Jeremy Edwards

Jeremy Edwards. 25. Anxiety/panic disorder. PTSD. insomnia. former soldier. shell shock : noun. an anxiety disorder associated with the stress of active warfare and characterized by such symptoms as survivor guilt, reliving the trauma in dreams, numbness and lack of involvement with reality, or recurrent thoughts and images. (see links for more info)

[shellshockedman]

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[shellshockedman]

{ ooc: hiatus lasting longer than i thoguht ;A; miss you guys. hope to be back soon! }

[shellshockedman]

{ ooc; on hiatus for the next 2 weeks for finals }

[poorlittlefaye]

"Just a bit ironic." Her comment was quiet. Faye crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head at his comment, but she couldn’t help the smile that still found itself on her face. "Well. I would say something, but I can’t really defend them or really speak bad of them."

Faye remained quiet, mulling over the question she’d asked him some more. It wasn’t a question she was really expecting to be answered, or maybe it was one she just didn’t want to hear an answer to. 

She took a step forward into the room when he opened the door. Looking around she was greeted smell of aging books and the sight of shelf after shelf of books, Faye didn’t think she would actually miss a library as much as was apparent to her now. She wasn’t sure where to start and was sure most of her free time would be spent in here.

Faye gave her full attention back to the one who had lead her to the library and nodded her head before speaking, “Yeah. Certainly seems like it would.” Faye stuck out her hand for him, “Thank you.”

[shellshockedman]

Jeremy smiled down at the out stretched hand. It seemed like an overly formal gesture. It seemed more like something a therapist would do at the end of a session than what a fellow patient would do and for a minute he wondered if that was how she still thought of herself.

He high fived the out stretched hand instead, smirking mischeviously.

"I was on my way here anyway. The library's the best place to be in this nut house. It's quiet." he said raising his eyebrows for emphasis on the last word.

"Well, quiet except for me of course." he added obligatorily.

"There's a librarian but she's not always about. I know my way around, though. Anything you're looking for specifically?"

[shellshockedman]

Awake | Cassia & Jeremy

[needle-stuck]

Something as intensely powerful as the anguish and anxiety that swept across him madly at all times proved to be quite difficult to focus her powers on. This tenuous grasp she had on them weaved a very delicate thread between the two, fit to burst with the slightest fumble, but she was determined to dance along such strings. He appeared to her a man so wrought by his mind’s illness, an infection burrowing deep into his chest and attempting to amputate his spirit. 

Cassia knew this intimately. After all, her own had sunk like a sunset eternal, gone never to rise again. She’d shaken her mortal coil and felt as if she’d been emptied of everything that had kept her tethered to a full sense of being. She was nothing now, a whisper of nothing. But right now, in this moment, the kindness she was performing for Jeremy made her feel like something again. Like something so wholly dominated by her humanity that she would put herself through this exhaustion solely to better someone else’s frame of mind.

And it was working. Like a narcotic, it swam in her veins and travelled towards him, tingling the tips of her icy fingers and raising the hairs on her arm to stand on end. It occurred to Cassia then that to manufacture the sort of tranquility she was providing to him, she needed at least a minimal version of it herself. So in order to maintain the tableau, she delved into her own subconscious and uncovered sweet, sedate memories to feed the illusion. Using genuine emotion to cultivate falsified ones. Part of her blanched at the invasion, for both their sakes, but when she raised her eyes to meet his she could see the spark of life he’d already had within him morph into a fire that burned away at his troubles. They would still be there when she parted ways with him, but for these precious moments it felt almost a mercy for him to have shaken them for a little while.

Cassia tipped her head towards him in deference to his statement, a swell of sympathy rising in her throat that she smothered with another slow drag of her cigarette. ‘The meds don’t help?’ she asked on an exhale, knowing the answer already, but feeling she needed to ask it anyway to make herself seem less perceptive of his ordeal and her involvement in alleviating it as this conversation went on.

Tapping off more ash from her cigarette, she flitted her gaze back down to her composition book and traced its frayed edges with a lone finger, working on an answer to his inquiry. ‘It,’ she began, unsure how to explain, ‘it sometimes feels like they’ve hitched a ride on my clothes. Like they’re always on me, always biting.’

A brief flash of pain accompanied her venture into the darker corners of her mind, arriving unbidden. This pain seemed to taint the calm that she was projecting towards him and once she realised it, she hurriedly worked to remedy the situation, summoning a faded memory to banish the unpleasantness. 

