SexyText - porn stories and erotic novellas

The Gift of Sanity

Please note, I am not a medical expert; I have researched the terms used and hopefully have provided plausible terms.

I choose not to be too descriptive with the appearance of my characters, other than that which is pertinent to the story. When I am reading, I prefer to relate the characters to people I know, which makes them more real to me. Please enjoy!

I write for fun and to provide me with a creative outlet. If you really don't like this story or any of my others, go read something else.

If you have positive feedback, GREAT, THANK YOU! If you have constructive criticism, BRING IT ON. I always welcome opportunities to learn and develop. If you want to be nasty, please FUCK RIGHT OFF! I don't need your negativity, and your comment WILL be deleted.

As a note, my stories are set in the UK; they may have a few activities I believe are much more common in the UK than in other countries.

oooOOOooo

The Gift of Sanity

Dr Miller, I am doing as you have asked today. I am sitting in the dayroom. Michael is here playing with his Lego. Helen is still staring out of the window into the garden. I might walk with her this afternoon as the fresh air and the colourful flowers will help keep me calm. I will stay away from the red flowers as red is a warning colour and as we have discussed in session, warnings remind me of the gift and I need to move on from that if I want to get better and go home, which I do and I feel I am almost ready to go home to Jake.The Gift of Sanity фото

You have asked me to write down the timeline of events which have led to now.

I like the notepad and pen you have given me; the paper is yellow with faint blue lines. I find it very calming. The pen is pale blue and rubber; the ink doesn't flow very well, and sometimes I need to rewrite a part again to make it clear. Nurse Andrews apologised and told me it is because the point is plastic and not metal. She also told me not to press too hard, as the pen will bend in my grip and I may damage the point.

I am having a hard time starting, as the starting point keeps moving.

Where do I start from? Do you want to know how we met? It was at my friend Jessica's twenty-first birthday party. Jake was there as a friend of Jessica's boyfriend. He was so handsome in his dark blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled up two turns, showing his gold watch only when his arm moved.

Or do you think I should start at that night? Or when I first met Clive at work ten years and three months ago? Or do you think it would be better to start when I made that stupid decision which resulted in that contract?

The agreement, which I can still see now. Although it was only verbal between Jake and I, when I think of it, it is very real. It is on yellowing paper with lettering from an old-style typewriter. The lowercase letter r is missing two millimetres from the end, and the uppercase T has a gap in the upright. I can even smell the ink and the paper; they are acrid and old. It makes a noise like a newspaper opening when it appears. Just like Malcolm every morning in the day room when he looks at the Financial Times and mutters about the price of Pork Bellies and Coal. I don't really understand what he means, but he is very animated this morning, so something must have happened to the prices.

I know you have told me not to think of the contract in such realistic terms and to just think of it as a simple conversation to help ground me in this reality.

Sorry, Dr Miller, I need to stop this today as Nurse Andrews is here with my medication. I am getting very good at taking the yellow pill, and Nurse Andrews smiles at me when she sees I have swallowed it. I still have some trouble with the orange one as it is a mix of yellow and red and red is still a warning colour. Could I please have a different colour pill tomorrow?

..........

Dr Miller Note - Ally, this is a good start. I understand about the pen, but we are not allowed to give you a normal pen yet. If you show good progress, we could talk about it in a later session.

We have already covered in our one-on-one sessions how you and Jake met and your early history together, how you worked with Clive for a number of years and built a strong friendship with him. We have also discussed how that friendship developed into more of a work husband and wife scenario.

You have made great progress in understanding how this relationship may have been toxic to your marriage with Jake, resulting in your belief that your choice of gift to Clive when he left for his new job in Canada was acceptable. We have discussed at length how your mindset at the time may have distorted your viewpoint and caused a disjointed understanding of how Jake would react.

I think for this exercise it would be best to start your timeline near the point you decided to have your night with Clive. Talk through your decision, what your thoughts were at the time and how you approached your conversation with Jake.

I look forward to reading that part before our next session so we can review it and discuss it further before you continue with the exercise.

Good work, Ally.

.......

Thank you, Dr Miller, for your comments and for our discussion in this morning's session. I really do think your help is having a good effect on me, and hopefully I will be able to go home soon.

I am very happy today but also quite concerned. Jake visited me in my room earlier; he really lightened my mood after our therapy session. He wore the blue shirt I like, that shows he is trying to placate me and keep me calm. He had his sleeves rolled up. I know it is warm today, but that has to be a sign that he still loves me. He is showing me that he remembers our first meeting. This little sign took my breath away.

He talked about his sister Jo and how she is getting married and hopes I will be well enough to attend. Do you think that may be possible? I haven't seen her in so long it would be good to be there for her. He told me about some other things going on in his life, but I missed the details as I was waiting for him to bring up the contract.

I know you and Jake have both told me that he never intended to use it, but it is still part of the problem. Although I am getting better, I still worry that someday he will tell me he is using his pass, and that hurts. Just the thought of it makes me feel dizzy. Hopefully the dizziness will go away as I get better.

In your note, you asked me to start at the point I decided to give myself to Clive. There is so much more that is important, but I will trust you and give you what you have asked for.

I have told you about how Clive and I became close friends. You used the term 'work husband and wife'. I don't agree with that, as it suggests I was doing something wrong and that the relationship was in some way illicit.

I don't think it was; I mean, I discussed mine and Clive's friendship with Jake, and I don't think I purposely left any detail out. I don't remember Jake telling me to back off from Clive or to be careful.

As I have said, we were very close; I have worked with him for ten years day in and day out. We met outside of work all the time socially, sometimes with Jake as well.

I was devastated the day Clive told me he had accepted a new job with a different company and he would be moving to Canada in a month. I felt upset that I was losing my best friend and scared I would have to face my days alone. But my overriding emotion was anger; he had made this decision without consulting me first. He had kept this part of his life from me, and I had no idea. I could feel my chest wall narrowing, cutting off the available room for me to breathe.

I got up from my desk and ran from the office in tears. The click, click, click of my shoes on the tiled floor was deafening as I ran to the women's bathroom at the end of the hall. I don't know how long I had been in there when I heard the door creak open.

