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You feel
pressure from all directions. You don’t understand from where it
has come. You complain to anyone who is willing to listen, but
nobody offers helpful advice. You become listless and restless.
Your eyes won't stop moving, following everything that is going on
around you. Suddenly, while interacting with those around you, your
train of thought is derailed. You are sure they're talking amongst
themselves, perhaps they are talking to you, or maybe not. Your
head pivots from one to another, but you can't figure out what it is
they are talking about. Everything sounds like gibberish to you,
words without meaning.
You are
trying to figure out what's going on, what's wrong. You don't
realize that something is wrong with you. Those around you
are whispering. They have noticed something is not right with you.
They ask why you are staring and why you look so confused.
Time goes by,
minute by minute, second by second. Your head spins faster and
faster jumbled with thoughts, the voices spewing from the television
mix with them. Suddenly you have this feeling that people are
talking about you and to you, but you have no idea what they are
saying. Neither do you understand why they are talking about you.
The worst is yet to come. At some point, all you want is to go to
the living room and watch television. You stare at the screen, only
to find out the Dow Jones Index crashed. Then, you realize that
since your earnings in your bank account are fixed by the Dow Jones
rate, those reports must have something to do with them.
You surf to
the National Geographic channel. The lion looks more ferocious than
ever. You wonder if you were bullying it more than usual during
that last visit at the zoo.
Every channel
you watch, every word uttered, is about you. The fear keeps
bubbling, but you can't locate its source. From time to time, you
will input a word about what you have been going through. Your
loved ones seemed more concerned by the moment.
It’s night;
time for bed. You go to the bedroom, wider awake than ever. You
toss and turn. Hours go by, and you are still unable to fall
asleep; thoughts are racing inside your head and drive you up the
wall.
You are
daydreaming of clouds, of birds twittering in the background. You
can swear the clouds are in fact angels. The biggest one assumes
the image of God. It must be a revelation.
Your wife
wakes you up, asking you to lie down on the living room couch. Once
there, she gives you a sleeping pill. You are, of course, refusing
to take the pill and can’t understand what she is fussing about.
She is begging you to take the medication, but in her pleas are in
vain. Then, she decides to call your
psychologist. She prattles on
for a few minutes, describing the case. After that, she hands you
the receiver. The voice on the other end of the line sounds
familiar and soothing. She’s trying to talk you into taking the
pill, promising that it will not hurt you. Your voice sounds shaky
as you explain to her how scared you are. She tries calming you
down again. Finally, you give in and take the pill. Apparently
that doesn’t help either, and you keep tossing and turning in bed.
The night
crawls ever so slowly. The horrible thoughts keep on racing inside
your head; twittering of birds, children’s whistles, which must be
coming from under the bedroom window. You start thinking that
perhaps the woman lying next to you is no longer your wife, since
her sister’s soul replaced hers overnight.
The morning
comes; you are ordered around, much like soldiers given direction by
their superior officers. But in this case, family members are giving
the orders. You obey without really understanding what they want,
but you still brush your teeth, wash your face and get dressed. Your
wife packs a small bag, and you’re off to the
hospital.
Writen by Ronen David ©
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