Hoping he would just ignore the sudden turn in mood just then, she pushed ahead to try and dismiss it. ‘But that’s enough about that. We keep talking in bug metaphors, I’m seriously gonna start itching,’ she heaved a small laugh, mouth quirking at the corners as she slipped her cigarette back between her lips and leveled him with her eyes once more.

[shellshockedman]

Only a table seperated the two people alone in the room but Jeremy felt as if he were a world away from her, there was a distance about her that made it feel like he was looking at her while she was on the other side of a glass.

When she asked if the meds helped he didn’t even justify it with a verbal answer- a half shrug, a half shaking of the head. Everyone in the asylum knew the meds didn’t help. If they helped, they wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it was as simple as all that?

He watched her careful movements and her slender fingers playing across the notebook in her lap. A writer maybe. She certainly seemed to have a way with words, she was having no trouble navigating her way through the conversation with each sentence more like a brushstroke on a canvas than the small talk  Jeremy was accustomed to. He felt a bit out of his depth. He thought she looked like how he imagined creative people to be- willowy and pale with soulful eyes and a guarded expression. He didn’t know any artists, but he thought if he did they would look like Cassia.

As she spoke, her words finely manicured poetry, Jeremy felt his anxiety return quite suddenly as if a dam had been holding it back and something had sent all the negative feelings spilling out once more. He wondered when he’d become so empathetic. Not that he wouldn’t normally sympathize. He could understand what she meant- insomnia wasn’t something that happened just at night, it was ever present. A constant reminder.

Jeremy took a deep drag off his cigarette, trying to reclaim the calm feeling he’d had only moments before but it seemed nicotine hadn’t been the cause and he exhaled in a sigh of dissapointment.

“Should we switch our metaphor to something less creepy crawly?” he joked flatly, “You ever count sheep?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up in the parody of a smile and he took another inhale off of his cigarette.

“Where does that even come from? Counting sheep? Who thinks of shit like that? It’s completely mad. Though I suppose it only works slightly less than the meds so… but why sheep, I mean? Couldn’t it be counting something else?”

He leaned back, rubbing his eyes and holding back a yawn. No sleep. Sleep is the enemy.

“I’m tired. Not making much sense.” he mumbled apologetically. “Just tell me when to shut up.”

though he wasn't sure what he'd do if she did. He was scared. A minute ago he hadn't been but now he was. Scared that if she left he' be alone with his thoughts again and the looming threat of sleep overtaking him.

[poorlittlefaye]

Faye kept her eyes forward on where they were walking listening to him giving an occasional glance in his direction, “There’s nothing to say sorry for.” She replied trying to give him a smile of her own, there it was again taking her awhile to string words together to where they sounded right in her own head, “Places like this really aren’t discussed a whole lot, it’s almost like their a secret of some sort that’s only told to those who are on the brink of cracking.”

Faye lowered her gaze to the floor as they walked sure he wouldn’t let her run into anything, it was a moment or two before she spoke again, “I was actually studying to be a psychiatrist.” It was almost a whisper that brought a faint smile to her lips. “Life works strange ways.”

She lifted her head again and nodded, “Yeah.” Was all she could say in agreement, there was little more she could say to add to it. “But everything has to heal eventually.” Maybe. Possible. Did she even believe the words she’d said? “Right?”

[shellshockedman]

"That... is a little ironic." he said when she mentioned she'd been training to be a psychiatrist. "You must be smart then.... though, on the other hand I guess some of the psychiatrists here don't seem that smart..." he added with a laugh.

He was carefully avoiding responding to her quip that everything healed. If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all, maybe. Jeremy found it hard to lie outright that he thought there was hope for everyone to get better.

"This is the library." he said, pushing the door open. It truly was one of the better places in the asylum- while most of Broken Asylum had an austere, modern, and proffessional appearance and the rooms themselves were like cell blocks, the library and the music room were both well equipped and nearly homey in their atmosphere. The ceiling was high and there were shelves upon shelves of books of varying ages.

"I'm sure you can continue studying psychology here on your own. I think there's some books about it around. I mean, I'm sure there are. There's books about everything here."

