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Retirement of the Mind
Regression, to move backward; the opposite of progression, to move forward.
Back and forth
Back and forth.
Move back to where it all began when man finds his, woman and they live happily ever after, succeeding their separation, divorce, split; there are many ways to word it. Sacred vows become, never again, words said apparently in jest are answered by screams of anger.
Screams of anger are answered by a semi-collected concerned individual whose motivation of coming is to make sure the outcome isn’t going to harm any involved peoples.
Shelia McAllister was a woman who had not a stable moment, a rather paranoid unpredictable woman who had lost an immense amount of life, and gained nothing in return. Now, there are many solutions to any given problem, some better than others. If one took a peek into the pathetic existence of Shelia McAllister they would find out that she gave temporary solutions to permanent problems. The solution to having her husband leave her due to her unstable disposition was an unhealthy amount of sleep along with a lacking in her hygiene and nutritional needs. Now, if a person had a constant feeling that someone or something was watching every movement, every decision they were about to make, it would be reasonable to say one would want such feelings to leave, or they’d find out something is indeed following them about, acknowledge it, and rid of it. Shelia McAllister thought she could drown her troubles in hard whiskey; and the state of mind that she found herself in lacked the shadows, the voices, everything that she felt was there, but actually wasn’t. She was absolutely numbed, terrifyingly, to her core.
Imagine an apartment that once upon a time had all the feeling of warmth, cozy feelings of home, a safe haven for dreams and aspirations. Then all of a suddenly one finds the feeling of… loneliness. All that one has is their self, left to wallow in the pit that has become reality, the pit which has become life. Clothing nonchalantly strewn in all directions, a lack of effort is apparent as soon as any set of eyes roam over the establishment, a rather pathetic existence.
Shelia wanted immensely to get out of this state of life- whether she was consciously aware of it or not, she did- but now everything was thrown into murky depths that she couldn’t see past. Instead of moving forward she went backwards and sat around feeling sorry for herself, and her situation. Shelia turned into a lackadaisical human being with no care for the future which seemingly never comes.
“Ms. McAllister?” an urgent voice breathed out on the other side of the telephone.
“If this is a telemarketer…”
“Oh, Shelia,” chuckled the voice on the other end.
After this uncanny phone call Shelia pondered and pondered, but couldn’t think of a reason for such a peculiar call. After picking through her brain a while she gave up returning to her seemingly dead stupor on the couch.
Growing in an upper middle- class family, Shelia had been a normal individual growing up, quite awkward, nonetheless fairly normal. The lack of social skills that Shelia had did not go unnoticed by her peers who ignored her petty being. The fact that she was ignored did not go unnoticed by Shelia who was left wondering why she didn’t have as many friends as him or her, thus making her rather self conscious, self consciousness escalated to a wondering of “what hell is wrong with everyone”, since of course there was no way that she wasn’t “normal”, so everyone else being different than her “normal” is the present state of Shelia’s mind.
“You missed the appointment, now I have to come to you. Thirty minutes, stay put.”
The voice on this phone call was the same as the last one, minus the obvious anxiety that was in the voice of the first caller. If one were to ask Shelia she would frantically tell you that a robot just called her. Why? Well, that would be a very good question. Shelia ran to the door and locked the deadbolt.
What appointment was this that she’d missed? Doctors don’t make house calls nowadays, and she didn’t go to the doctor often, except for that time she had strep throat…at least that is what Shelia would say if one were to ask her. She ran to a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of Jack’s, sprinted to the couch, sat and stared at the door as if death were paying her a complimentary visit.
No more gulping, Shelia began to drink as if that whiskey was a magic serum that could rewind time and fix all the mistakes that are in her life, fix all the mistakes that she finds in herself…
A single gentle rap at the door, a stranger was outside the door. Shelia was done with this, she was sick of this cowardice that enveloped her. Walking to a drawer in the kitchen, that had a number of rodents that may or may not have infested all the food within the sad little apartment, she grabbed out the butcher’s knife with every intention of using it if needed.
Two succeeding knocks, a bit more force behind them, a bit more of that urgency.
Life had dealt Shelia these cards, these useless cards that have brought her, what? Nothing, absolutely nothing except a nice long life of isolation, now someone was attempting to come into her house, someone she didn’t know…
It could be all those people from her past coming to rid of her, or it could be her family; they haven’t talked to her since the divorce they thought of her as the loser of the family, she’d never accomplished anything in her entire life. She walked up to the door and positioned the knife.
“Shelia, are you in there?”
The exact same voice from the phone….
“NOOOOO, I’m not in here!” screamed Shelia; she was no longer in a state of rational thought.
It’s strange, trapped is one of the few emotions that one’s whole being fears, from the ears to the toes, as well ones whole being works together to escape, trapped.
Unfortunately not everyone is logical when it comes to “escape”. There are many ways that Shelia could escape; the emergency fire exit for one would be a rather logical way of escape. She could call the police, it is their job to protect the people, she could call her neighbor and have them tell the person outside to leave her alone, she could…
Thrust the knife into her stomach.
So now Shelia would never know that she had missed three of her appointments with her counselor; who would eventually get into her apartment and find her corpse. Indeed, trapped can make people find some very irrational solutions.
Remember now, there are always many solutions to one problem.