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I held my breath, trying so hard not to be heard. There came a gentle knock, knock at the stall door. Clive's soft voice called, "Ally, are you ok?"

I was trying so hard to be quiet, but he must have heard me. Knock, knock. "Ally, come on out and talk with me, please."

I could feel my face turning purple and my vision blurring, so I gasped for breath. Ashamed, I opened the stall door and glared at him. He shouldn't have been in there; it was the ladies' room, for ladies only. I needed to get him out of there in case anyone saw him.

I dragged him out of the toilet and into an empty classroom. I told him I was upset, as he never told me he was even thinking of leaving. I felt our friendship had been one-sided, and he had not felt the same as I did.

He hugged me as he comforted me. He told me he wasn't looking to leave, but he had been headhunted and was told to tell no one until everything was set. I was still in his arms as we looked into each other's eyes. That was the first time we had ever had 'a moment'; although we had flirted before and laughed at private jokes, we had never really come close to crossing the line.

At that moment, I felt it; we were about to kiss. There was a force pulling us together; it was almost irresistible, but at the last moment we both stopped and pulled apart.

We went to lunch, and he told me all about the new job and his interviews. He said he had handed his notice in that morning and would be looking to leave at the end of the term. That was three weeks, four and a half days away.

Dr Miller, I know he was just a friend, but the hurt and pain I felt knowing he was leaving was real. I was never going to see him again. I felt like a piece of me was missing. I don't really understand: did I have real feelings for him? Can we please talk about this in our next session?

For the next week, I felt lost. Although I was happy for Clive and his new adventure, I felt that I was being left behind. I decided I needed to do something to show him how much I was going to miss him.

Dr Miller, I promise that at the time I was only thinking of a party or a really nice gift. But as time passed, I couldn't think of the perfect gift. I knew Clive didn't really like parties and only went if I twisted his arm. I couldn't think of anything to buy him that would be perfect for his new job or new life without me.

I was crying one night when Jake came home, and as always he rushed to comfort me. Through my sobs, I explained that I had failed to find the perfect gift to give Clive when he left at the end of the following week.

I remember he pulled my head closer to his chest so I could hear his heartbeat. His was a slow, steady ba-bom... ba-bom, while mine was a constant pounding bom, bom, bom. His calm rhythm soothed me. I stayed there until mine almost matched his.

He whispered into my head, "Instead of finding him something, I know you two are close, so maybe plan to do something with him before he leaves, make some final memories you can both share.

Although I am sure he was thinking along the lines of going to the cinema, dinner or crazy golf. His suggestion planted the seed of the idea in my head. It seems strange now to think back and understand that it was Jake's own idea that started everything falling apart.

Dr Miller, I know you will disagree, but when Jake made his suggestion, and following Clive and my almost-kiss, my mind instantly made the leap to have a date with Clive. If he hadn't been so supportive this would never have happened. We would still be together and I wouldn't be here.

Sorry, Dr Miller, writing this out is bringing all of the emotions to the surface again.

Once the thought was in my head, it seemed to take on a life of its own. Because it was Jake's idea, or that was how my brain had twisted it. I was confident that Jake would be happy for me to spend one evening with Clive, to have a final magical date with someone I had loved as a friend for so long.

I did think about how Jake would feel and justified it to myself that although he would be upset, he would see it as just a final gift to a friend. He knew Clive would be gone from my life, with the chances of me ever seeing him again very slim.

I was focused on two things: planning the date with Clive, making it the most fantastic experience we would both remember forever. It never really occurred to me that he might turn me down; I have been told I am quite attractive, and there had been tension between us for quite some time.

The second was how to tell Jake about my gift to Clive. I must, on some level, have thought that this would hurt Jake and wanted to minimise that. I loved Jake to distraction and knew it would kill me if this resulted in our destruction. It is funny looking back that even though I was consciously working to minimise the pain to Jake, I never for even a second thought of not going through with the date.

Nurse Andrews is here now with my tablets. Oh no, the orange pill is still here. It seems even more red today. I hope you can find an alternative soon.

......

Dr Miller Note - Ally, thank you; this was very useful in guiding our latest session. I know you are finding this exercise difficult and emotional; however, its purpose is to help you dissociate from your actions so you can better analyse them and see them in the abstract. Scrutinising each point on the timeline will enable you to find context and help you understand each of your individual actions which make up the whole timeline.

It was quite enlightening in our last one-to-one session to dive deeper into your relationship with Clive and the reasons you felt his leaving impacted you more than you expected. I hope you can see the progress you made and hopefully have a more realistic understanding of the depth of your relationship with Clive.

You are progressing well, and your writing is providing effective talking points for our one-to-one and group sessions.

For the next session, could you please continue from the point where you tell Jake about your suggestion, the events leading up to your date and the evening itself.

Keep up the progress, Ally.

......

Dr Miller, our last session was interesting. I had always thought of Clive as nothing more than a close friend; however, now you have shown me that on some level, at least on my part, the relationship had become more of an emotional affair.

This revelation has hit me very hard, and I am having a difficult time reconciling my thoughts on what has happened and why I let things go so far in the first place.

I am finding this task even more difficult now, as I can see my previous thoughts may have been tainted by my hidden feelings for Clive. It has taken me a whole day after our session to even be able to sit with the yellow paper and blue rubber pen and start writing.

Dr Miller, you have asked me to work through what happened when I told Jake of my proposed date with Clive. This is something I have been struggling with, as I was confused about Jake's reaction until now. I couldn't understand why he was not happy that I had followed his suggestion for a gift.

However, as we discussed in our last session, I may have misconstrued Jake's words into something that I may have wanted. Hopefully, now that I am writing out this exercise, I will be able to better understand my mistake.

Before I spoke with Jake about my plan, I spent time with Clive, explaining what I planned for his gift. He was at first confused and shocked; his first words were, "Have you spoken to Jake about this? I can't believe he would be ok with it."

I feel physically sick now thinking about it; even writing the words down on the yellow paper in front of me with my blue rubber pen is making my hand shake.

I lied! At that point, I hadn't told Jake about the plan; I had taken his innocent suggestion and pushed it to the extreme, so I felt fine telling Clive that Jake was fine with my gift.

Now though, seeing it written down, I cannot believe how stupid I was...