[soldier--adamparker]

Adam sighed, growing weary and worn out from the conversation. It was different though— talking to another patient who had experienced that same stuff that he had. Whenever he talked to the therapists, they always asked him the same tiring questions. 'How does that make you feel?' and 'Did you want to physically hurt your buddy?' Adam was tired of those same mind numbing questions.

"What made it worse was that he knew what I was going through. Granted it wasn’t a bad for him because he hadn’t spent as much time in the war as I had. He didn’t see the shit I saw. I watched people I loved and cared for die. Brothers, even." Adam shook slightly as the images flicked through his mind. 

"I should’ve known better than to make our relationship a romantic one. I knew it would only end badly. I should’ve listened to my gut." He murmured, mostly talking to himself at that moment but, he knew the other guy was listening and would most likely respond. 

"I couldn’t bring myself to love anyone else. I love him. He’s the only one there could ever be. I should write him or something. Let him know I’m getting help. Or at least trying. I doubt I’ll get any better. Nothing can take away those awful memories."

[shellshockedman]

"I worry about not getting better either." Jeremy said, lighting another cigarette. "Anytime I start to feel like I might be improving, I don't even tell my parents or anyone because I know I'll just get their hopes up and the next day or maybe a week later, I'll just be worse again."

he shrugged.

"I don't blame you for not contacting him. Sometimes I wish everyone would just give up on me. I don't like hurting people I love. I don't like seeing them dissapointed that I can't be whoever I used to be."

He forced a smile.

"Suppose I'm just being pessimistic though. Blimey, this conversation's taken a dark turn, hasn't it?" he almost laughed. "I shouldn't be saying all this morbid shit. Things will probably turn up for you. You stayed in the army for a long while. You're strong. Hell, if you think of what we've both been through you'd think nothing would be impossible to live through now but strangely that's not how it works."

[poorlittlefaye]

Faye tried to think of something to say to counter the possibility of her having amnesia but came up empty, so she just smiled instead. “You know, maybe. Would certainly make for a twist. At least I know my name.”

He seemed uncomfortable when it was brought up, it was in her nature to want to ask more about. But the polite thing to keep her mouth shut on the subject, he didn’t know her and she didn’t know him. 

Faye crossed her arms when he brought up that the plant may be fake, “What cheaters.” She said shaking her head.

"Excellent." Faye said a little too loud, she grabbed her bag from the seats and walked quickly to catch up to him slowly down when she caught up. She put the strap of the bag over her head, she was lost in her own head until he spoke again.

Faye stopped for a moment before walking again shaking her head, “Not that personal.” She adjusted the strap on her bag, it should have been easier to answer if it wasn’t that personal. “Just one.” She avoided looking at the him.

Quick change of subject to keep anything from lingering, “But I’ve visited enough people in other hospitals to have something to compare it to.” Faye said with a shrug of her shoulders and another smile on her face.  

[shellshockedman]

"Sorry." he said, smiling sympathetically.

After a moment he said-

"I didn't really know anything about hospitals like these before I came here. I always associated 'hospital' with like... broken leg or something. Not psychological problems. I mean, I've been to plenty of hospitals for physical injuries."

wounds on the outside. but wounds on the inside were proving to be much more of a challenge and have a much longer time to recover from. And even if he did improve, he wondered if the scars would ever heal. On the outside he might've looked healthy enough but on the inside? a wreck. His mental state was whatever emotional equivalent there was to having every bone in your body broken and being lit on fire or something. The pain was nearly constant.

"I guess physical injuries are simpler in a way."

[soldier--adamparker]

Adam graciously took the cigarette and rolled it between his chapped lips. Being in the cold, wasn’t helping the situation with his lips. They were getting more and more chapped with every passing second. He finally lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. 

"I think anyone can kill, if given the chance to do so. I mean, all it would take is one time for him to piss me off and bam, I would immediately fall back into war mode and I could kill him. I wouldn’t want to considering I love him but, things happen. I guess it’s a good thing I’m here and not there." Adam sighed. "I’d never forgive myself."

Adam knew all too well what the man meant by everything seeming to be like war. “It’s exactly like that. I close my eyes and suddenly I’m back on the front lines dodging bullets and counting the bombs that blow up all around me.” 

[shellshockedman]

Jeremy knew exactly what it was like. There was no control. He wasn't sure which he hated more- the depression and the anxiety or the violence that it sometimes caused.

"I get it too... it feels real. And suddenly I'm so scared I know I'd do anything to survive. And that's when people get hurt."

