Dancing with Reality: Stories of People that will Touch your Heart

By Iñaki Vázquez

"A collection of inspiring, heart-warming, touching stories that will make you laugh, and reflect."
Do you like true stories? Of people like us who go through extraordinary situations?
In this book Dr. Iñaki Vázquez brings together the most surprising cases he has experienced over the course of his career as a psychiatrist and psychotherapist.
Related in the style of Oliver Sachs's "The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat," each reveals a part of the world of psychology.

Inspirational stories that unveil the functioning of the mind, of the human being, and ultimately, of ourselves.
Let Julio "the Conscious Statue," Marisa "the Amphetamine," and Zapatones "the Learned Lunatic" join you for a trip full of surprises and personal growth!
A book that will no doubt surprise you...

"I have had the good fortune to be able to read your book. It has been an experience that has taken me through a variety of emotions, accompanied by a perpetual curiosity to know how it ends. Thank you for writing and sharing something so lovely. I have found so much beauty in how you describe the essence of being human!
Simply, thanks."
Eva María.

"Today it is essential to surround ourselves with people and stories that touch our hearts, that inspire us, that help us live better.
Dr. Vázquez gathers together stories that help us grow!
Totally recommended!!"
Javier Rivero Díaz, no. 1 author on Amazon with "How to Improve Your Economy in Less Than 7 Days."

"Thank you for giving us the privilege of reading these stories. They are really captivating."
Greg & Yucelyn Turek (www.zythem.com) translators of the English version.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Iñaki Vázquez
• Release date: May 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310255571

Book preview

Dancing with Reality

Stories of People That Will Touch Your Heart

Dr. Iñaki Vázquez

Copyright © 2016 by Dr. Iñaki Vázquez. All rights reserved.

All the stories told in this book came from real people. Some were told directly by their protagonists, and others I was able to share along with them in the first person.

Names and some details have been changed to maintain the necessary privacy, but I must say, those I consulted proudly gave me permission to use their real names.

To them, and to all those who have made this book possible with their generosity, my most sincere gratitude.

Table of Contents

1 Arturo, the Persecuted

2 Julio, the Conscious Statue

3 The Day Hospital

4 Francisco, the Simple

5 Cristina, the Odd

6 Carlos, the Unfortunate

7 The Tale of the Bicha

8 Victoria, the Adolescent Diabetic

9 Manuel and His Secret

10 Armando, or the Supporting Actors

11 Families, or the Curious Story of Albert and His Mother

12 Marisa, the Amphetamine

13 A Horrific On-Call Experience

14 Olga, the Acrobat

15 Iatrogenesis

16 Óscar, the Man With the Cigar

17 Zapatones, the Learned Lunatic

18 The Doctor

19 The end

1

Arturo, the Persecuted

That morning, the one on the day Arturo lost his mind, began with a glorious sunrise.

He liked resting his back against the wall when he played in the street, but the buildings in the new city were colder, and at times, he noticed the humidity from the moss that grew in the shady areas. Perhaps what he missed most about living in the small town was the heat. He often recalled the day he left, leaving his father and little sister at the station. His father had a look of deep concern on his face, and his sister failed to understand why her brother was going so far away to study something of unknown usefulness. When he turned to take one last look at them from his seat in the train, he had to squint to keep from being blinded by the sunlight. In the image that was imprinted on his retina, he could hardly make out his father’s big stout frame and his sister’s two uneven pigtails, but he felt comforted by the warmth and the rhythmic rattling, which accompanied him all the way to his new and promising destination.

He had not seen that blinding glare again, and when he looked up with longing, his gaze was met with a permanently overcast sky. But on the other hand, that morning had begun with a glorious sunrise.

Apart from the drawbacks of adapting to the city, he felt more than satisfied. He was grateful to his father who, in spite of considering him quite immature for having just turned 18 years old, had let him go to study in another province. And even though he did not go to class too often in the School of Fine Arts, he was productive enough so that his father would cover the expenses for his basic needs.

He lived in a small apartment in the old part of the city full of antique furniture that he had learned how to decorate with his belongings, giving it a new look. Arturo was tall and dark, and although he had lost a little weight and some of his tan, his emaciated figure exuded a particular appeal.

It was true that he had neglected his diet and studies, but he invested all that time in what had always been his greatest passion: music. He started playing guitar at a very young age and had learned how to inflect his voice with a more than noticeable result. He secretly dreamed of being able to live off music, and even though he knew how hard it was, he did not miss the opportunity to practice whenever he could. He often wandered the streets, guitar on his shoulder, to stop to play at random corners, and people had already begun taking notice of his velvety voice.

For the moment, it was no more than a dream. He knew that he should focus on his studies, but it made him feel like he was missing out on something if he spent too much time among books. He preferred to go out, meet other people, discuss philosophy, art, love, soak up new experiences, and ultimately, as he liked to say, live life.

The exaggerated doubts of his father and the drawbacks of his newfound independence aside, Arturo was happy. He saw before him a field of opportunities that, he was sure, he was not going to waste. He felt lucky, and his mood and intuition told him that everything could go even better...