Dr Miller, apologies, but Nurse Andrews needed to help me back to my room yesterday after I broke down crying as I wrote. She gave me some nice, calming green pills last night and this morning, which have helped calm me down enough that I think I can keep writing today.

After I lied to Clive, telling him Jake was happy, he was completely on board with the plan; the change in him was instant. Where before there had been some innocent flirting, now he was openly courting me. I can remember the change in his smile once he understood what I was offering. Thinking on it now, it gives me chills.

Clive now knew we were going to be intimate, so all pretence was lost; in the build-up to the night, he could not talk about anything else. First, he was planning the night: where we would go for dinner, what we would do after and then where we would end the night. He suggested his home, but I told him a neutral setting would be better, so he arranged a hotel room.

Once the date was planned, he became more lecherous; his comments about what he would do to me were crude at times and at other times disrespectful. I think at the time I wondered if I had made a mistake; however, given how Jake reacted, I felt I had backed myself into a corner.

So now I had lied to Clive and told him Jake was happy with the plan; I began to worry about how Jake would react. Clive had been sceptical at first; he was shocked that Jake would allow such a thing to happen.

This caused a small voice to start questioning whether I was doing the right thing. At the time, I was caught up in my own reality of the situation. I thought that as Jake had suggested it, then he wouldn't have any issue with it.

However, that little voice kept up its constant high-pitched assault, making me doubt myself. I felt I was doing a good thing for a friend, so I pushed on regardless. The only quarter I gave the voice was not to tell Jake until it was almost too late for him to do anything about it.

I chose to tell Jake on the Wednesday night before my date with Clive on the Friday evening. I thought that it would give him enough time to ask me questions and make arrangements to do something on Friday, but not enough time for him to stew on it.

I left work as early as I could on Wednesday so I could be home before Jake. I had his favourite dinner cooking, I was wearing his favourite dress and had my hair done how he liked. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Jake to feel relaxed for our conversation. I knew he would say yes, but I didn't want anything to get in the way.

I heard his car on the drive, so I waited just inside the front door for him. He looked tired as he came through the door; his tie was loosened in that sexy way he does. It was the red tie, though; I had hoped for any other colour but red..

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He looked confused when I let go; he asked what the special occasion was. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders "Just want to do something special for my man." I responded.

My eyes kept flicking down to his red tie; it makes him look important. That's why he wears it to work, but it seems to make him more abrupt, as if the redness gives him importance. I tried to look at his collar instead, but the red was still there, bleeding up into his throat. I could feel it pulsing, a heavy, wet pulsing against my dress. Dum, dum, dum! Like a beating drum.

Dr Miller, I am pressing too hard on the blue rubber pen right now. It is bending and turning white in places because the tie in the hallway is too loud.

I wanted everything to go perfectly; I knew he would be fine with my present; however, the voice was still there. It's incessant droning now adopting the same rhythm as that god damn tie.

 

I needed to move away from the noise, so I patted his firm, muscular chest and smiled up at him. "Dinner is ready. There is a beer on the table for you; go and sit down, and I will serve!"

He smiled and started towards the dining room; even as he turned to leave, that tie was taunting me. Once I was alone, I leaned against the wall; the noise from the voice and the tie was almost too much to bear. I was feeling nauseous and frightened, although at the time I had no understanding of why.

Dinner was quiet, with only light family conversation. I needed Jake to be relaxed, well fed and with a couple of drinks in him before I brought up my gift to Clive.

After dinner, I told Jake to go through to the lounge whilst I cleared up. He was adamant he wanted to help, as that was the normal thing he did. I could see he was becoming dubious about my motives, so I accepted his assistance, allowing him to load the dishwasher while I cleared away.

The nerves were setting in now; I was getting a headache from the voice and the thumping of his tie. I couldn't understand why I was nervous; I was sure at that time that Jake would be happy I had found a gift for my friend.

We eventually made our way into the lounge; Jake took his normal chair, and I perched on the edge of the sofa staring at him. He looked so relaxed, even with that red tie pulsing on his chest.

I couldn't take in any more, so I asked him to take his tie off and put it away. I hoped my tone was calm and normal, but I think from the look on his face, my nerves and anxiety bled through. He took off the tie, rolled it up and put it in his pocket. As soon as it was out of sight, my pulse slowed, and the volume of the voice lowered; I was at last able to think again.

I took a slow breath in before I told him I had decided on a gift for Clive. He was interested at first and showed enthusiasm until I told him my gift would be me, for just one night. I explained that I was going on a date with Clive Friday night, the night before Clive left. I told Jake I would return home on Saturday once he had left.

I was confused when Jake just sat still staring at me; even now I can remember that he didn't move at all; he didn't even blink. I expected him to say something; I was prepared to explain further if he wasn't completely happy. I never imagined he would react this way. I started to panic and gabble on that once he left; I would never see him again, so it would only be once. It was only sex, and Jake was my one true love, and nothing would change that.

He blinked once, then told me he had to go out. He got up and, without looking at me, went upstairs to get changed.

A few minutes later, he came back downstairs. I stood rigid to the spot. He must have been doing it on purpose; he wanted to distract me, he wanted to scare me. Why else would he be wearing his RED and blue rugby shirt, jeans and his white trainers with the three RED flashes?

It was like his whole body was pulsing and glowing red. In a feeble voice, I told him not to go but to talk to me. As he glanced at me, I felt an icy blast; I had never seen so much anger held within his eyes before. They were narrowed almost imperceptibly, but the blue of the iris seemed to radiate a cold energy.

As he opened the door, he called back, "I don't know when I will be back!" Then he was gone.

I don't know what happened next, but I woke up draped up the stairs. I had no idea how long I had been there, but it was now dark outside.

I made my way back to the lounge and dropped onto the sofa; confusion and despair ran through every neuron of my mind. I was at a loss as to his reaction; he had not said no, he had not screamed or shouted at me. It was as if he morphed into a heartless machine in the form of my Jake.

His choice of red in his clothing was obviously done to antagonise me further.

At the time, I was still under the impression that it was his suggestion to give Clive this gift. Looking back at it now, I can see that Jake had only meant for me to take him to lunch or buy him a cake, not to prostitute myself.

