.png){kind=small}
There were a few who were able to comprehend the tangled corners of his mind. In fact, when little, his stepfather would shut him in their house’s basement for days whenever he got sent home from school on the basis of either rebelling or not cooperating in class. The teachers recommended that he needed intense sessions of therapy because he acted so differently from other students, never working or socializing with other students, but no one could comprehend that his mind just eyed the world a bit ….differently.
Everything was just so loud, bright and intense. Hard work for others had always been the simplest tasks for him. He was easily bored, easily distracted by detailed observations; the deep curiosity.
The alarm bells rang for his family when his first journal was caught. His mother was deeply concerned by his sadistic thoughts, dreamt plots of deadly crimes. It had ended up in him receiving weeks of beatings and threats. The scars left behind by that torture had made sure to make him temporary suppress that side of his soul, that dark part of his mind, only for that side to ferociously spring out years later.
Today, this was the real him, the open him.
He wasn’t scared, anymore. Listening to how his obsession previously screamed for help, while being trapped with his pets, had given an odd sense of sadistic strength. He had cherished the pleas, the scenario of vulnerability, this was truly him. No boundaries in the way of enjoying his psycho games, he was a sick man. He had accepted that a long time ago, back when he actually loved being thrown into a basement by his step-father, back when he secretly traced his scars into to reopen the wounds. Agony was peace and comfort for him.
A sudden loud ‘thud’ from inside his house was quick to make his sharp emotions focus on the noise twirling inside his house, yet he didn’t even move a muscle. In fact, the noise inside the house actually warmed his soul and coax a smirk from his heart. His dear step- sister was simply teaching his 'to be wife' how to cook.
Carmen could finally see the sun shining from behind the dark clouds.
SARAH,
I had been brought into a small wooden house, with only one elderly woman residing inside it. That woman had to be wheel-chaired around and seemed to completely ignore my presence. I guess she was probably in her late 90’s and didn’t have enough senses so truly comprehend what was going on around her. I felt my heart pang for her. Who was she?
Jean had made sure to have me make breakfast for my own self, instead of serving me food. She claimed she wasn’t my helper, and I actually had no issues with making food for my own self. It’s just that I had no idea about how to cook. Known for burning down kitchens by simply standing inside them, I wasn’t what many called good with kitchen utensils.
Tangled between throwing a massive tantrum over not wanting to do anything related to Carmen (that extremely aggravating narcissistic deserved nothing) and trying to blend in before sneakily escaping, it had taken one stern fist raise from Jean to have me start fidgeting with the kitchen utensils. I had no idea how abusive any of these people could get. It was best I tried to remain mellow before using even a single sign of opportunity to escape from my prison.
The house had only two bedrooms with joint washrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. It had no first floor, no basement, no luxuries to display its wealth, a simply old house probably meant for aiding in carrying out illegal crimes, like, kidnapping. Also, there were no houses, buildings, situated near this place, being surrounded only by huge fields of crops and thick bushes, that going out and looking for help seemed futile. I had to wait for an opportunity.
My fingers actually burnt as the stove’s fire sneakily managed to reach me, and my clumsy nature made utensils drop. Jean was a cold teacher. She was scolding. Taunting and berating my lack of skills. I could feel tears brimming in my eyes.
After being chased by a psycho, I had dreamt of a prince and got a dragon instead. My heart felt so crushed and broken. Despite the latest discoveries, Bradley had always been a gentleman; he would stutter when nervous, act super confident when trying to get over his nerves. I had never spoken with him, never interacted, but during all of my family gathering and talks of our engagement, I had picked up information and quirks. I felt like I was about to live a fairytale, until the arrival of Aisha. She had everything I didn’t, a high achiever meant to be always adored. I, on the other hand, was well-versed with how it felt like to be hated and unwanted. It felt quite low at times.
Huffing as tears started falling down my cheeks, I shivered as the clouds roared outside. Peering out of the kitchen’s window, which was situated just above its sink, I winced in loneliness. The dark sky was supporting my tears. It felt so depressing, so trapped and painful thinking about all those who were living their fairytale, yet I knew that was only me being ungrateful. One should always think of those who are living in conditions below them.
A sudden loud thunder had me jump in fear. I had always feared loud noises, My soul broke further just thinking about how thunder was now roaring inside my heart, too. I had no idea about what the future could bring along.
