M. Aline

Negativity. It lies all around us. Miniature black holes in the sky waiting to swallow us whole. I flew towards one once just to verify it. It’s an everyday battle to choose what’s positive. That’s something that is continuously proven to me day after day. Even more so on days like today. Trying to resurface memories that weren’t quite there had to be one of the biggest struggles I was facing. I often wondered if this is what it felt like for those who could no longer remember anything. I had a theory that much of people’s forgetting was due to an unknown substance trailing through the air, but even my own memory deceives me. How could I be so sure? The truth is, I cannot be.

Being back in this room again, I found myself agitated and ready to be back under my warm comforter. These sessions were taking a toll on me. Every day was different. Some days, there was excruciating pain in attempting to remember. Other days, I was fully energized and in good spirits. Today did not start out as well as I was hoping for it to. Not only did I spill half a cup of coffee and burn my hand, but I also forgot where my keys were and ended up having to call up a cab only to find the keys in my purse merely two minutes later.

Laying on the same velvet green couch, I rubbed my temple in frustration. As my psychoanalyst walked through the door, Ellison followed not too shortly behind her with a conflicted expression written on his face. Lucy released a sigh of exasperation as she sat down on the stool across from me. “Lilah?” My eyes met hers reluctantly as I knew she could see every emotion rolling through. 

Her own reflected a pool of guilt in knowing what she was about to do. “How are you doing today?” I looked back up at the ceiling, 

“It’s been a rough morning so I’m just ready to get this over with.” 

“I understand. I will try my best to make this quick, okay?”

I mumbled, “Okay.”

She rolled her stool over to me and informed me, “I requested my son, Ellison, to watch in today as he will soon be taking over for me. Are you comfortable with that?”

To be honest, I would be more comfortable with Ellison as my psychoanalyst, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. He seemed to care more about my mental state than his mother. Though she seemed to feel guilty for what she put me through each session, I felt as if she was more curious about the results and how it would affect her medical trial. She didn’t understand the effect the analysis left because she had never experienced it herself.

Realizing I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t answered for a good minute, I quickly said, “That’s fine.” And she began the process. Attaching two electromagnets to my temple, she hooked me up to the monitor and clicked the button on her scope. Immediately, I felt as if an electric current had hit my body and began to flow through my veins. I grimaced slightly at the pain I began to experience. A kaleidoscope of colors overtook my vision and flashes of memories weaved in and out like a basket that was being handcrafted. Then it went black before an image of my father came to mind. With his rosy cheeks of fury, I suddenly desired to fall back down the rabbit hole of yesterday’s nightmare.

“You should respect me, Lilah. It wasn’t just your mother who raised you.” He yelled at me, and I could feel the wind of every word slap me across the face. “I do respect you! What I don’t understand is how you can say you were a part of raising me when you were in Arkansas seven months out of the year instead of being home with your family.” 

My face turned as my right cheek began to sting. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. At this point, I could care less that your fiancé didn’t show up at my door begging for my permission. He’s losing more than he’s gaining by marrying a young girl like you.”

The voice of my father swiftly faded as did my vision. I was then drawn into a strange, purple fog. White began to stream down the middle causing it to slowly turn into a lavender tone. Water began to fall and before I knew it, I couldn’t breathe.

Then warmth, like that of sunshine, grew like a puddle in the palm of my hand. An inviting tone whispered, “Be still.” And my eyes shot open. Ellison’s eyes were filled with worry, his hand gripping mine tightly. Meanwhile, his mother’s eyes were filled with amusement as she quickly grabbed her notepad and began to write down what she had seen on the monitor.

“We have the diagnosis,” She stated as Ellison removed the electromagnets and helped me to sit up. I could hardly speak, my voice cracked as I questioned, “What have you diagnosed?”

“Dissociative fugue. Your father wasn’t around much for your childhood and growing up years but tried to assert himself into your life as an adult. You got engaged but because you weren’t close with your father, you chose not to tell him until it got closer to the wedding. 

My assumption is that he had never laid a hand on you until that day, and something must’ve happened later that day with your fiancé that caused you to subconsciously push it to the back of your brain. This had led you into dissociative fugue—also known as amnesia.”

I felt Ellison’s eyes on me as I slowly tried to process everything. He then leaned over and said, “It’s okay for you to not understand everything now. You’re making progress which means it shouldn’t be too much longer before you’re able to fully unravel what’s withholding your memories.”

I gave him a small nod and smile before looking back at Lucy who was nodding her head, “Now that we have some clarity, we can start moving forward. Ellison will be taking this case now so whichever method he chooses in moving forward, I know, will be best suited for you. Even if I don’t exactly agree with it.” She gave Ellison a look on that last sentence and then stood. 

“My best wishes for you, Lilah.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” I spoke as she walked out the door.

Ellison sat across from me and took a deep breath before saying, “For Friday’s session, we are going to visit your ex-fiancé.”

Panic quickly rose and nestled in my bones. Deep down, I knew something grave had happened. There’s a reason why I blocked it out. And to think I may have to relive a memory just to recover it? That was terrifying. That’s if my ex-fiancé would even co-operate. The possibility that he could lie his way out of this was very possible. I couldn’t even remember him. How would he feel about that?

“Wonderful.” I breathed out.

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Part three or no?