Abrisham (David Vicnent)
|Influences||Personal Experience - Alexander Shulgin - Human Behaviour - Current Society|
|Bio||A traveler, who left young to embrace the world and understand himself. Experienced the more chilling aspects of PTSD and learning how to work towards the recovery of himself, and the social framework that surround him.|
A man in white leads me into a room of white. In the center is a desk from Ikea. McDonalds and it's provocative red and yellow is next door. Outside the glass window cars of different colours pass by on the highway.
The room simulates an in-vitro analysis of the mind; clinical, analytical, a residence for an author of prescription pills that work in lab rats.
The Psychiatrist, a tall man from Iran named Mojtaba. I trust this man because my Persian identity trusts Iranians, because i am vulnerable from pain and need to share this without exploitation.
Dr.Mojtaba has a reputation for arriving late.
“Take a seat Jamie”
My father was anxious.
Dr.Mojtaba sat behind the desk, confident. He was the owner of the entire 4 story medical facility. The pharmacy, consultation room, reception, he was in charge here.
“So Jamie I’ve Spoken to your Sister”.
He shouldn’t have said that, but he did. It was a professional slip-up, which put him on the defense, so he repeated.
“I spoke to your sister, and we spoke about how you’ve had, quite a difficult past few months”.
These words they stuck me as an anamoly, since i had not spoken to my sister in quite a long time, what could she have possibly said?
A week earlier i had left my Grandfather's avocado farm in New Zealand. The siblings were vulturing the will, and the farm laid broken, pillaged by domestic violence, fear and victim blaming.
After such an experience my face bore the expression of the social scapegoat.
The colours of the cars passed by outside.
“Jamie, as I said I’ve Spoken to your sister”
“Oh Yeah, and What did she say!”
Dr.Mojtaba glanced at his notes, then raised them slowly creating an atmosphere of suspicion before looking me in the eye.
In the same manner he pushed himself away from his desk, to stand then pace over to the window and looked outside at the cars passing by.
“Jamie what do you see outside of this window, do you see the Iranian village with the family you wished you had? or do you see colored cars passing by on a highway you're father sitting beside you anxiously?"
“I want to see the villages, the desert, the stars, the flowers of spring!"
"Jamie I have embraced the modern world, i suggest you do too. I suggest that you swallow what you think you see, I suggest that you believe and accept without question what is about to happen."
Dr.Mojtaba walked away from the window and eased back into his chair. He put pen to paper, writing down a clinical analysis for delivery to the pharmacy on ground level.
"Dr.Mojtaba before you finish! What diagnosis would you give to a man who said that the McDonald's next to your clinic is a waste of humanity?. What diagnosis do you give a man who says the burning of the rainforest must end and the research and use of it's plant metabolites must begin?.
“Jamie, I'd say that I've seen cases like yours before it's termed 'psychosis'. The McDonalds next door is real, and those ideas, they're entirely manic. On top of all this you're only able to live of people, like a parasite. You told me you traveled for four years with very little money, that means your living off people. Nobody will support such delusional dreams the birth of mania."
To remain my silence i allow my mind to drift into the forests of what lay in my memory.
"What i can't understand is why would you engage in such dangerous behviour! Hitch hiking across different countries, sleeping on the streets! What could you possibly gain in understanding?"
"A better perspective of human values"
Dr.Mojtaba took of the white coat to air out the business suit underneath.
"Oh fuck off Jamie, all your doing is living off people"
"I don't feel that way. I lived a life that felt spiritually aware. I continued my education by reading on a kindle, and learnt three languages and apart of my deeper self."
Dr.Mostajba looked away, while pulling over the white coat.
"I'm a fair man, I always give my patients choices. You will be given three."
"What are they?"
"The psychiatric ward in an emergency hospital, a pill that will make you fat, or a pill that won't make you fat"
Sir here i am your subordinate, and this is my social tether. The room around me looked sad, so i entered into a memory.
I remembered the mountains of Georgia where people built churches high on the rock to be closer to God. Along the roads i walked people had planted apple trees so that a traveling man had the right to not go hungry. At night in the pine forest my mind chased the shadows of wolfs among the trees, then looked into the burning fire for safety. The water that came out from the rocks was sweet and delicious to taste, and in the silence of snow that covered distant hills i heard them echo in my emotions; 'walk towards us for your answer'.
In my hand was the prescription, in the car everything was moving past at 60km an hour, and in my eyes were tears.
Two days later i had attended the follow up appointment with my GP, Dr.Roberts.
Dr.Roberts opened the psychiatrist’s evaluation on his desktop and read.
Jamie has expressed some grandiose and bizarre delusions (such as being shot in the head) as outlined above. He denied auditory hallucinations. His cognition appeared to be OK. His judgement was impaired given his decision to travel countries with no money.
“Jamie, Do you have an explanation about the conclusions of Dr.Mojataba diagnosis?”
“Let's clear things up with an X-Ray, and then how about we talk about the experience of mountains."