After making a few sliced of French bread and stacking it up on a white plate which was placed in the middle of the kitchen island, I was ordered to wash the frying pan before having my food. I had always been so impatient when it came to food, never ever letting anyone stop me from enjoying my meal times, yet here I had been so restricted, so controlled. Thankfully, Carmen wasn’t here, or who knows what I was capable of doing. One scathing remark from him, and I was sure that my patience would run out. His obsession, no one asked for him to be obsessed.
Washing the pan with ice cold water, I winched as Jean spoke from behind me. She was leaning against the kitchen cupboard, playing with the kitchen knife. I didn’t dare provoke her, only sobbing tears in silence.
‘You know he didn’t choose you, at first,’
‘What?’ I turned around, sniffing up my tears and wiping my hands with a random handkerchief.
‘It was some other girl he had been stalking before growing obsessed with you,’ she continued, throwing the sharp knife in the air and momentarily meeting my gaze. ‘In fact, I believe he is just distracting himself now. He is not right in his head so is probably doing this all out of boredom. Just don’t get attached during whatever game he is trying to play. He will try to manipulate your mind and, once bored, he will flee, understood?’
HUH?
So I wasn’t his first choice? I don’t know why that crushed so much. I had never been anyone’s first choice. Even if I ever was, I was quickly replaced. This was just a harsh reminder of how I could never be accepted or wanted-even by messed up minds. Attached? That psycho was to live on top of my hate-list forever.
Starting to bite my thumbnails, I slowly nodded and gave her a bitter smile. ‘Clearly, and thank you for you concern, but you don’t need to worry about me. My mind has gone through enough to know that not many can be trusted. Rest assured, I know how manipulative, cunning and disloyal people can be. I never had any false hopes.’
‘GOOD’ She simply shrugged, putting the knife away and grabbing a slice of French toast. Chewing on it, she walked out of the kitchen while ordering me to start eating my food. I was left standing in my broken state. It actually pierced seeing how cold and heartless how many people could be. Jean’s words had stung so badly. She had reminded me that, once again, I was just a replacement, even now the emotions hadn’t been real. This stone-cold girl truly did belong to Carmen’s gang.
The sun seemed to now peer out of the shadows and shine behind me, leaving me engulfed in my own dark shadows, my very own misery, all alone and completely shattered.
‘Ma’am, you know what we are doing is wrong?’
‘Yes,’ Jolene sighed, staring out of her office’s window. ‘But this is the only way.’
‘The only way to save our jobs.’
‘True,’ She whispered beneath her breath, knowing that using an innocent soul as bait was one of the most disgusting things anyone could do. But then, who was to question the morale of the police. Everyone was invested in looking after their own justice. Charlotte might have tried pricking her conscience right now but, in the end, 'it was everyone was looking after their own gains', no matter what the cost.
Days had started passing in a blur, and I just found myself so lost and agonized by the pain. There was no one willing to rescue me, no one willing to help. The mysterious ‘Carmen’ had simply dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left to create havoc in the world. His obsession with me, or this game, had been so mind-boggling, all the chasing, avenging my wounds had been meant for keeping me in this place? I was both relieved and disgusted.
The walls had started talking to me, air taunting, there were just so many thoughts and fears clouding my silence of peace. What was Carmen going to do next? My isolation was fumed by the fact that everyday Jean would leave early in the morning and only show up late in the evenings, and the old lady would simply stay in her room. I chose to spend my days in the warm kitchen area.
I had seen stories like these, obsessed psychos would only chase for the kill and store their possession away as trophies, off to find another victim. Already after another girl before becoming obsessed with me, I knew that it wouldn’t take Carmen long before he gets a new obsession. But what was going to happen to me at the end? Mentally ruined, destroyed and broken for the rest of the world.
I felt so disoriented by how minute my role had always been in society. Kidnapped for days, yet the world seemed to be moving on. I knew, hoped, my family would with time, that is just how things worked. Loneliness had never been so daunting. The bittersweet moments of the past had often started tormenting me during my silent isolation.
Sitting all alone on the kitchen stool, I would spend my days reminiscing old smiles. Memories of laughing when Bradley’s parents had fed me cakes in order to secretly officialise the date of our wedding, would run in my mind, I was such a strong believer of happy endings, white knights. For me, it had always been chasing after fairy tales, waiting in my Tower for a prince, yet I had got a dragon.
