Notes of first therapy session with El-Or (real name: George), male, 22, diagnosed with Schizotypal Personality Disorder

El-Or's real name is George. He changed it as a result of an epiphany he experienced at the tender age of 9 when he encountered an alien spaceship in his back yard and "in all probability" was abducted by its crew. Can't he remember for sure? It's all kind of fuzzy, but ever since then he has had numerous out of body experiences and has developed psychic capabilities such as clairvoyance and remote viewing. "I can see that you don't believe a word of it." - he declaims bitterly - "You probably can't wait to tell the other therapists here about me and have a good laugh at my expense." I remind him that therapy sessions are strictly confidential but he nods his head sagely: "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Doc."

El-Or, wounded by my skepticism, lapses into his own private language: "The locust days are here and the wise shall behold and not see, hear the deafening and yet not be lifted." Can he help me understand what he just said? "Your crown is naked, councillor, 'tis there to fathom and yours to cling to. All your kind shall perish if you forsake not your mind's cage." In other words: I better believe what he tells me and give up my prejudices - or I shall be rendered obsolete and dispensable when the time comes.

El-Or firmly believes that Earth is about to be overtaken by alien species. They are already here, scouting the land and choosing who will be "lifted" and who will "perish". Many adepts have defected to "their" side and are collaborating with the aliens in the subjugation of Mankind and the ultimate conquest of our planet. El-Or, though, has decided not to betray his kind. His self-assigned mission is to warn of the impending doom and save as many "enlightened" souls as he can. Hence his irritation with my attempts to puncture holes in his scenario.

El-Or is "marked". Every morning he paints a giant bright-red square on his forehead to renew his covenant with his erstwhile captors. He also wears a multicoloured armband and ankle bracelets. He does that to make "them" think that he is fully converted to "their" cause.

Surreptitiously, though, to signify his true allegiance, he paints a pale blue circle - a symbol of our habitat - under the square. And he always carries with him a duffle bag stuffed with clothes and bare necessities: his "flight kit". Only his intimates, people he can trust with his life, all of them first-degree relatives, know about this subterfuge. "It is very dangerous to go against" the aliens, he susurrates and glances around the room fretfully.

El-Or resents the fact that his love for humanity is not reciprocated and that the huge sacrifices he is making are not being recognized. People frequently mock him and ridicule his ideas, often behind his back, when he is unable to defend himself and show them the errors of their ways. That's why he has no friends. He can trust no one. "The knife in the back always thrust by the pretending soul mate." Does he feel safe in the framework of psychotherapy? "Heaven and Earth conceal that which cannot be revealed" - is his enigmatic response.

The Sadist