I now see that I wanted to give away something that was not mine to give. When we married, he gave me his body, mind and soul, and I gave mine to him. By wanting to gift my body to Clive, I was giving away something that I had lovingly already given to my soulmate.

It was late when Jake came back home. I had been curled up on the sofa, lost in how everything had gone wrong; I still couldn't understand why Jake was not happy with my gift.

I was ripped out of my thoughts by the door opening. I had just looked up when I saw Jake standing in the doorway watching me. His eyes were not the cold and unforgiving they had been when he left, but they were not the eyes of my loving Jake.

I sat up slowly, my mind still fuzzy about what had happened. Jake sighed and made his way to his chair, sitting down with a quiet huff.

He looked straight ahead for the longest time; the pulsing from his shirt and shoes was still there but subdued, as was the voice in my head.

The silence between us was deafening. I was just about to speak to stop the silent chorus when Jake slowly turned his head to look at me. I gasped slightly at the drawn look of his face; there was none of the warmth that usually lived there.

He scrutinised me carefully as if trying to read my thoughts; eventually he nodded once. In a quiet, almost whisper, he spoke, "I have been trying to understand what I have done that made you lose respect for me. Have I been a poor husband? Am I not a good lover? Is there something I have missed?"

Tears were running down my cheeks; my darling husband, this perfect man, was wounded. I shook my head, still carrying confusion as to why he thought this way. I told him he was perfect; he was my soulmate.

He seemed to consider my words before speaking again, "If that is so, then why do you need to have sex with another man? Am I not enough for you?"

I was even more confused now; why would he ever think that? I told him he was everything I could ever want or need and that I was just giving Clive a gift, as he had said.

He blinked at me. "What do you mean it was my idea?"

My brain couldn't comprehend why he was confused about this. I told him that I was following his suggestion that instead of buying Clive a present, I should do something for him.

Jake laughed, but there was no humour there; instead, it was the laugh you would find in a horror movie when the main character finally understands the motive of the monster.

He shook his head as if trying to insert a wrong-shaped thought into the right place. "You thought that I meant for you to have sex with him?"

I nodded enthusiastically, hoping he was finally seeing the logic of the argument.

His eyes flamed red as his anger bubbled to the surface, making me twitch involuntarily. "On what fucking planet does that make sense? What I suggested was to take him to lunch or bake a fucking cake, not open your fucking legs for him!"

.....

Nurse Andrews note: Ally became agitated during her writing session today; she has been sedated and allowed to sleep.

.....

Dr Miller, apologies that this is taking longer than normal, but after I wrote about how angry Jake was, Nurse Andrews needed to take me back to my room and give me more green pills. Hopefully I am much calmer today, so I should be able to complete your task.

I am not sure how long I sat staring at Jake, my mind devoid of thought. It felt like his words had forced a restart of my brain, over which I had no control. I think my perceived lack of emotion must have reinforced Jake's wrong opinion of me that I simply wanted to have sex with someone other than him.

Looking at it now, I can see why Jake would think that, but that was the furthest thing from my mind at the time. I wanted to give Clive an evening he would remember for the rest of his life. The sex was secondary to what I saw as the 'Girlfriend Experience'.

Jake eventually grew impatient with my lack of interaction; his head dropped into his shoulders as his whole frame seemed to shrink. "I have been thinking about everything, about your 'gift'"; he actually used air quotes to emphasise the word gift. "About us, and our life together.

"There are three things I am certain of: One, I cannot tell you what to do or not to do. I never have; you are an independent person, and I would never dream of forcing you to do anything you don't want to.

"Two, if you go through with this stupidity, there will be consequences, and three, even if you don't go through with it, we are nowhere near good; we will need counselling just to get to a point where we are no longer in danger.

"I have three options for you. I will give you the options, then I am going to sleep in the spare room. You will not join me; you will think about what you want and make a decision. Then, in the morning, you will tell me what you have decided, and we will go from there.

"Option one: you call off this stupid date thing, and we sign up for counselling and try to rectify our marriage.

"Option two: you go through with the date, never come back here, I file for divorce, and we go our separate ways."

He seemed to become smaller and paler as he processed option three. "Option three: you have your date without my approval, I do not file for divorce, but you agree to a set of rules, and we try to salvage some semblance of a marriage afterwards.

"You will be home no later than 3 am Saturday morning; he does not get to sleep next to you, and he does not get a second go-around in the morning.

"You will use protection. If his penis touches any part of you, then it is in a condom; that includes hand jobs and blowjobs.

"You will shower as soon as you return home, and all of the clothes you have worn, including shoes, will be put into a black bin bag and disposed of.

"You will give me your phone the moment you get home. I will remove any trace of him from your phone and replace your SIM with a new number. You will never have any form of contact with him again.

"If he contacts you, then you shut it down immediately and tell me. You will not encourage him in any way.

"You will not pay for anything to do with your date with joint funds. If you already have, then you will replace them immediately.

"Following the date, we will not be intimate until I am ready. You will not push me in any way; I will let you know when I am ready.

"If you abide by these rules rigidly, then I would be willing to attempt counselling to see if there is any relationship left to save.

"Oh, and finally, if you decide to go for option three, as of the point you confirm your agreement, even if eventually you decide ultimately not to go through with the date, I reserve the right to have a reciprocal hall pass date of my own at some point in the future. There will not be any time limit on it, and it will be my decision as to whether it happens, with whom and when."

Dr Miller, you have asked me before how I can remember everything Jake said that night. I remember the talk in full; even now I can close my eyes and be back in my lounge, looking at him. I suppose it will be a cross to bear until the day I die. Maybe it is like when someone has a near-death experience; they can recall every detail. Maybe I had a near-death experience for my marriage.

He watched me for a moment, maybe to check I had heard and understood him, or maybe just to check I was still breathing. At the time, I remember trying to move, to speak, but I was stuck like a statue. My brain was screaming at me to speak, but no sound came out.

.....

Nurse Andrews note: Soon after Ally stopped writing, she began to show signs of imminent psychotic distress. As per your directive, the on-call doctor administered Lorazepam and Ally was put under observation for the night.

.....

