A brief look at neuroticism, OCPD, and medical quackery. Non-fiction characterization. Remembering DFT.
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Kicky Cano was an eccentric man given to many strange compulsions. For many years there’d been no rhyme or reason for the way his mind worked, and because of it, he’d often find himself at odds with family and co-workers because of his wide-swinging emotional and cerebral inconsistencies. Recently, Kicky discovered that he’d lost something he’d never known was there; something important inside that had just vanished. After coming to grips with the fact that it was gone, he began stressing for hours each day about what he could do to get it back. Seems the more Kicky stewed though, the more bewildered he became. Finally, after getting advice from one of his ex-wives, he decided to consult a specialist.
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Dr. Barky Declan had recently relocated to the area and had set up a new practice. Barky was known as an amenable family man, with an untarnished reputation in the fields of clinical (and experimental) psychology and also alternative medicines. Because of his wife’s family, he also had ties with many of the pharmaceutic companies in the state. On Kicky’s first visit, after talking for about an hour, Dr. Declan suggested that he consider using some of the newer drugs for dementia praecox, dissociative personality, schizophrenia, neuroticism, paranoia, and clinical depression.
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Kicky looked puzzled. “But Doctor… how is this going to help me get back what I’ve lost? Aren’t these newer drugs kind of dangerous? I don’t wanna be a guinea pig in some freakin’ experiment.”
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Consolingly, (now with a glint in his eyes) the Doctor assured him: “Mr. Cano, don’t worry, chosen correctly these drugs will give you the help you need to get back in touch with what you’ve lost. Let’s stay positive… ok? Besides…. if anything peculiar develops, any bad reactions or the such, there are a variety of directions we can take. Don’t worry. I’m an expert at these kinds of things, and you’re in the best of hands. Trust me!”
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Being on meds had always provoked a peculiar anxiety in Kicky, but because of the doctors calming assurances, he decided to try them. That evening, with eagerness and newfound hope, Kicky began the pill regimen. But things did not progress the way he expected them to. After a few days, Kicky’s brain got fuzzy, and he couldn’t focus. Then, like the slow dim of an approaching sunset, his personality began morphing.
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FOUR WEEKS LATER…
Kicky Cano had become slothful from lack of exercise, and he argued with anyone who didn’t believe what he did. He was eating poorly and boozing now more than ever. His weight had begun to balloon, and for anyone that visited, the emotional atmosphere around him was suffocating.
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THREE MONTHS LATER…
The prescription drugs were ruining him. Fuzzy headed, constipated, cranky, and struggling at times with suicidal thoughts; Kicky began doubting that he would ever find what he’d lost. He was desperate. He knew that if he couldn’t get it back, he was doomed to a lifetime of misery, depression, and alcoholism. The next morning, while watching another slick religious con, Kicky snapped. He was sick and tired of phony money-grubbing TV preachers. Cursing angrily, he punched the wall and broke two knuckles. Shocked by what’d happened, he spun around in a red-faced fit of rage and kicked the couch so hard he broke his foot. In agony, Kicky began screaming for help. The neighbors rushed over to investigate, and when they realized what’d happened, they called the paramedics. Within minutes help arrived and he was rushed to emergency. After the breaks were x-rayed, analyzed, and set, the Emergency Doctor informed him that for the next 10-12 weeks he would be using a walker, and he would also be on a regimen of pain and inflammation meds. Kicky cursed vehemently.
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TWO WEEKS LATER…
Fully disgruntled, lethargic, overweight, unable to focus, depressed, unable to write, unable to work; Doctor Declan urged Kicky to consider alternative-hypnosis, with ensuing analysis, so that he and his team could try and zero-in on the underlying causes. In desperation, and willing to try anything, Kicky agreed.
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The first session was telling. As soon as he was under, Kicky broke open like an egg. The Doctor’s assistants stared flabbergasted as the man gushed an infinitude of troubles. His dysfunction was beyond anything any of them had ever encountered. When Kicky had exhausted himself, he slumped forward and mumbled: “If only I could find the ‘thing’ that I lost, I would be a very happy man. Won’t you please help me find it? I’m begging you.”
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The Doctor looked at him with pity. “I will try. Can you describe what it was?”
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Kicky looked back with tearing eyes. “If I could, I would, I swear, but I can’t, because I never knew that I had it until it was gone.”
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The Doctor was puzzled. “You never knew you had what?”
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Kicky snapped angrily. “The f ^&*$%# thing I lost.”
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“Ok…. calm down. Mr. Cano, let me ask you this…. if you never knew this ‘thing’ was there until it was gone, how do you know that when you thought you’d lost it, you really had?”
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Kicky shifted nervously in the chair. Suddenly his eyes opened wide. Then his face contorted angrily, and he began to verbally lambast someone he thought was sitting next to him. The Doctor and staff watched in shock.
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After his tirade, the Doctor asked again, “Mr. Cano, can you answer please?
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With eyes wildly possessed, Kicky spit back bitterly. “Dumb quack, why do you let all these tormenters in here? I can’t think straight when they’re all whispering to me. I knew my thing was gone because it wasn’t there anymore, and it depressed me badly. Why can’t you understand that?”
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The Doctor’s forehead furrowed in thought. After several moments a mischievous glint formed in his eyes.
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“Ok…. let’s try a different approach. Let’s suppose that I can find what you lost without you understanding how. And that I could return it to the void in you without you having to do anything. Would you promise me then that you would never again lose what you didn’t know you had, and that you would always protect it whether you knew it was there or not?”
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Kicky began laughing joyfully. “Oh Doctor… of course I would.”
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“Ok then…” The Doctor held out his hand. “Here it is.”
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Kicky swore terribly and threw his hands in the air. “You stupid quack-ass…. there’s nothing there!”
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“Yes, there is. Only special Doctors can see what’s invisible. It’s why you didn’t know it was inside you. And it’s why you didn’t know it was gone until you somehow convinced yourself that you’d lost it.”
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Wide-eyed, Kicky asked: “Oh my…. So, what should I do then?”
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With a crafty grin, the Doctor answered. “Nothing. Now listen. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to put what I have here in my hand back in the place it used to be in you. That way you never have to bother looking for it anymore. Ok? Now… Mr. Cano, I’m going to count backwards from five. When I get to one, you will wake up, and know that the ‘thing’ you lost has finally returned home.”
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5…. 4…. 3…. 2… 1
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Kicky awakened in good spirits. His demeanor had changed dramatically, and there was a kind of lightness now in his eyes. Happily, he hobbled over to the mirror, and stood a while gazing at himself. Within moments though he became fidgety. Turning, with tears in his eyes, he looked at the doctor and groaned:
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“Oh Doctor…. It feels like there’s something missing.”
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© richard lloyd cederberg
8/2023
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Ironically, I recently read Stanford research returning to testing hallucinogens like LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide) and mushrooms (psilocybin and psilocin) as treatment for mental illnesses.
Veterans with PTSD have been relieved of their symptoms with as little as a single therapist-guided dose. Apparently, the brain is cleared of all the conflicting thoughts so that they no longer haunt the individual. Even those with schizophrenia have been able to be relieved of the paranoia. This experimentation is being carefully watched and drug laws will have to be improved if it will be used widely by professional practitioners. And hopefully, not misused by quacks.
Ron