TRAPPED in my Mind - 82k - Judging

I am...

driven by my unconscious	50.0%	[ 39 ]
in control of my action	23.1%	[ 18 ]
a set of responses dictated by the environment	26.9%	[ 21 ]
Total Votes:			[ 78 ]

[Spectrum Ghost]

So no huge rush then. Whew! ^.^;

[CoffeCat24]

Username: Guilty by Dissociation
Word Count: 1,512
Title of Entry: A Pathetic's Affect
Entry:

"What did you say?" I asked her again.

"I said- You seem angry about that."

"That's a stupid question." My tone was very sharp.

She sat across from me, sitting in her stupid paisley armchair. She had pinstripe pants on and dumb strappy heels. They were clicking against the table as her heel jiggled up and down. Every now and then her head would tilt to the left in an imploring manner. Her ugly straight black hair just skimming the tops of her shoulders. My blood simmered.

"What! Why are you always staring at me?!" Her eyes bore holes into my skin. She was testing me. She was laughing at me.

"Your face is getting a bit red. Are you sure you're all right?" Her voice was so innocent. It made me sick.

I was burning up. Intense waves of hot air washed over me like I was in a sauna. They seeped under the collar of my shirt and made me sweat. I started to fidget, pulling my jacket away from my neck and fanning myself with my pathetically small hand. I was too hot. Something must be wrong.

"I'm hot."

"You're not hot. It's cold in here. You're simply anxious."

"Open a window." I was too hot. I couldn't breathe.

"You're not hot. You're nervous."

My heart started racing. Why wouldn't she help me?! And then it hit me. The fire in my flesh was smothered. Relief. Fresh air seeped into my skin like a sponge plunged into a sink of cool water. The heat was leaving. I stopped fanning myself. Yet my lungs were still constricted. They lay dormant in my body completely oblivious to the cool fresh air pouring in through the room from some unknown source. They felt deflated, like two empty balloons buried in my rib cage. I tried breathing deeper. Faster. How can a heart beat so fast and lungs be so still? I was shaking. My stomach ached, turning in on itself. A tingling sensation tickled the tip of my nose and spread through my body then across my shoulders and down my arms, through my veins- into the tips of my fingers.

"My... M-."

"What's wrong?"

"My arms. Won't. Move." I said through exaggerated breaths. She looked at me inquisitively for a moment.

"You're having a panic attack. It's okay. You're perfectly fine. You're simply overwhelmed."

I tried to move my arms once again. They stay curled against my chest like a fetus. I was broken. No. I was okay. Was I okay? I knew I was okay. I would get through this. It was that psychiatrist, she always made me this way. She brought out these emotions that festered holes through the marrow in my bones. I needed control. I always needed control. The tears came then. A very sudden and abrupt flow of emotion. Salty water spilled from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I was going to explode. There was too much. Too much feeling.

"IT'S TOO MUCH!" The words came from my mouth in a pitch that sounded foreign in my own ears.

"Calm down, right now." Her voice was elevated but calm- predictable.

"I WON'T! WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO COME HERE... I CAN'T HANDLE-" I stopped as she raised a hand in protest. It seemed too natural to obey her.

"You can handle it. You can. You like coming here. You know you do."

I shook my head. It was less of a sign of denial as it was an attempt to clear the fog compressing the inside of my skull. It was an instantaneous reaction. The panic melted away and was replaced by a peculiar feeling. It was almost as if I was a brain in a jar; a specimen to be studied and poked. I realized I was folded up against myself on the couch. My hands were clenched against my chest, pulling at the fabric of my sweatshirt. I had torn holes in the sleeves where my thumbnails had dug into my fists. I let them fall to my sides. I put my feet back on the ground from their atypical position between the cushions of the couch. The affirmation she gave was calming. Her words always knew how to sooth me in the best way. My breathing regulated and I settled into the couch quite comfortably. I looked over at her in my repose and admired her hair. It was nice today. Shiny.

"I'm sorry I acted up before. I must've been a little on edge… How are your kids?" It was a poor attempt at making amends for my previous outburst but I cared little.

I looked towards her desk under the light streaming in through the cracks in the window shades. It was a beautiful sight. A picture popped up on her screen saver. Two little girls in matching jumpers stood grinning through the photo. Their eyes lit with the innocence of youth.

"How old are they again?" I wondered aloud.

"Five and seven."

"They're adorable."

"Thank you." She reached down and picked up a hand-painted mug filled with swirling cream-colored liquid. She brought it to her lips and paused.

"You're not thirsty are you? We've been here a while. After that episode you must be dying of thirst."

I swallowed. There was a lump in my throat. She was right. I was completely parched from the panic attack. My tongue crackled in arid protest. The heat seemed to be coming back again. My skin felt taught. It was pulling away from itself. I needed liquid. I opened my mouth to speak but dry air came out instead. I brought a cracked hand up to my throat in a gesture of alarm. She stood up calmly and made her way to the other side of the room. I watched her in disbelief. She was moving so slow. There was no sense of alarm about her gait, not even a slight haste. She meandered over to the table in the corner, on top of which, perched a pitcher of water and clear plastic cups. The wait was agonizing. Why was she taunting me so? I thought surely I would die. I watched helplessly as she casually tried to peel two plastic cups apart. I watched the water slowly makes its way to the top of the spout and pour over into the cup with a tantalizing gurgle. Then she turned and headed back towards me, who was wasting away on the couch, like a snail in a hot skillet.