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was tired. Physically and emotionally. But it felt good to talk about this to someone other than a therapist.

"It's like being in a fast moving car but with no brakes and no way to steer, just watching yourself crash at high speed completely helpless even when you're supposed to be in the driver's seat."

He'd hurt people he hadn't meant to. He'd hurt co-workers and friends and his family. But he'd never hurt a lover. Since he'd come back to the war he was a total wreck and he'd never let anyone get close enough to him to be his lover since then. He didn't think he could show anyone else affection or care about them when he barely cared about himself.

"I'm sorry that you had someone you loved... and you lost them. I'm glad I never had a girlfriend back home during or after the war. I've thought about it before. It would just make things worse I think. More painful. For them and for me. Nothing's the same, is it? And you can't make someone else understand or expect them to put up with your bullshit."

He shook his head, looking down at the ground.

"I don't even feel like a whole person anymore... the war took too much of me. I'm just... a shell I guess. I don't think I can love anyone in that way when there's so much of me gone. And I don't think anyone else could love me."

[poorlittlefaye]

"Just new." Faye replied smiling a bit more when the man chuckled, "I’m fortunate enough to still have my memory." She quickly added.

Faye opened her bag and retrieved one of her journals from it, listening to him as he spoke and she flipped through the pages. Her eyes going back up to him when he mentioned what the library was like, “How long have you been here?” She asked looking back to the pages of the journal, “If you don’t mind me asking that is.” A few more pages and she was frowning slightly and shaking her head, “I don’t think I wrote down the number.” Faye said rather sheepishly, she returned the journal back  to her bag and stood up. “So perhaps you could show me to the library instead.”

"It is?" Faye questioned, that was the first time she’d heard someone refer a place like this as a tourist spot. She looked to the plant in question and smiled, "Some of the best I’ve seen in a hospital so far." She turned her attention back to him, "Why haven’t they listened? All the best facilities have a pool. I’m sure they’re close to giving in." Faye nodded her head in certainty.

[shellshockedman]

"Not an amnesiac but forgot to write down your room number? A likely story. Maybe you've just forgotten the fact that you're an amnesiac." he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She seemed docile enough though which was good. He hated the patients who were forced to stay in the asylum who were dragged through kicking and screaming bloody murder and knocking things over as the orderlies took them to their rooms. Too much noise... too much screaming... it drove Jeremy mad. One of the best things about the library was its silence.

"I've- uh- I've been here a while I suppose." Jeremy said, wincing slightly. He didn't admit it was his second time here. Or that he'd seen many other patients with PTSD who he'd spent time with, spent group therapies with, had left many months before he had while Jeremy was still stuck unable to recover.

He was happy for the subject change and squinted at the plant.

"It's nice because it's probably fake..." he gave a suspicious look to the ficus, flicking one of the leaves.

He smirked at her agreement of the pool. A gym would be nice too. And a football field. Maybe a jacuzzi.

"I'll lead you to the library." he said starting to walk down the hallway towards it, looking at her every so often to check that she was still walking with him.

"So.." he said after a few moments "You said the plants are better than hospitals you've seen so far... have you been to many...?"

He paused.

"Sorry that might be too personal a question."

[juliet-babes-deactivated2015020]

"I seriously want one. I hear Taco Bell has them. You think they would deliver to an asylum?"

[shellshockedman]

"That's a thought. Though the orderlies probably wouldnt allow it. The asylum being a joy free zone and all."

[poorlittlefaye]

Someone stopped, and Faye kept quiet sitting up only when the word about beds came out of the strangers mouth. She pulled her bag closer to herself pausing to just look at the man standing before her. She nodded her head a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “Don’t know where mine is.” Was all she said on the matter, smoothing down the front of her shirt. “There’s a library here?” Faye asked pointing at the books in his hand.

[shellshockedman]

"You must be brand new then. Or an amnesiac?" he said, chuckling slightly.

He felt bad for new patients- he couldn't help but wonder what they were leaving behind when they came to this place. If they had families that would miss them or if the life they left was so terrible that an asylum was their only sanctuary. He felt worse for older patients like himself though, to whom the walls of the asylum were tediously familiar and everyday felt exactly like the last with nothing ever changing, especially their own mental condition.

"Oh" he said looking at the books in his own hand momentarily. "Yeah. It's a pretty nice library in fact. Big. Lots of books old and new. Kind of my stomping ground." he said, cracking a smile.