That evening he went out as usual. He automatically slung the guitar on his back before closing the door and leisurely going down the stairs. When he reached the street, he was surprised to feel an unexpected warmth on his face, which brought up fond memories. The day was surprisingly clear, and with the sun shining bright he could not help but smile. Then he realized that he was wearing too much clothing. He actually had been wearing the same ones for several days but deemed it unnecessary to go back up to change. He was not going to let anything spoil that moment, so he continued on his way losing himself in the streets. Finally, a bright sunny day, he thought. Now that was a good sign!

When he reached the old town, he found several guys sitting on some stairs singing songs and drinking beer. He had not seen them before, but he had his guitar out in seconds and was playing it adeptly as he approached them. They immediately made a place for him in the group and struck up a lively conversation. They told him that they came from a nearby town, that they had arrived by train that afternoon, and that they were eager to see the city and spend a night partying. Arturo offered himself without hesitation as a safe host willing to unravel the secrets of the city for them, for which they all were grateful and celebrated happily.

The hours passed between laughs, songs, and beer, and almost before they knew it, it was already the first light of dawn. Some of the guys, overcome by tiredness and alcohol, had surrendered to sleep and were resting on the soft grass in a park. But that was not the case for Arturo, who tirelessly resisted with two of the guys who, as he had discovered, he had a lot in common with. It was so wonderful to find people to share concerns and delve into the mysteries of life with...!

But as much as they wanted to avoid it, a moment arrived when sleep began to take hold and rest became more than necessary...

Let’s sleep in my house! Arturo said enthusiastically.

You’re really inviting us to sleep at your place? the guys asked, surprised.

What are friends for, if not this? Or do you prefer sleeping out in the open?

No way! they exclaimed in unison.

They were heading toward Arturo’s apartment with a carefree attitude, but then something happened. Something that at another time would not have mattered in the least, a mere anecdote in a night full of good experiences, but that remained strangely fixed in the mind of Arturo, like an image burned onto the retina: While going around a corner, one of the guys bumped into someone walking in the opposite direction along with several others...

Watch out! Don’t you look where you’re going? the strangers snapped.

Arturo and the two guys were somewhat surprised by the exaggerated response.

Easy, it’s not a big deal! the one who bumped into him said.

Fuck off, assholes! If you don’t want something to happen to you...

And they continued walking again as if nothing had happened.

What did they mean by something to happen to you? And why did they react like that? Those questions kept floating around in Arturo’s mind. Whatever, he thought. And with that, he waved his hand as if to dismiss those unwanted thoughts from his head. Nevertheless, against his will, he could not do so completely.

They continued on their way home. The other guys kept talking and laughing at the latest jokes, until they reached the main door. Arturo put the key in the lock, but, before turning it, he was compelled to turn his head and look back: Some people were wearily starting their workday, and the first rays of what looked like another sunny day reflected off a number of cars. He deemed that action unnecessary but... why was that white van there?... Nonsense, Arturo, he interrupted himself out loud; don’t let your imagination run wild and go up to the apartment. I think you definitely need some rest...

He fell right to sleep and awoke feeling happy with the memory of the fun and fulfilling night before. He went to the small living room to greet his two new friends, who had had to sleep on the uncomfortable sofa bed, but when he got there they were not there. He guessed that they would have gone down to buy something for breakfast, so he went to the window and peered out in the direction of the bakery. He did not see them there either. But wait, he said to himself. Isn’t that white van the one that was there yesterday?... He suddenly remembered what happened at the end of the night, and a chill ran down his back: Something to happen to you.... Those words came back to him with unusual vividness. He walked quickly to the table; among the pile of books and clothes he managed to find a paper and pencil, and he rushed to jot down the van’s license plate number. Maybe all that did not have any connection, but a strange intuition told him that what happened the day before and the white van could have something to do with it. And is it not intuitions that often point us in the right direction?

He decided to wait for his two friends, and thinking about them helped him calm down a little. People sure do connect well with each other sometimes! On nights like that you could make friends that last forever... And also enemies..., he told himself without being able to avoid it.

The minutes passed, and there was no sign of the two guys. He became impatient. He did not want to look out the window, but in the face of the delay, he did. He stood leaning against the window frame for a while, holding the curtain with his hand. The street was centrally located, and around that time it was particularly busy. People passed by with bags; some stopped to chat with each other. There were some children—it was Saturday, and there was no school—and he noticed that one of them was watching him from the street. Their eyes met. The boy looked down and went to join some others. Suddenly, he raised his eyes and pointed, and all the other children looked at him too. Without knowing why, Arturo was gripped with fear, and he quickly drew the curtains and ducked. He was breathing hard and his heart was pounding in the chest. He made a small opening and looked back at the street. The children were gone, and, without wanting to, he confirmed that the white van remained parked in the same place.