Dr Miller note: Ally, I can see these exercises are beginning to take a toll on you, and you are finding it difficult to remain calm. The purpose of this task is for you to view the situation and your actions from a safe distance. Writing the events down as a timeline, including your feelings and thoughts, allows you to step back and look at everything in abstract.

You have been doing so well, and I know we are now getting to the difficult part, so I am asking: when you are writing and feel things getting too close or real. Take a step away, go and do something else for a while to give your emotions time to settle again.

Our one-to-one session this week was very deep and emotional. Your work with the writing is allowing you to bring fresh perspectives to our sessions. This week we were able to better analyse your thoughts on your relationship with Clive and your reasoning for choosing the gift you did.

For this week's exercise, I would like you to focus on your decision regarding Jake's options and the period following the agreement.

You are making great progress, Ally; keep going.

.....

Dr Miller, I am not sure I can continue much further. I am finding this process quite draining, and I quickly get to the point where my emotions become too strong.

As you have requested, if I feel I am getting too low, I will step away for a while. I have also asked Nurse Andrews to check on me occasionally.

I left off when Jake had given me his three options. As I wrote, I was aware of what he had said, and I desperately wanted to talk; however, I lacked the ability to move, speak, or even to form cognitive thought. I believe in our last session you called this a Dissociative Stupor.

I saw Jake get up and tell me he was going to sleep in the spare room that night to give me time to think. I was generally aware that I was there and needed to focus but was not able to move or provide any real thought.

Eventually I woke when the light from the morning sun came streaming into the lounge. I was lying down on the sofa and had the sensation that I had been asleep but no understanding of how I had moved to a sleeping position.

Jake's words came flooding back to me suddenly as I heard his footsteps on the stairs. I had not thought about his options at all but knew he expected an answer. Thinking back now, I know I should have told him I was cancelling the date with Clive.

However, in my non-functioning brain, my jumbled thoughts argued that I didn't want a divorce; I couldn't understand why he would say such a thing, as I was giving Clive a gift Jake had suggested. I also couldn't see how I could disappoint Clive by cancelling the date.

I was left with only one option, which in that moment was the only choice available to me. Again, I should have cancelled the date, but I couldn't see that at the time.

I was fine with all of the conditions of the date except Jake's request to have a date of his own. I still don't understand why he wanted to be so cruel. I was only giving someone I had known for a long time a gift of intimacy. Jake, on the other hand, wanted to have sex with some random whore.

Those two things are not the same.

Jake came into the lounge from the kitchen holding a cup of coffee; he looked at me, waiting for me to speak.

Thankfully, he was wearing the blue tie and white shirt today, so that calmed me. He sat on the edge of his chair, perched as if ready to strike.

He was looking at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer to his options.

With no time to think, other than the few minutes since I woke up, my mouth spoke before my brain was fully aware of my intent. "I-I don't want a divorce, b-but I have already told Clive about his gift, so I can't back out.

His eyes drew cold; I now understand it was because he realised I had spoken with Clive before I had asked Jake. At the time, though, I just thought he was frustrated that I had chosen to continue with the gift.

He took a sip of his coffee in silence, then rose, staring at me. He told me he would write a contract at work that we could both sign so we were bound to the option.

I was in a daze as I arrived at work, having no idea of how I actually got there. I was met by Clive, who wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me to his empty classroom. He asked me what was wrong, concern evident as he looked at me.

I broke down crying and told him everything that had happened, about Jake's options and how distraught Jake appeared.

Clive let go of my hands and sat back. "I thought you had already discussed this with Jake and it was his idea," he muttered.

I nodded my head and told him that Jake had suggested, since I was struggling to find the right present for you, that I should give you an experience instead.

Clive's face went white as he whispered, "That's not the same thing." He dropped his head and looked so upset. After a moment, he looked up at me again and asked me what I had chosen.

Through sobs, I managed to tell him what I had told Jake that morning: that I only really had one choice. I didn't want a divorce, and I had already agreed to the gift with him, so I had to take option three.

Clive nodded supportively with a small smile on his face. I explained all of the conditions for the date; Clive nodded along in agreement, telling me that we would stay safely within Jake's conditions.

At that point, I became inconsolable and cried onto his shoulder until his shirt was soaked through. Eventually I managed to tell him about Jake's need for a night with a random whore.

Clive seemed to agree with Jake; his face was kind, but his words were anything but: "Ally, it is only fair, if you are having a hall pass date night with me, then shouldn't he get to have the same with someone else?"

I remember shouting at him that all men are pigs and that this was exactly what Jake wanted when he suggested it in the first place, before I stormed out of his room to go and hide in my own classroom.

I have no idea how I got through the morning lessons but decided to eat lunch in my classroom so I didn't need to interact with anybody. I looked up at a soft knock and saw Clive looking sheepish, standing in the doorway.

He apologised for upsetting me and asked if we could talk over lunch. He asked me why I was so upset at Jake wanting a hall pass.

I told him that he was giving something that was meant only for me to someone else. He was sympathetic but told me that I was doing the same thing with him.

I shook my head, saying that it was different, as it was a gift for a good friend. He looked confused and started to say something but just nodded instead.

I then told him that I was worried he would fall in love with this other person and I would lose my Jake forever. He held my hand, looked into my eyes and told me that Jake would probably never use the hall pass but wanted it only as a deterrent, hoping it would stop me.

Clive's words helped to calm me down, and the hope that Jake would not really want a hall pass helped me get past my fears. We talked further, and as the end-of-lunch bell rang, I was more relaxed and sure I had made the right choice.

That night I was home before Jake and again made him a nice meal; I wanted to show him I loved him and this was not something for him to worry about. He came home at the normal time but was distant with me. Gone was the normal side hug and kiss before he went to get changed.

Tonight, the only way I knew he was home was when I heard the door close. I went to check and saw him climb the last couple of stairs to the bedroom.

He came down twenty minutes later wearing a white T-shirt with a red band across it. The way he looked at me, I could see he had worn this on purpose just to antagonise me.

Dinner was a quiet affair. With Jake being very quiet, I tried to talk with him. I asked about his day, what he wanted to do at the weekend, but he either gave one-word answers or just shrugged his shoulders.