"Here, have some water." She was handing me a plastic cup. By now my vision was fading in and out. My hand inched forward in my blurry paradigm, reaching out in a pathetic attempt to take the cup from her. If I didn't get liquid soon I knew my body would shrivel up into a skeletal husk.

And then, for no particular reason what-so-ever, she was lowering the cup. Don't! I wanted to shout. I need that! Again my voice was silent. There was just a soft exhale of stale air, a prize squeezed from the pits of two petrified lungs. She sat down in her chair.

"In ten seconds. You're going to wake up and you will forget." She said calmly.
I tried to cry out for help.

"10."
Why was she doing this?!

"9"
LISTEN TO ME. I'M DYING!

"8"
It was happening. I was dying. My vision turned black like a television being unplugged. There was a bright flash of light… A soft buzz… and then nothing.

"7"

She was still counting. I was alive? Her patient was dying in front of her and she was counting down. To my death I assumed.

"6...5-"

I opened my eyes and blinked twice. I was slumped in my seat. My palms covered in a thin layer of sweat. I wiped them on my jeans. The light outside the window was casting long shadows across the room. My throat was sore and my head hurt. I looked up at her. She was sitting in her armchair. She always did. She never moved and she never talked except for a brief goodbye at the end of our sessions. If you could call staring at each other for an hour a session. She was smiling. I smiled back.

"Why did you smile?" She asked.

"It seemed the polite thing to do." I answered back.

"Are you happy?"

Why did she ask me this? She always asked me this. As if she expected some miraculous recovery after every single session of our little stare-downs.

"No." I was never happy. I was never sad. Never angry. Never afraid. Never anything. She knew this.

"I'll be looking forward to our meeting next week."

"Thanks, I will too." I said this genuinely. As far as my apathetic existence could comprehend, the days following an appointment with Dr. Languor were measurably easier. I looked toward the future. Or perhaps a day when I could feel like other people, to be happy or angry... to feel the pang of hunger and thirst. That was freedom.

[The Solarised Night]

lurk lurk

[Eternal Complex]

Guilty by Dissociation

Woot!!~~~ This story is epic!!~~~~ I wish there was a bit more though >////<
loved it though ;3

[CoffeCat24]

Eternal Complex

Guilty by Dissociation

Woot!!~~~ This story is epic!!~~~~ I wish there was a bit more though >////<
loved it though ;3

Thank you! I'm glad someone enjoyed it. (let alone understood it) You kind of have to search for patterns to understand what's going on. 3nodding I was a bit worried it insisted upon itself too much.

[Eternal Complex]

Guilty by Dissociation

Eternal Complex

Guilty by Dissociation

Woot!!~~~ This story is epic!!~~~~ I wish there was a bit more though >////<
loved it though ;3

Thank you! I'm glad someone enjoyed it. (let alone understood it) You kind of have to search for patterns to understand what's going on. 3nodding I was a bit worried it insisted upon itself too much.

lol, no worries ;3
the more disconnected, the more I usually understand....guess meh way of thinking is similar to yours? XD

[Yonder-chan]

Guilty by Dissociation

Hello! : D Thanks for the entry! I'll post it up front.
And I'm excited to read it just from seeing that Eternal Complex said it was awesome, hehe. xD

Also also, I love your username. It's so cool!

[Yonder-chan]

Also, it still amazes me how much people (according to the poll) take a psychoanalytic viewpoint. Goodness. xD

[BeyondeBirthday]

This prompt is so cool! And right up my alley~

I'll most likely post something within the coming week!

When does this contest close?

[piggg]

Username: Piggg
Word Count: 2616
Title of Entry: In the Fugue
Entry: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OJCN6IgB0O4hLcjY2SiVh8_UZggj4e2o5ZBCfohTfEM/edit

Trying out posting via GoogleDocs for the first time. Hope this works.

Also, when does this contest close?

[Eternal Complex]

Yonder-chan

Also, it still amazes me how much people (according to the poll) take a psychoanalytic viewpoint. Goodness. xD

lol, it's likely that's the reason most of them are part of this contest...including meh of course ;3

btw, I didn't see mine up crying crying crying

[Yonder-chan]

BeyondeBirthday

This prompt is so cool! And right up my alley~

I'll most likely post something within the coming week!

When does this contest close?

March 1st. Glad to see you're interested. : D

[Yonder-chan]

Eternal Complex

I haven't added it because last time I checked it was below the word limit. xD I didn't know if you had edited it yet or not, haha. If you have, I'll definitely add it to ze front. : D

[Yonder-chan]

piggg

Username: Piggg
Word Count: 2616
Title of Entry: In the Fugue
Entry: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OJCN6IgB0O4hLcjY2SiVh8_UZggj4e2o5ZBCfohTfEM/edit

Trying out posting via GoogleDocs for the first time. Hope this works.

Also, when does this contest close?

The link doesn't work for me. D:
It ends March 1st. : D
Would it be a problem to paste it here in the thread? xD

[piggg]

Yonder-chan

The link doesn't work for me. D:
It ends March 1st. : D
Would it be a problem to paste it here in the thread? xD

Sure, I can do that.