The society puts so much pressure on us to get the best, that we start craving for socially-admired fortunes. Prince charming with manners, personality, money, and class are known to showcase a princess’s luck. Those who don’t get rescued, they are cast away as evil queens and dragons.
I remember feeling pride that my future - husband was graduating from an extremely famous law, extremely well - spoken and fully acceptable by society, and then breaking down by the simple thought of him choosing someone else over me. It shouldn’t have mattered. Right now, trapped in a place where day and night just seemed like blurred coloured glass, I had realized just how foolish I had been to chase after the society’s norms, to break upon being rejected by them. Where were they now when I needed their concern?
Peering out of my prison’s windows, I would fall into deep thoughts, wondering how long this was going to go on, when I would be rescued from my Tower. The thoughts of simply being a victim. I knew nothing about my future. Except that a psycho had forcefully entered it.
The cases I had read included specific details for my type of scenario, deranged psychos obsessing over someone who partially reminded of their past, or enacted as their triggers, and leaving them entrapped for ages. These girls were usually kept in isolated places- without any food and water. And years later, the police would find them badly traumatized and malnourished. It was haunting to think I was following the same path.
I wonder from where did Carmen get to know me. I had never studied afar, made sure to stay at my home most of the time, there was no attending of parties, social events, so from where did this deranged person get to retrieve my past, find me? And what, on earth, was he planning to do next? He had created such dark havoc at the thought of me being away, yet, here, he was content in dumping me in this deserted place. What the heck?
Feeding on stale pieces of bread and milk, I was growing weaker by the days. Jean would only return back to taunt my helplessness. During night times, she would send me to the fields to pick some crops and have me fetch water from a well nearby. It was an odd form of torture, she knew that I was a timid, scared cat and was fully using that to her advantage.
With only tears and loneliness accompanying my silence, the sunlight would blaze in different corners and pierce my soul and this heart. I had tried escaping, desperately roaming around in fields, screaming at the sight of wild chameleons roaming around while looking for some sign of human settlement because anything was better than my uncertain prison, but my attempts were easily turned futile by Jean who had made sure to drag me back to my place. She would drag me back and threaten to throw me in front of Carmen’s pet snakes. I had misjudged this woman. She was heartless; a deadly and heartless girl.
With the night sky now hovering above my head. I was just returning back with a pale of water when Jean greeted me at the doorway of my prison. She had a snake wrapped around her neck. What the heck?? Her, too?
'Back already?’ She mused, leaning against the door’s Threshold with her arms folded. ‘I thought you would take some time.’
I simply ignored her, moving past her in cautiousness. Memories of her harsh warnings still aching my heart. There was no delusions, and she had reinforced all of those securities.
‘Hmm, do you see this friend of mine,’ She bitterly teased, patting her pet snake. ‘He wants to greet you. He has been missing you so much.’ That infuriated me so much.
Placing the pale on the living room’s wooden floor, I turned towards Jean with a visible scowl on my face.
‘Are you enjoying this?’ I sneered. ‘Seeing me so helpless and tormented, knowing I can’t do anything is joyful for you? If so, then shame on you, shame you for being heartless and cruel. Only cowards enjoy watching the weak in pain, I pray you never get caught in my situation, never get to go through what I am going through.’
Jean immediately straightened up and removed the snake from around her neck. ‘Your ex-fiancé is in jail now. I heard you really cared about him, he was a pretty decent man, super rich, classy and so well educated, no wonder he dumped you for a richer girl. I don’t get why even Carmen is sparing you a minute of his day.’
I immediately walked up to her and was about to harshly slap against her cheeks when she quickly shifted the black cobra in one hand, making me wince in fear, and grabbed my wrist with the other one, breathing down on my face in anger and eyes gleaming with raw anger.
‘Don’t you dare even think about crossing me. Your childish tantrums might be tolerated by Carmen, but I wouldn’t even think about putting you in your place. It’s not easy living on our side of the town. But guess what, princess, it’s about time that you open your eyes and accept that life isn’t some sort of childish fantasy; it’s struggling, and you don’t get to prance around complaining about broken hearts and dream, You need to grow up.’