 

We sat and watched TV with Jake in his normal chair. I wanted to talk about what was happening, but Jake just shut down any conversation I started. He was quiet, other than checking his phone more than normal.

He had it face down on the arm of the chair closest to me. I could see the black glass light up every so often; he would turn it away from me and type something quickly. When I asked him who it was, he told me it was someone from work; they had a problem today, and they were still trying to find a solution.

Every so often, vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... as the black glass illuminated again. I was becoming suspicious of the way he reacted. These weren't work-related; he would smile or laugh softly. vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... I was becoming irritated and asked him to either put the phone away or turn it off.

His brow furrowed as he contemplated my request; in the end, he huffed and put the phone in his pocket. It didn't help. The pocket was nearest me. The material was thin. I could still hear the regular vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... through the fabric. I could even see the black glass light up his pocket. He didn't move; he didn't blink he just stared at the TV where a man was driving a car but his pocket was screaming vvhhuurrrr and he was letting it happen.

I asked Jake if he wanted an early night, I desperately wanted to show him just how much I loved him. He didn't even look at me; he simply shook his head and said, "No, not tonight."

I couldn't cope anymore; tears were stinging my eyes. I went over and knelt in front of him, hoping he would have to look at me. His eyes moved to focus on mine, but there was no warmth there. My breath caught in my throat; I had never seen him look at me that way before.

vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... The phone went off again in his pocket; my eye twitched thinking about it. I breathed slowly, trying to move past it. I thought back to Clive's words earlier in the day about Jake having his ego bent out of shape, that Clive was taking something from him.

I reached for his hand. "Jake, I love you so, so much. This is only a one-time gift I am giving, nothing more. Neither I nor Clive will be taking anything from you, I will come back to you at the end of the night, whole and even more in love with you than before. Please don't worry about it; you are my man, my husband, my life."

Jake's scowl softened slightly as he watched me. I gave him a soft smile. "Baby, please come to bed and let me show you just how much you mean to me?"

Again, he shook his head. "Not tonight, Ally, I just can't."

With tears in my eyes, I sighed and took myself to bed where I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke in the morning, Jake's side of the bed was cold. I looked, and his covers hadn't moved; he had either slept in the spare room or didn't come to bed.

I found him in the kitchen finishing a cup of coffee. I touched his shoulder as I made my way past, heading to the kettle. I turned back to him and asked if he would be home before I went out.

He raised his head and stared at me blankly. He shook his head and asked why.

I told him I wanted to see him before I went out and say goodbye.

He just looked at me, then vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... the black glass lit up; it was facing up this time, and I saw Laura's name appear on the message. "What is she messaging at this time for?" I was sure I knew why... she was going to be his hall pass.

She is stunning, bigger chest, blond hair, long legs, funny, smart and laughs at his jokes for a second too long. God, I hate her! She would love nothing more than to take Jake from me.

I heard a mumbling noise and realised Jake was talking; he was saying something about a project at work and that she was working with him on it. I know what work they are doing...

Dr Miller, apologies, I have not been able to continue for a couple of days. Nurse Andrews told me that I became agitated whilst writing and thinking about Laura. She told me that she and Albert needed to calm me down and put me in the quiet place for a while.

I think I am better now, so hopefully I can carry on. I am very keen to finish this task so you can see I am well enough to go home to my Jake.

Well, back to the exercise.

Jake never came home that evening before my date with Clive. I was quite upset about that; my first thought was that he was with Laura.

I got ready for my date with Clive. I chose a dress that was not too over the top, slightly more conservative than I could have gone with and also not one of my good dresses, as I knew Jake would be throwing it away when I got home.

I was upset Jake wasn't there; I wanted him to see that I was adhering to his conditions, and I wanted him to know I was thinking of him. I still didn't understand why he was upset with me at the time; now that I have been working through it with you, Dr Miller, I have a much better understanding of how much I hurt him.

I had to reapply my make-up when I arrived at the restaurant to meet Clive; I had been crying most of the drive, mad and upset that Jake didn't want to see me before I left. I tried hard to put Jake out of my mind as Clive opened my car door for me. I needed this to be a good gift for Clive and didn't want to let my worries get in the way.

Dr Miller, I don't want to go into too much detail about my evening with Clive. I can say that there was no earth-shattering, mind-altering sex. To be honest, the whole night left me rather let down.

During dinner and dancing, Clive's whole manner had changed; he was more full-on. Where before we would share a laugh at something funny, or our conversations were engaging and entertaining, now though, it was clear from the outset that to him, everything was just a precursor to sex.

Conversations now became very intimate in nature; his kiss hello was a passionate, full-tongue surprise. He sat next to me at dinner and spent most of his time rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. The dancing became close and grinding.

I was confused and disturbed at his behaviour and felt like calling the rest of the night off. I only stayed because I felt some misplaced sense of duty. I had started this, so I needed to finish it.

The sex... At the time, the sex was good. Nowhere near the level Jake and I had, but it was ok; I did orgasm. However, looking back at it now that a short time has passed, I can say with certainty that Clive was selfish. There was no intimacy, no shared experience; he was more interested in his own pleasure.

When I am with Jake, I am loved; I know I am the most important person in the world, and my pleasure is important to Jake.

I was back home long before I was meant to be. I had hoped to talk with Jake and help assure him that he had nothing to worry about and that I had come home to him and only him.

All the lights were off when I arrived home. There was no sign of him downstairs, so I went up to our bedroom and found him asleep. I was quite hurt at the time as I thought it meant I didn't mean that much to him.

Looking back now, I think that maybe Jake was feigning sleep so as not to interact with me. I think he was trying to protect himself and me. But at the time I was hurt, what made it so much worse was that, as I was undressing in the dark, I heard the sound of my new nightmares again: vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... I jumped at the noise in the silent room; I spun around and my eyes locked on his phone instantly.

The black glass was turned face down, but the light shone out like a beacon illuminating my impending doom.

.....

Nurse Andrews note: Ally quickly moved into a depressive state after her last writing session. We have calmed her and provided a mild sedative to help her rest. I don't think it would be advisable for her to write any more before your next session.

.....

Dr Miller note: Ally, thank you for persisting with these exercises. I can see you are gaining tremendous benefit from them. I can see in your writing and in our sessions that you are beginning to self-analyse your actions.

