Thursday, January 05, 2006

A Fractured Mind
Current mood: contemplative

NOTE: Todays blog is a fictional work based on the way someone with a dissasociative disorder MAY veiw daily life.

What is this softness?

Like a dance. Step. Another. Step. That's it now. Slowly, together, and spin. My girlish tendancies rejoice, and it is as if I can hear them calling "Christine" as they beckon to me on the dance floor...

Like a floating memory they drift slowly by..satin and brocade swish through my mind..

As I question, this image, this song, this belonging.. is it real? What is it that causes this mind to conjure images such as this upon the vibrations which assuage the ears.

One can see the tranquil brilliance and peace of the composer. Who was this man, that we call Beethoven? What was his intention of Moonlight Sonata? Was it for the love he felt for his wife? A despair perhaps, that only he will ever understand.

I sit here, and question. My tea has gone cold, but yet I drink. I drink to the fact that it is reality, which for some, has gone cold as well. I wonder, would one realize when this has happens or is reality or sanity subjective. What is it so disturbing about insanity that drives us to label it, as if it were something to run from, to wage war on, to lock up in a closet with grandmothers' heirlooms so that the truth will never be shattered. Careful, if you can, for it is as fragile as the veins of a luna moths wings. Grasp it, but do not hold too tight, for it may only stretch so far.

I sip my tea, and bring the pen to the paper again. The shutters have been closed, and the fireplace is warm against my face. The armchair encompasses me with its velvet coverlet, red like the blood of Romeo and Juliet's despair. I draw my cold teacup nearer. Sip. It goes down easily, in fact the cool mint flavor traces an icy path through my throat and dances down through to my stomach.

I watch the dancing flames. Do they too have merit? Do they have a conciousness of their own? I say, I think, nay, I feel, as if they must for the graceful yet alacritous flames seem to program the movement so finitely.

Perhaps some would consider the mind which I hold to be insane. Others, simply would see it as without ties to concepts, or realities.

I hear the voice calling, and a sharp ice like pain in my heart. No! Not Yet! Do not take me from this place.... It is my Sanctuary....

Yet I feel my mind being pulled back, I see the tunnel vision as everything is becoming farther and farther away.. the room is spinning ...HELP for the love of god, I grab on to the chair desperately and attempt to control my thoughts as I feel myself slipping..... What is this warmth? This ...dizziness...

Well, good evening.

Pardon? Am I feeling ok? Just Fine. Why do you ask?
Why sir, you joke! Nay, I spake not of the things you say. You must be mistaken. Who are you , anyways?

Me? I am Julius. And you?

I do not remember you, good sir. Still, It is pleasant to meet you.

Welcome to my study. I say, would you like to view my trophies? This one, from Africa on our last voyage. She fought a good fight, and the ivory will bring a pretty penny some day.

On Reality? My thoughts? Well, reality sir, is simply what we see around us. Look, I can touch this desk. This is reality. I can hear your voice. This is reality. What is not reality, of that I am sure, is that which we may not touch or see or smell. If I cannot sense it, how may I determine what is real?

Where did I get this cup of tea? Cold tea, horrid. Maid! Fetch me another cup of tea, and hot. And this time do not give me mint, you know it makes my stomach ache.

Now, sir, if I beg you, I must get back to my work and....

My word, what is this warmth? Goodness, open a window. I need air. Nay, i will be ok. Just a simple...

Heya mister.
Whats your name?

My names Bobby. I'm Eight Years Old, this year. Well, I will be.
I never seen you before, whats your name?

Hey Mister, Wanna play a game? Lets play hide and seek. Ill close my eyes, and you hide somewhere in this room..

What? I closed my eyes but you are still there?! I can hear you.. I am frightened, I want to go home! There are others here too.. I can hear their voices.. I am scared, I want to go home.. please, stop talking, PLEASE STOP SCREAMING. I can't stand it, I want to go home.....I ...I .. feel strange.. mister.. I think I am going to be sick...

Whew.

I'm sorry about that, kind sir. Please allow me to powder my nose. I must have had a bit of a spell there. I felt rather faint, and then here I am on the floor with you tending to me. Do not worry, Christine is a tough one! One fainting spell will not keep me down!

All that thinking on reality and what it is must have just addled my poor mind... I beg, please allow me to rest a moment....