"SO," he said, "I know this place pretty well unfortunately. If you give me your room number I can show you where you live if you like. Or the library. There's lots of sights to see here, believe it or not. Practically a tourist spot."

he waved his hands grandiosely to the potted plant on one side of the chairs. It was wilting and rather unattractive.

"Just look at all the glorious flora we have here." he joked. "Sorry to say we don't have a private pool. Yet! I've been suggesting we get one to the orderlies for ages now."

He smiled at the girl. Whatever her situation was he didn't expect her to be thrilled to be here, the least he could do was make an attempt (even a sorry one) to cheer her up.

[poorlittlefaye]

It wasn’t the most ideal place to lay down but Faye had no idea where to even start when looking for her room and exploring her new environment didn’t sound all that appealing at the moment. Faye used the bag with her journals as a type of pillow claiming a row of chairs pushed against a wall as her bed. Her fingers around the ring that was now on a chain around her neck, she watched people walk pass and go to their unknown destinations.  

[shellshockedman]

Jeremy was walking down the hall from the library, two books in hand when he came across an unusual sight. A patient sprawled out like a homeless person over a row of seats using her bag as a pillow. It was a nearly pitiful sight and certainly made Jeremy stop, smiling in slight amusement at her.

"You do know they have beds here, right?" he drawled, the manchester accent coming out thick. "like... ones with matresses and real pillows?"

[juliet-babes-deactivated2015020]

"—What the hell is a waffle taco?"

[shellshockedman]

"Probably something they serve in heaven. Sounds fucking awesome."

[lilyy-w]

Second time?! Leila’s eyes widened up at Jeremy in shock. That must’ve been discouraging… coming back here for another time. “God I’m so sorry.” She said sadly. “It sucks that you’re back here, holy shit.” She pouted slightly and then nodded. “Right, right, a whisk.” Leila opened up drawers until she found one, holding it up in the air triumphantly. 

"Kitchens are always different but, generally, things are placed in the same type of location." She handed him the whisk and looked around for vegetable oil. "We’re gunna need some water as well, right?" She asked, finding the oil and running to the brownie mix to see how much she needed of that.

[shellshockedman]

It had been hard enough to check into the asylum the first time around but when he'd come back he'd felt more hopeless than he probably ever had in his life. Even his doctors, he felt, had probably given up on him. 'I can only help you help yourself' is what the therapists said to him but he didn't know how he was supposed to help himself when he barely had the energy and will to go on living everyday.

"Well, Broken Asylum's always sweeter the second time around." he joked, but he could hear the bitterness leaking through into his tone.

He began mixing the ingredients but quickly had spilled some of the powder mix over the side of the bowl, he smiled despite himself.

"We're going to make a mess. Well, atleast I am." he said, quickly swiping a taste of spilled chocolate off his thumb before going back to work. "Let's just hope the patients don't come spilling out of their rooms in droves if they smell chocolate baking. Not sure if I'm up for a party."

[lilyy-w]

Leila eyed his own purple bracelet and felt at ease once more. “Neither do I. I feel like I’ll be forced to wear purple forever if I want my clothes to correspond with this mandatory bracelet. Luckily it’s my favorite color.” She laughed, raising an eyebrow at Jeremy. Clashed with his complexion? “I couldn’t tell.”

"Well, Jeremy Edwards, it’s nice to meet you." She peered into the other lower cabinets for bowls and cups of measurement and set them on the counter beside the brownie mix. "How long’ve you been here, by the way?" She wondered. "I’ve only just gotten here like… like… beginning of mid-January."

[shellshockedman]

"I've been here for a while. This is my second time as a patient here. I left at the beginning of last fall and went back home to live on my own in Manchester but...." he smiled bitterly, "....it didn't work out so well. So now I'm back."

He took one of the bowls Leila had laid out and cracked an egg in it, putting the shells to the side.

"We got a whisk around here? I've never cooked in this kitchen before..."

It was embarassing to admit to having been there twice. He hoped for this girls' sake that she would get better and never have to come back a second time.

[anothermusic-blog]

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[shellshockedman]

[ The Pit // Silversun Pickups ]

Somebody somewhere Will clean out your wounds We’ll bury the lie Bury the lie Now we tumble down a hill to a fire with a crowd The flicker becomes thicker as we bottom out The residents don’t even notice the sudden shouts