The act of writing has allowed you to step back from the situation and look at things differently. For example when you provided a new perspective for Jake's actions of being asleep when you returned show you are actually making progress.

The work we did in our follow-up session further reinforced this stance by allowing you to review your writing and look for differing viewpoints.

I am very pleased with how you are progressing with this task; however, the next will be the hardest yet, and I would like you to take your time. Work with Nurse Andrews and take breaks when you are starting to become overwhelmed.

This time I would like you to follow up with the period following your night with Clive until the time you came into our care.

I am so pleased with your progress; keep it up.

.....

Dr Miller, thank you for your confidence in me. Hopefully I will soon be well enough to go home to Jake. I can't wait until I am allowed to see him again; I miss him so much.

I know I am getting better. Although I have needed the green pills a few times recently, it is no longer just because of my anger, but in response to your exercise. I am practising my deep breathing today, Dr Miller. Four seconds in. Four seconds out. I am using the blue rubber pen very softly like a good patient. I am ready to go home to Jake; I know he is waiting for me to come home.

I remember waking up the next morning, and Jake was not in bed. I made my way downstairs and found him sitting at the table with a cup of tea. He looked so ill; his skin was white, there were bags under his eyes, and he had a distant look in his eyes.

Worried, I put my arm around his shoulder and pressed my hand to his forehead to check his temperature. He jumped at my touch but seemed to relax slightly. I asked him if he was ok as he looked ill, but he told me that he didn't sleep well.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat opposite him, waiting for him to ask me how my night went. We sat in silence for a long time, so long that I began to feel nervous at the loudness of the silence.

I wanted to talk to him, I wanted a healthy exchange; I needed for us to move past this and get back to being us again. I offered, "Well, my night with Clive went..." but he started shaking his head. He was moving his head left to right. Side to side.

Eventually he calmed down and, in a very monotone voice, said, "I don't want to hear anything about your night with Clive!" He almost spat out the words night and Clive; the venom was dripping off the words as they left his mouth.

"It has happened; we need to move on. I am having trouble reconciling things at the moment, so I am going to go out for the day, and hopefully I will be in a better place when I return."

He wasn't asking me if he could leave; he was merely informing me. Jake had never been like this before. My heart started being hit with electric bolts as his words pulsed through me. I was trying to make sense of why he was so distant.

I looked up to ask him to stay, but he was no longer there; the full cup of tea in my hands was cold.

Dr Miller, I still don't understand completely what happened here; was this another Dissociative Stupor? Or something else? I have no memory of Jake leaving or how long I had been sat there. I believe I was still sitting in the same position when he returned after it had gone dark.

That night he allowed me to hold him while we slept; this small gesture meant the world to me.

I was all bundled up, my head lying on his chest. I don't know why I was awake but I gently slithered further into him, my arm and leg enveloping him. I think I even purred as my eyes closed again, then vvhhuurrrr... vvhhuurrrr... My eyes were wide open, although the black glass was turned face down on his bedside table; the small shaft of light illuminated the whole room.

Was it Laura again? Why was she messaging him now? Was she the one? Was I going to lose him? I could feel my heart pounding against his side: thump, thump.... Thump, thump. Why was his chest not pounding like mine?

Sorry, Dr Miller, Nurse Andrews needed to let me calm down for a while. The emotions from that night are still very real to me. Looking at it now, I can see that it probably wasn't a message from Laura and could have simply been spam. I can feel my heart pounding as it did that night when I think about her.

I didn't sleep anymore that night. I lay next to Jake and listened to the soft noises he made. I tried so hard to match his breathing and heart rate. I knew that if I could be in sync with him, then everything would be fine; he would know I loved him and that everything would be ok.

I was still trying with every ounce of my being when he woke. He looked over at me; he could see and hear me sobbing.

He was concerned and asked me what was wrong. I didn't want to tell him the truth, as even I could see that made me sound crazy. After a moment, I told him I was just happy we were together again. He smiled, kissed my forehead and got up to use the bathroom.

I lay there for a moment, trying to untangle my thoughts: he was here, he still loved me, we were good?

I started to lift myself up out of the bed when I saw the black glass; it was silent for the moment. Its mere presence was now a cause of pain for me; it was the place where his love was being ripped away from me. I needed to look away; I needed to be realistic. I tried to rationalise all of the times the black glass had lit up my fear.

The rest of the weekend seemed to settle back into our normality; we went food shopping in the morning, stopping for lunch at our favourite pub, then back home snuggled up on the sofa watching some cheesy Sunday evening TV.

Monday at work was strange; there was no Clive. His replacement, a woman called Joanne, was nice. We talked for a while, but it wasn't the same. I found I was becoming lost in my memories when the children were busy.

More than once, I thought of messaging him or calling, then I would remember my oath to Jake to never speak with him again. The battle raged within me for most of the day; I would flip from wanting to talk with him to tell him my fears. Then I would chastise myself for feeling weak and not loving Jake enough to do this simple task.

That night, Jake seemed his normal self; there were moments when he would flinch when I touched him, but he would quickly compensate and show me affection.

The black glass only disturbed my world a few times. Each time, I would see him reach for his phone, smile quickly, type something, then turn it face down again. I needed to understand what he was saying to her; was it just a hall pass? Or has it progressed further? Am I going to lose him?

I asked him if I could look at his phone. I expected him to react badly; I needed a hostile reaction from him to justify my feelings. He looked at me for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and handing me his phone.

I was shocked; this was not what I expected. My paranoia told me he had probably changed the passcode. He hadn't, and what was more shocking, my biometrics were saved, so the black glass opened up as I took it.

I searched his messages, his phone records, everything. All that was there were work-related messages to Laura and other colleagues. The last message from her was simply asking him if he knew where a folder was.

I handed it back. The black glass was cool. No messages. Zero. A perfect circle of nothing. But zero isn't a real number. It is just a space where a number is hiding. He must have deleted them. Or he has a second phone.

I heard a soft, low hum but didn't register it until I felt some heat on my arm. I snapped out of my thoughts to see Jake looking at me with concern. "Baby, are you ok? You seem a bit distant." He looked at me for a moment longer before reaching for my left hand. There was shock on his face "Oh God, baby, your fingers are a mess. Look, there is blood coming out of your cuticles."

