Eye Mind

"Today we are just doing your intake, okay Mr. Watson?" Doctor Mayweather said to James, his third patient of the day. He seemed a bit nervous and tired.

"Okay, sure," He replied. He sat back as comfortably as he could in his chair as Doc picked up his clipboard and began the intake.

"I know this is your very first time coming to counseling, so let me start off by saying that this is very simple. I'm going to ask you honest questions and you are going to give me honest answers, okay? It's so I can determine whether or not you need to see a doctor"

"Alright." He said with a nod. Dr. Mayweather began the long list.

"Suicidal thoughts or actions?" He asked.

"Not anymore," replied James, shaking his head.

"But you used to?"

"A little. When I was in my thirties, going through a pretty rough time,"

"Any use of drugs or alcohol?"

"No, not anymore. I used to drink back then, too. I quit before it could get any worse."

"Okay....now, do you ever see or hear things that aren't really there?"

"I never hear anything, but I see things. Two people, a man and a little girl about six or eight or so. The man is always wearing an old hat, and the girl is always wearing a fluffy pink and white dress,"

And that's how James became my patient. The day of his first session, I lead him into my office. 

"please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable," I said. He shook and bounced his leg nervously. 

"So, I hear you've been seeing some people, yeah?" I asked him. He was looking down into the corner in a dissociative manor.

"Yeah, sure do. A man and a girl,"

"Do they have names?"

"Well the man is Jeffery and the little girl is Magritte. They're pretty scary sometimes, they are,"

"How often do you see them?"

"Often enough!" he said with a laugh, his dark grey and white mustache spreading across his face. His expression went from blank and in very deep thought to enthusiastic and joyful.

"mainly in the house. But I'll sometimes see 'em when I'm not there. I could be driving to work or cashing a check at the bank, and there they both are, standing there, staring at me!" he paused, still bearing the same hole-filled grin. "But they do far more than stare, that's for sure!"

"Do they ever threaten you or harm you in any way?"

"Oh no, but they do like to move things around the house. Some mornings I'll go into the kitchen and one of the drawers is all the way open, and each time that happens it's always the same one. But that's not all! In the night, around three in the morning, I will wake up from a terrible nightmare about murder and suffering, very dark, and I'll hear footsteps, like someone is walking upstairs near my bedroom and slamming doors. It's so loud in fact, that it gets me out of bed, and when I go to look, nobody is out there and all the doors are shut!" I wrote that down, too. Visual and auditory hallucinations.

The expression on his face changed once more. This time, however, it was not exuberant. It was a look of terror. He looked straight at the cream-colored wall, his eyes now perfect circles.

"They're here now, both of 'em!" he said shakily, pointing a trembling arm at the wall. I looked over, KNOWING I wouldn't see anything, but then I too felt a rush or terror come over me. Closest to me was a short little girl with long curled hair and a light pink and white dress. To her right was a tall dirty-looking man with similar facial hair as James, and upon his head was a battered up grey hat. They were standing there, completely still, just staring at James.

"Don't you see 'em?" I didn't answer. I couldn't speak. I was in shock.

when I finally got home that night, I was exhausted. I ate my microwave spinach alfredo and went straight to the bathroom to wash the makeup off my face. I went into the bathroom, closed the door and ran the water until it was at a comfortable temperature, and then proceeded to wipe off all of the concealer, mascara and other makeup that I had all over my face. The once completely white cloth was now covered in splotches of purple black and bronze. My face was buried deep into the soothing damp cloth when I heard a blood-curdling crash coming from the kitchen. I burst out of the bathroom and discovered pots pans and silverware scattered all over the kitchen and dining room area. I quickly began to clean up. Did someone break into the house? I wondered. But that's impossible. I would've heard them! My alarm would've gone off!

It was true. My house isn't very big. One story, three bedrooms and two bathrooms along with tile flooring. Not to mention the fact that I have a top notch security system, and if anyone tried to break in, I would know about it.

I continued to put away the pots and pans from the floor when I heard the light in the bathroom loudly click off, and the door slam shut. I frantically searched the house for a possible intruder. I checked every possible hiding place, even the oddest ones. No one but me was in the house.

I stood in the hall nearest the bathroom, trying to calm down. That's when the light in the bathroom started to flip on and off, making a loud click each time. I decided to call it a night. I went into my room and shut the door, neglecting to finish picking up in the kitchen or brush the spinach out of my teeth. I fluffed up all of my pillows and blankets as much as I could without being smothered to death and grabbed a romantic novel out of my side table drawer to put me in a better place physicality, mentally and emotionally. surely that would work. I would get sucked into the steamy story, but then a part of my mind would awaken. the part of me that was still terrified. I would remember my place, look up from the book and peer around to make sure all was well. Then I would read some more.

Before I knew it, I had gotten through six and a half chapters. I looked over at the clock. Three whole hours had gone by already. I put the book away and turned off the lamps. Almost immediately after the lights were off, I started to feel afraid again. Thoughts of the session played in my mind. I nestled into my cushy bed, trying to shake it all off. Finally, I was able to go to sleep.

I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking from a horrific nightmare. I sat up and looked over at my alarm clock. The red glowing numbers read 3:12 am, but it felt like I had been sleeping forever.  Though I was shaken from my bad dream, a new terror entered my mind as I came to the realization that I would have to be ready for work in four hours. I groaned and lied back on my side. Just as I shut my eyes, I could hear footsteps coming from the living room. My eyes popped open. I lied there motionless, holding my breath. The sound of someone walking across the cold hard tile echoed. It grew closer and closer to the door. My heart pounded in my chest. then it stopped. I continued to lay motionless in those few quiet moments. I convinced myself that I only heard that because I was halfway asleep and my mind was running rampant. I was only freaking myself out.

I had started to doze off again when I felt the bed go down behind me. It creaked as if someone were sitting on the edge. My eyes popped wide open again, and my breath, along with the rest of my body ceased up. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my own heart pounding away. Then, the bed creaked again, like whoever was sitting there had decided to lay down. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I felt a ghastly masculine hand go up my back, and I could feel and hear a man breathing on my neck. Now, able to move and scream, I jumped out of bed and turned on both lamps. I had been in pure darkness before, except for the blue and white moonlight from the window. But once the lights were on, I found that my room and bed were completely empty. The lights remained on for the rest of the night.

I had no sleep. I sat on my bed, eyes fully open, watching the sun come up..If that wasn't enough, I watched a glass rise from the counter and shatter on the floor, and was unable to find my keys for ten minutes before discovering that they had mysteriously left their rightful place on the shelf to the sofa, where they never belong. I didn't do my job very well at all that day. I can't say that I gave my patient, Marie the correct medication for her Bipolar 1 

I'm a psychiatrist. I'm supposed to have the answers for everything. That's what I was trained to do. But I had no explanation for what happened.

I learned that there was nothing wrong with James and I. I learned that I really don't have the answers for everything, and realized how arrogant I was before. I also learned that maybe mental health doesn't thrive solely on the lack of disturbance, but also keeping it open, and accepting new, stranger realities.