Prologue
Prologue
The White Room
Sonia giggled as she ran her fingers along the narrow scars that lined her arms. Each puckered scar that followed was cleverly created to be slightly longer than the last. Towards the middle of Sonia’s right arm, the completed work of scars began to taper once more, starting a perfect mirror of the first half of scars, with the final scar ending ten centimetres below her shoulder.
Marvelling at her work, Sonia considered where to continue her project once her left arm was complete.
They are at their prime when the scabs are just beginning to itch. A healthy sign of healing and progress of my work thought Sonia. She continued her conversation, speaking aloud to herself. “I love looking at them when the scab has just come off. They look so pink and pretty...and still a little sensitive.”
Sonia paused to fight back a tear, “The past, the past. ....shhhhh.... don’t cry... don’t cry, just forget..forget”, she whispered as she pushed feelings of frustration to the pit of her stomach. But the battle was lost, and Sonia began to sob with frustration as she recalled her past.
Two years ago, Sona threw her graduation cap in the air with her friends, celebrating high school graduation. Taking a gap year before starting university and a break from routine, Sonia immersed herself in books of philosophy and history. She would lose herself in academic intellect and find herself arguing in deep discussions on her own.
There were cold evenings when she would curl up in front of the fireplace on a vintage rocking chair and read tattered fairy tale books she discovered at a musty laneway bookshop. The detailed illustrations that covered the pages of the leather-bound books almost seemed to move as she turned them. In contrast, the zephyr from each turning page filled her room with a sweet cedar scent. Reading about strange mythical creatures and human-like beings began to lead her imagination astray. Her mind began to dance between the lines of reality and imagination. Shadows became dark figures that tugged at her sanity, while the texts of the old books gave her knowledge that made her doubt reality.
Months passed, and Sonia began collecting and drying out herbs and crushing and mixing bark from trees to create perfumed tinctures and emollients. Sonia shared her knowledge of healing treatments and created a community of followers on YouTube. Her detailed tutorials on making skin smoother, youthful and plump were shared among influencers on social media. But her stories about the whispering of trees and claims of multi-dimensional travel were the most alarming for her parents. It started discussions and voiced concerns of a severe mental health decline.
“No, you don’t understand!” cried Sonia in frustration. “You have not read these books and the secrets they hold! Have you tried to read them and attempt the meditations! My followers on YouTube can tell you the results, and they believe me!”
Sonia’s parents looked at her in despair. “These books are simply Sonia fairytales with hand-drawn ornate and detailed drawings. They probably should be on display in a museum.”
“These are not simply books!” snorted Sonia. “The pages have been made from scared trees, and when flipped, the zephyr produces a language that I have been attempting to decipher.”
“See!” exclaimed Sonia with urgency as she grabbed a book from the floor and flipped it in front of her parents to create a light breeze.
A week later, Sonia lay slumped against a bed. Institutionalised and drugged, she couldn’t see a thing in either world. Just the white walls of her simple room and a bed. The sheet-less, plastic-covered mattress was cold in winter and hot and sticky in summer. It was uncomfortable enough to let Sonia know she was still ‘alive’.
“Twelve months have passed, Sonia”, reported the psychiatrist coolly. “Today, I need to complete a report about your progress and recommendations on managing your mental health. This report will be presented to your well-being team next week, Sonia.”
I want you to start by telling me about the elves again, Sonia,” said the psychiatrist.
Groggy, from the cocktail of drugs she was forced to take, made it difficult to form an answer. “I don’t visit them any more. I can’t,” slurred Sonia.
“Why don’t you visit them?” questioned the psychiatrist.
Sonia paused to gather strength to answer. “Because I made it up. I craved the attention of my parents, who were too busy working. They thought a summer every year in the country of my choice would make up for their lack of “family time”. But secretly, I hated it and immersed myself in study at high school. Sure, my final grades were high enough to enter any university. Still, there were other reasons for studying so much than university entry. I did it to make up for the emptiness I always felt. For the love I didn’t get from my parents. Then, when school finished, everything came tumbling down. My parents were not around, and my friends were at university. I thought removing routine would be refreshing and a nice change, but now I wish I never took that gap year.”
Sonia drew a quick breath. “I want to move on with my life. I need to heal. And I can tell you now. I am not going to recover if I am not allowed to think. Get me off at least one of the drugs that you keep on injecting into my body. I need to be awake and able to focus enough to study.”
Sonia gathered more energy to stop the psychiatrist from terminating what seemed to be the usual speech Sonia gave her.
“I don’t want to leave here yet. I’m not ready for that. What’s more, you don’t trust me, I know that. And that is why I want to stay here and begin my degree online. You can watch me, and I can keep coming to these sessions. Just let me at least begin part of my life now. I want friends again. But I can’t have any of these things if I’m not allowed to heal my way.” Sensing she was losing the battle with her meds, Sonia slumped back into her seat.
The psychiatrist looked at Sonia with a poker face. The psychiatrist finally spoke without saying a word for what seemed like hours rather than minutes. “Sonia. I’m pleased you want to move on with your life. You seem quite motivated. You’ve surprised me with your desire to stay longer, considering you’ve wanted to leave since you arrived. I think you have realised you are not quite ready for the world outside but would like to make a start with things beginning here.”
The psychiatrist slightly leaned her body forward as if wanting to tell Sonia a dark secret. “Let me speak to my supervisor about the study. I need to get that approved first, and that will reflect well when I present your mental health report to the well-being team next week. What I CAN do NOW is take you off ONE of your meds so you can focus more. Okay, Sonia. Just one”.
Sonia smiled in relief. “I really think I made a huge step forward today. Thanks for your work!”
“The work was all yours, Sonia”, replied the psychiatrist. “Just keep on working on it.”
Five days later
“You’re looking happy today, Sonia,” said the psychiatrist. “I heard you’ve begun reading again.”
“Thanks. Yes, I have been reading, but there aren’t many interesting books here. You know, I called my parents on Tuesday during phone time. I asked them to bring some books on Seneca or anything related to Stoicism,” said Sonia.
“So what would you like to talk about today, Sonia?” asked the psychiatrist
“Philosophy...?” smiled Sonia.
“Sure, Sonia, I’ll let you begin,” said the psychiatrist. “But tomorrow, it’s back to therapy.”
The conversation flowed effortlessly, but Sonia stifled a yawn towards the end of the 45-minute session. Her eyes drooped as she discreetly checked the time, then looked at the psychiatrist. “I’m sorry to be rude,” Sonia said, her voice laced with fatigue, “But I’m still feeling a little sleepy. Would you mind if I took a short nap?”
The psychiatrist gave the nod to indicate permission to end the session. “Of course, Sonia, but I’d like to continue our philosophy conversation again.”
Filled with exhaustion, Sonia was happy to see her bed even though it was sealed with plastic. The chill of the plastic crept through her clothes, sending shivers through her body. The plastic warmed from Sonia’s body heat, and sleep gradually welcomed her. One final time, she said to herself as she drifted off.