I looked down at my left hand. There were red tracks in the skin. Rivulets. Tiny, neat lines of red running down to my wrist. I don't know who put them there. Jake took me to the sink. The water was cold. It turned red to pink as the blood circled the black hole. He was gentle with the pads. He always cleans up the messes. He applied the plasters. One. Two. Three. Four. A neat row of blue bands to hide the red.

We sat at the kitchen table; he watched me for a long time; I could feel he wanted to say something but held back. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he told me I was scaring him; he could see changes in me since I returned on Friday.

I laughed when he asked me if Clive had hurt me. He looked hurt at my laugh. I shook my head. "No, my night with Clive was fine, nothing great, but no, he didn't hurt me."

I only told him some truths when I told him that I was just trying to come to terms with everything. I didn't think my gift to Clive would have affected him so much that it started me questioning other things.

I smiled and reached for his hand. "I am fine; I am just coming to terms with the hurt I have caused you." I couldn't tell him I was petrified that he was going to leave me for his hall pass, Laura. I couldn't even bring myself to speak it, even to myself.

.....

Nurse Andrews note: We have given Ally a sedative as she became rather upset after her writing session. We will assess if she is well enough to continue in the morning.

Dr Miller, thinking about what happened after my night with Clive is very upsetting; I am not sure how much more I can write down.

Tuesday morning, Jake said I still looked very low and asked me to make an appointment to see the doctor. I told him I was fine, just tired, but he became very insistent and wouldn't take no for an answer.

I promised him I would see the doctor, but once he left for work, I went off to school with no intention of contacting the doctor. I really didn't feel like there was any problem with me; the problem was with Jake and his intention to have his hall pass with Laura.

When Jake came in from work, his first words were, "What did the Doctor say?"

I dismissed him, telling him the doctor thinks it may just be a hormone imbalance; he had prescribed something, so we will see how it goes.

The rest of the night and most of Wednesday, I felt like I was watching myself from a distance, like my body was a zombie and I was a mere apparition of myself. I numbly fumbled my way through life, interacting with everyone but not actually being present.

I was wrenched back to reality Wednesday evening after dinner when Jake informed me that the big project he had been working on was finished and the management had invited the team out to dinner tomorrow night.

My memory of what happened next is just a white space. Someone was screaming. It was a woman's voice calling him a liar. She was screaming about the whore Laura. I watched everything from the ceiling. I don't remember anything after that; however, I remember waking up the next morning in an empty bed. The sheets next to me were cold. Jake was already downstairs.

I gasped when I saw him; there were three scratches down his right cheek and what looked like a black eye forming.

He slowly turned to look at me. I was struck that there was still love in his eyes, but there was mainly worry and fear.

I was a mess; although I didn't remember doing it, I was certain his injuries were at my hands. I dropped to the floor at his feet, crying, muttering "Sorry," over and over.

He pulled me up into a chair and held my hands. I can remember his words clearly: "Ally, my love, you need help. I need you to seek help today; you are not healthy. I don't understand what happened, but once I mentioned my work dinner, you flew into a blind rage. I was scared for you; I had to hold you down so you didn't hurt yourself.

 

"I need to go into work this morning, and then I am coming home to take you to get some help. Please, please, let me help you."

Sobbing, I reached up and traced my hand over the scratches; I nodded my acceptance.

Dr Miller, I am sorry, but my memories of this seem to jump. I remember agreeing to go with Jake to see the doctor; however, I don't remember actually seeing the doctor.

I remember Jake tucking me into bed whilst it was still light out; he put a cup of tea next to me and gave me my favourite book. He told me he had to go and show his face at dinner but would only be an hour.

He left, and I remember thinking, if I could only see them, I could talk to them and beg them not to hurt me.

Oh, I think I did something...

.....

Dear Dr Harris.

Thank you for your offer to collaborate on a treatment plan for this patient.

Patient Name: Allison Reynolds (Prefers to be called Ally)

Ally was presented to us approximately 3 years ago in a catatonic state secondary to severe psychological trauma, with waxy flexibility allowing her to move when assisted but with no visible signs of mental presence. This first catatonic episode lasted approximately 4 months before she began exhibiting signs of awareness.

It took a further month for her to be fully cognisant and functioning.

In the time Ally has been a resident with us, we have tried a number of different methods of treatment with only minor variances in the same outcome. Ally will get to the same point in her memories and shut down again.

Each time there is a catatonic regression, the effects are visible for anywhere from a couple of weeks to a few months.

Attached is a transcript of our latest attempt, which involved the patient, whilst fully supported by myself and my staff, writing about her experience, allowing her to step back and analyse her own actions in abstract.

To assist with your understanding of this case, the gap in the patient's memory, which causes a complete mental shutdown, is as follows and has been relayed to us by the police and medical staff, with corroborating statements from witnesses.

It would appear that, from the point Ally highlighted in the attached, Jake left for the work dinner. Ally followed with the intention of confronting Jake and the imagined partner Laura.

From reports, an argument broke out, and Ally attempted to inflict injury on Laura with a steak knife which was positioned on a nearby table.

Jake saw Ally's intentions and stepped in the way, trying to stop her; however, in his actions, he positioned himself in front of the blade, which penetrated his lung, resulting in irreparable damage.

Jake's injuries were such that he was pronounced dead at the scene. We believe Ally's first catatonic episode happened directly after she heard the medical team pronounce Jake.

This case is interesting but also heartbreaking; the patient is in a state where she believes she has been admitted for a short period and that her husband will be collecting her shortly.

I am sorry to say, but other than further advanced somatic therapies, I feel I may be at the limit of my expertise. Your experience and insight would be invaluable to this patient.

Please feel free to contact me at your leisure to arrange a call to discuss this patient further.

Kindest regards

Dr Arnold Miller.

Rate the story «The Gift of Sanity»

📥 download as: txt  fb2  epub    or    print
Leave comments - we pay for them!

There are no comments yet - be the first to add one!

Add new comment


Our AI advises

You need to log in so that our AI can start recommending suitable works that you will definitely like.