‘You don’t get to tell me that’ I snatched away my wrist in sheer fury, not moving an inch away. ‘You, Carmen or anyone has no right to control my life in any way. It’s simply none of your business, and what you are doing, however you are trying to appease your conscious, it wouldn’t work. You are wrong, Carmen is wrong, and I know time always right the wrongs.’
‘You don’t deserve Carmen,’ Jean retorted through pressed teeth, making me wince and take one step back.
‘What?’
‘You.’
‘You care about him…’ I pin-pointed, my eyes growing wide in epiphany. ‘Oh my gosh! All this talk about him being messed up, it’s actually me whom you think isn’t worthy enough for him. Him kidnapping me, it’s seriously bugging you, isn’t it.’
She immediately diverted her gaze away from me.
‘Just shut the Fuck up,’ she mused, staring at the wiggling snake at her right hand. ‘Go mourn, or do whatever you want to do, you will be dumped away before you even know it. I have seen Carmen do that. You are no-one special.’
‘Yes, I am not.” I yelled, curling my fist in sheer fury. ‘I am no-one special, I know that, you know that, so why don’t you just let me leave, take me back, I never asked for this, so you have no right to accuse me of anything.’
She simply huffed, turning away from me. That was all I was going to get, these people, they were so disgusting and heartless. I was going to be kept here for who knows how long, with, yet, another person hating my soul. I felt suffocated. So easily picked to be tortured by a bunch of psychos. Was that how much of an easy punching bag I seemed? In high school, college, it was pain, pain and just pain.
Not wanting to start sobbing with huge tears in front of this twisted woman, I decided to escape by rushing inside the nearest room. It belonged to the old lady. She was sitting on her wheelchair, right in front of her room’s window, absently peering outside. I felt so annoyed by her quiet behaviour. Why was she simply being a silent witness?
However, not wanting to be disrespectful towards an elderly person. I took a deep breath and walked towards her.
‘Still awake?' I tried starting a conversation, anything to distract me from my anger and frustration.
...........
What Is Psychosis?
Psychosis is a condition that affects the way your brain processes information. It causes you to lose touch with reality. You might see, hear, or believe things that aren’t real. Psychosis is a symptom, not an illness. A mental or physical illness, substance abuse, or extreme stress or trauma can cause it.
Psychotic disorders, like schizophrenia, involve psychosis that usually affects you for the first time in the late teen years or early adulthood. Young people are especially likely to get it, but doctors don’t know why. Even before what doctors call the first episode of psychosis (FEP), you may show slight changes in the way you act or think. This is called the prodromal period and could last days, weeks, months, or even years.Symptoms of Psychosis
Psychosis doesn’t suddenly start. It usually follows this pattern:
Warning signs before psychosis: It starts with gradual changes in the way you think about and understand the world. You or your family members may notice:
A drop in grades or job performance
Trouble thinking clearly or concentrating
Suspiciousness or unease around others
Lack of self-care or hygiene
Spending more time alone than usual
Stronger emotions than situations call for
No emotions at all
Signs of early psychosis: You may:
Hear, see, or taste things others don’t
Hang on to unusual beliefs or thoughts no matter what others say
Pull away from family and friends
Stop taking care of yourself
Not be able to think clearly or pay attention
Symptoms of a psychotic episode: Usually you’ll notice all of the above plus:
Auditory hallucinations: Hearing voices when no one is around
Tactile hallucinations: Strange sensations or feelings you can’t explain
Visual hallucinations: You see people or things that aren’t there, or you think the shape of things looks wrong
Delusions: Beliefs that aren’t in line with your culture and that don’t make sense to others, like:
Outside forces are in control of your feelings and actions
Small events or comments have huge meaning
You have special powers, are on a special mission, or actually are a god
VERY INTERESTING READING DONE...
Possible relation between psychosis and the unconscious: a review of “The Unconscious,” by Freud.
This review intends to present some elements of the Freudian thinking on psychosis, focusing on the relations between psychosis and the unconscious. The unconscious phenomena which episodically cross the neurotic individual are massively and continuously shown on psychosis. The psychotic individual appears to be constantly invaded by the other, like a strange person, which bursts inside of him/her and presents itself as a threat to the process of construction of this person’s identity. But what is the relation between the unconscious and psychosis in the Freudian text? It could be hypothesized that the psychotic individual may be invaded by a pulsating unconscious which demands a symbolic mediation. This reveals the importance of associating verbal construction to medication in cases of psychosis.
Comentários