes it feel harder at the moment?"

"It's just...with the army, I had an escape hatch if you will. Now I find myself with entirely too much time on my hands and too many thoughts in my head."

"Do you want to share some of these thoughts?"

"I just find myself thinking about everything I've done. It doesn't sit right with me. And I can't bury it under work anymore."

"Would you like to elaborate on these thoughts? Talking about things can often help people process a situation better."

Jasper felt a flare of anger at the words.

"I don't want to feel better. I want to be miserable. I deserve to be. So much blood on my hands…There's no processing this, I'm afraid. I've taken lives. For justifiable reasons or no? I don't know. But… the ghosts of each life I have taken will always haunt me, I think."

Avery didn't say anything but looked upon Jasper like he knew there was more to say.

"I would give anything…do anything…for a fresh start."

"We all want to hit the reset button from time to time. Given your situation, I understand why you would want it more. Do you think redirecting your energies toward other hobbies will be helpful to you?"

"Hobbies?" The word sounded kind of ridiculous to Jasper.

"Yes. A change of pace. In fact, we have recreational activities for some of our resident and non-resident patients during the evening. Why don't you visit and see if that is something you might want to pursue?"

"You want me to paint pictures? That's your solution? I knew it was a bad idea coming here."

"What made you come here then?"

"I promised my brother Eddie. He's gotten tired of me floating about I think." Jasper chuckled humourlessly.

"Have you ever looked at cognitive behaviour therapy? I think that is another option that might be useful for you."

"What is that exactly?"

"CBT was originally developed to help people with trauma. It's basically the idea of changing negative thoughts and behaviours, and replacing them with things that are more helpful and healing. It can take time and work, but it is pretty simple to learn. Is that something you would be interested to learn more about?"

"I suppose."

"Excellent. So, for these sessions, we will work through Journaling, Nightmare exposure, and rescripting to ensure that we achieve relief for the nightmares while also helping your general mental well-being. Does that sound like something you would want to do?"

"If you think it will help."

"It has helped numerous people before you. You have to be willing to participate fully in the exercise though. Do you think that is something you can commit to?"

"If that is what is needed."

"You don't sound too sure. Would like to take some time to think about our conversation further?"

"No." Jasper said determinedly "I'm willing to do what it takes."

"Excellent. I think after this session there are a couple of things I would like you to do. First, I need you to think about what it is you wish to achieve from our sessions from today forward. List it down and we will discuss it in the next session. Can you do that?"

"Yes"

"Great. Second, there is an activity session taking place in our rec center later today. I think it would be helpful for you to attend."

The conversation continued in this manner for quite some time. Jasper was growing more comfortable with the situation as time progressed.

Before long the session had wrapped up. There was only an hour left before the start of the activity session so Jasper decided to while the time away.

He wandered the halls aimlessly before heading towards the rec center. As he got closer to the hall, he heard a voice singing. It was almost angelic in quality. He walked closer softly to listen better but not wanting to disrupt the singer by making his presence known.

"Play me some songs of imperfections,

Broken dolls and disillusions.

Eddie, how do you know what's good when you've only had bad?"