[Closed-ish] and here's the flipside

[theroadwarrior]

Who: Max Rockatansky (still 22... for a bit...) and you.
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Iskaulit, Starstruck, etc.
When: the days before the 8th. Follow-up to his first post. It may also involve threads after Max reverts back, to keep things all together.

Max slowly reverts back to his old ways -- and it's terrifying.

Warnings for mental illness, PTSD, and the situations that may arise from them! There will be top comments for different people inside; if you're interested in tagging into this with Max as he reverts back to older!Max, hit me up via PP on plurk or PM, and we can flesh something out!)

Comments

[dancingmd]

I wish there was something I could do, some medicine we could use, but... I can't fix everything, no matter how much I want to.

[She gives his shoulder a squeeze.]

But I'm always here to listen, and you can stay as long as you want.

[theroadcop]

[He nods, the reply stuck in his throat for a long moment. What can he even say to that? To any of this? This very strange place is not only so different from home it's staggering, but now it's closing in on him, same as these choking memories of a madman. Memories that are actually his.]

... You're telling me there's nothing that can be done.

I'll be some loon soon.

[dancingmd]

No, Max, you're not some loon. You've...experienced a lot of trauma and that's going to take its toll on anyone. Do you know what PTSD is?

[theroadcop]

[PTSD. It's something perhaps heard in passing — it's hardly something anyone really paid much attention to, even at the tipping point towards the end of the world. Max would never in a million years apply anything to himself like that. He shifts uncomfortably.]

Guessing the T stands for trauma.

What, because I'm a cop? I've seen shit before, doctor. I've seen victims with glazed-over eyes, barely themselves. But that's not me. [The D is for Denial, Beverly. Or Desperate. Or both. He pats a hand to himself.] I'm supposed to be able to handle it. It's what I'm trained for!

[dancingmd]

It's not a moral reflection on you or your training or anything like that. Cops, soldiers, medics - it can happen to anyone. I've seen it happen to fellow officers of mine - doesn't change the fact that they are good and strong people.

[theroadcop]

[He runs his hand over his chin and mouth, distraught tension running through him. He feels helpless. Hopeless. This is so much to take in — this idea that he's already happened, and that someone else usually takes his place here.

Someone who sounds miserable, who sounds like someone he would pity for being so mucked up. And what does this mean for his home? His family? He's terrified to ask. Suddenly, the future is a dark and gnarled place, and there's no escaping it.]

What am I supposed to do?

[dancingmd]

[WIth a sympathetic sigh, Beverly pulls up another chair to sit next to Max.]

There are some medications and therapy that might help, if you're willing to try them but I can't promise anything. All my experience with treating PTSD before has been In conjunction with a psychologist and we don't have any here.

[theroadcop]

[He scoffs humorlessly.]

Sounds pretty hopeless. Not much of a wound to treat.

Will I be dangerous?

[dancingmd]

No, Max, no. [Beverly shakes her head emphatically.] Never hopeless. I would do - and have done - anything in my power to help you. None of this is meant as discouragement, but I'm simply not going to sugarcoat the situation either. That'd be unfair to you.

[theroadcop]

[He breathes out softly, stare downcast.]

I... uh. I need - some time. To think about this.

[This is a hell of a thing to process, doc.]

[dancingmd]

Of course. Take as much time as you need.