5 January 2013
It took me a while to find that door again. It always does. Then came the usual tea party, me getting killed, and the whole place being sucked away. Right on schedule. Although it felt like several hours, I knew realistically that it was only five minutes.
When I finally adjusted to being back on Earth again, I noticed that the psychiatrist's glass coffee table was now smashed, and her computer had a fist-sized hole in it. My hand was bleeding. The psychiatrist looked stunned.
I muttered an apology and prepared to face my mother with the damages again.
Just as I was walking out the door, the psychiatrist called out to me.
"Wait! I can help you!" she said quickly.
I slowly closed the door and made my way over the broken glass and back to the couch. How could she possible help me? She had seen what I could do! The best place for me was probably in a loony bin somewhere!
She carefully explained to me that what I had was just some sort of delusions, and that all I needed was some medication and a bit of hypnotherapy. As if that would help me! My problems were physical, not mental!
But I agreed to let her try it on me in our next session. She also told me not to worry about the damages, and that she wouldn't tell my mom if I didn't want her to.
I decided that she was pretty cool for that, for a normal person. I had started to resent normal people for their easy carefree lives and their ability to take credit for their own actions. I didn't have that luxury.
A week later, I found myself lying on the now slightly battered couch in the living room, with the psychiatrist explaining how the hypnotherapy would work. Basically, I would go to sleep, and she would try to find out what was wrong with my mind. It was difficult, but I managed to drift off soon enough.
I woke up.
It was a bit like seeing through those cheap 3D glasses. One side was normal, while the other side was the weird world.
They both blended together to make one big fucked-up world. Uh-oh. This didn't look good.
Delusions Part 3 • Opuss № I