It had been nearly three hours and his friends had not returned. He noticed that he was hungry and realized that he had not had breakfast yet. He went to the kitchen. He remembered that he had some rolls in the fridge. He opened it. It was practically empty, which was nothing new, but he could not find the rolls. He rummaged through other shelves in the kitchen. Nothing, no trace. Moreover, he swore he was missing some other things to eat. He went to the living room. If food was missing, he reasoned, it was also possible that other items were missing. He took a look. There was such a mess, and it was hard to quickly find out if something else had disappeared. If so, who could have done it? Only someone who’s come in when I wasn’t here... Or maybe someone who’s been with me at home... He thought of the guys who had slept there that night: That’s impossible, they’re my friends... My friends.... He thought for a moment. Suddenly, he recalled what happened the day before. One of them had bumped into someone, and the next moment it seemed like nothing had happened. What if they already knew each other from before?

It was absurd. It was going too far, and all that had to have a much simpler explanation. It was just that he was tired and could not think clearly. Maybe they met each other before..., he heard himself thinking again in his head, and then...

Arturo, be careful!

Who said that? He heard it as clear as a bell, but that time it was not his thoughts that echoed in his head. He spun around looking in all directions, but he knew there was no one else in the house. No, in that instance it was not his thoughts. Of that he was sure, completely sure. And that certainty terrified him.

Everything that was happening was very strange. Too many things that did not add up. Something was happening, and it felt like he was not able to put together all the pieces of a puzzle that was still in disarray. He had a feeling that the solution to this enigma was right in front of him, but no matter how much effort he put into it, it seemed slip through his fingers.

He decided to get moving and sprang into action. Maybe he did not know exactly what was happening, but what he was sure about was that he could be in danger. He went to the door and locked it. It did not seem like enough. Intuitively (where did he learn that?), he broke the key off inside the lock and tossed the other half. He struggled to drag the kitchen table and propped it up against the door, piling all the books that he found around the house on top of it.

Well done Arturo, you’re doing very well...

Immediately afterward, he took off all his clothes (leaving on only underwear and a t-shirt) and threw them into a corner. He began to examine his body. At first methodically but then with growing concern. He did not know what he was looking for: maybe some marks, wounds... He had a feeling that during the night they could have done something to him. But why him? Why was all that happening? Who could want to hurt him?

When he was satisfied with his examination, he gathered his strength and went to the window. He was determined to find out once and for all what was going on. He swung it wide open and looked at the street. It looked just like before, but that time several people looked up at him. Then a few more joined them, also watching him and talking to each other. He was not scared. He remained impassive trying to memorize the faces looking at him from below. It seemed like he had seen some of them the day before. He had! Without a doubt, he recognized one of the guys they bumped into. Yes, it had to be him, he was absolutely certain...

You’re doing well, Arturo. Not much remains...

It felt like he was getting closer to the solution, but at the same time everything was becoming more dangerous. He realized that powerful people had to be involved: too many people implicated, too many coincidences. People with power, he thought, with real power. Enough to... to have me under surveillance at this very moment! He turned on his feet and instinctively looked for any electrical apparatus that might be in the house. He only saw the small TV on the chest of drawers in the living room. He went for it, grabbed it with both hands, and without hesitation threw it out the window. He heard the loud noise when it crashed against the ground. There are your cameras, fuckers! he exclaimed with a smirk.

Several minutes went by, which seemed like an eternity. Crouched under the window, he began to hear sirens coming from police cars in the distance. First like a whimper, and then, ear-splittingly clear.

They’re coming for you...

He felt like he was running out of time. He had to think fast, to find the solution before they arrived! But how to put everything together...

And suddenly, like a flash, it felt like time stopped, and an infinite clarity illuminated everything. Before his eyes the confusing and chaotic dance of what was happening was taking on a rhythm, a pattern. In that moment he witnessed how each and every one of the pieces of that terrible situation fit together with complete precision. And just then he knew, with absolute certainty, that they were coming to get him.

And you can vow not to be caught alive, Arturo...

I swear to it! he said, and he prepared to take them on.

Below, in the square, a police car parked next to a tree as the sound of its siren died out. A uniformed officer got out.

What’s going on here? he asked without addressing anyone in particular.

It’s a guy, on the second floor, a man answered. He’s half naked, and he threw a TV out that window... He could have hurt someone!

I understand... said the police officer, and he looked in the direction the man indicated with his hand. Do any of you know who he is?

An older woman raised her voice.

He’s a ‘pig,’ she said contemptuously. He’s always dirty, with a guitar... How obscene to hang out in front of the window naked! With all the kids in front!

I live in the same building, a young woman then commented. He keeps to himself, but he’s never done anything to anyone. He usually plays guitar around the neighborhood. He sometimes brings other guys back to his apartment. I think they take advantage of him, she said looking at the older woman.

With these comments and others from the people who had gathered around out of curiosity, the police officer got an idea about the guy who lived in that apartment. Apparently, he had only been in the city for a few months. He was kind of a little weird, but peaceful. And he had not caused problems in the neighborhood until then, except perhaps that his appearance, increasingly dirty and neglected, alarmed or displeased some neighbors.

But that morning he was half naked leaning out the window on various occasions, and after a while, without anyone knowing why, he threw a TV out the window.

Do you know if he’s home alone?

I don’t know, said the young woman who lived in the same building, but a few hours ago two guys came out with bags. I don’t think they’ve gone back up.

I see...