A Twisted Wisdom: Who Can You Trust?

By Stephanie Colbert

She enters a psychiatric ward seeking help but when she feels ready to leave her psychiatrist won't let her. Then she does what life has taught her to do--fight! But it's a futile battle because he has her committed to a state hospital and she learns the meaning of the term hell on earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Colbert
• Release date: Aug 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386755555

Book preview

Acknowledgements

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Thank you, to my family for all their support and love without which I would never be able to fulfill my dream, for writing is a joy and passion.  I will forever be grateful for the words of encouragement from my dear friend Anna Lyslet, and for the way she has broadened my horizons. And to my two rescue dogs who keep me company when I write.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

EPILOGUE

DISCLAIMER

CHAPTER ONE

1996

How does one know that their life is about to change forever? Instinct? Premonition? Are there any warnings? Or do we all simply walk blindly ahead into danger as Susan did that day, when everything seemed so innocuous? Whatever it was, blissfully ignorant, Susan forged ahead as she walked towards the old building. Preoccupied, she opened the door but wasn’t prepared for the blast of cold air she felt, a welcome respite from the unsparing Texas sun. The well-lit interior was soothing, and much nicer than she expected.

Susan located the stairs and easily climbed them; staying in shape was important to her. As she reached the second floor, she had no problem finding what she was looking for—Suite 206. Dr. Frederick Duran, Psychiatrist, was proudly embossed in gold-colored letters against the background of the tinted white glass door. She hesitated, then opened the door and entered her surroundings, curious about what she would find.

The room was empty, and the silence caused her to feel uneasy. Ahead was a counter with a set of frosted glass sliding windows. Susan walked across the room towards the counter and saw a sign-in sheet attached to a clipboard. It was blank. Odd, she thought as she wrote in her name and time of arrival.

After she was done checking in with the receptionist, Susan chose the chair that was closest to the entrance, or exit.

No more than five minutes later a door opened, and Susan had her first glimpse of Dr. Duran. Standing in the doorway with black-rimmed glasses, he looked like a professor who would have been more at home, trying to inflict wisdom into bright, young, inquisitive minds. His light brown hair had evident streaks of gray at his temples, further accentuating his scholarly appearance.

Wanting to have the upper hand right from the start, Susan quickly arose from her chair and went to greet him. Looking him directly in the eye she said, You must be Dr. Duran. My name is Susan Moreau and I am here for my 10 o’clock appointment. Her actions reflected her attitude—she was determined to control the situation.

Caught off guard, he quickly recovered. Yes, of course. What a pleasure to meet you, he replied as he held out his hand to shake hers. Susan didn’t like to be touched by strangers, so she chose to ignore it. As inconspicuously as possible he withdrew his out-stretched arm, letting it fall casually to his side. Let me show you the way to my office, he said, beckoning her to follow as he walked down the short hall.

As soon as she walked into the room, she closely studied her surroundings, wary of what she might find. There was a couch with a nearby chair, and a bookcase filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Most of them looked well-read with their cracked spines. But some looked new, awaiting their turn to be read. Diplomas and what appeared to be certifications were neatly framed, hanging on the wall in a prominent position, so they would be easily noticed. The only thing remarkable was his desk; it was made from highly polished mahogany.

Dr. Duran stepped behind it and sat in his well-worn chair. He smiled and politely said, Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable, with a look, and tone that she could tell was an attempt to put her at ease. It didn’t work. As she sat in the chair, her feeling of apprehension remained, causing her body to tense as she stayed on guard.

What brings you here today? he asked politely. Even though he was average-looking, his pleasant expressions almost made him look attractive.

I’ve been experiencing some depression. But I’m fine; if my husband hadn’t over-reacted, and insisted I come, I wouldn’t even be here.

I’m glad he did. Depression is something you need to take seriously.

I would take it seriously if I felt it was cause for concern.

Obviously your husband must have disagreed. Did he share his reasons for insisting you come?

Yes, he did, but we had a difference of opinion, and since I’m not planning to return I don’t want to waste your time sharing them.

You won’t be wasting my time. I’m genuinely interested.

I guess I’m just not comfortable sharing. No offense but I don’t know you.

None taken. What if we just talked for a while?

I don’t have anything interesting to say.

"I doubt that. Can you tell me a little about yourself?

Not much to tell.

"What about your childhood? Where are you from originally?

I was born in Alaska but I’m not from anywhere.

Why do you say that?

"My dad was in the Army, we moved around a lot.

"I notice you’re wearing a wedding band. Can you tell me about your husband?

Why?

"Just trying to make conversation. Can you at least tell me his name?

It’s Paul.

How long have you been married?

"Sixteen years.

How is your relationship.

Susan didn’t like personal questions but was trying to be patient. Something that didn’t come naturally. But she felt his last question crossed the line and it made her angry. None of your damn business.

You’re not going to make this easy, are you? he asked, then laughed. Susan didn’t react.

"Can you at least tell me where he’s from?

How is any of this relevant?

It’s only relevant because, as I said, I find you interesting and I’d like to learn more about you. What harm can come from answering my question?

He’s from East Texas. And yes, he does have the twang to prove it, although I’m happy to say, he’s lost all but a hint of it.

‘I don’t think having a Texas drawl is such a bad thing. Do you have any children?"

You ask too many questions.

What if I said that I only had one more but that it’s an important one?

I’d say be careful.

Okay, then let me get straight to the point. He smiled at her again trying once more to put her at ease. But her body language showed that she was still tense and on edge. He took a deep breath, as if to brace himself, then he said, So, Susan, don’t you think we should talk your depression, so you’ll have something to tell Paul about our session?

Why don’t you let me decide what I plan to say to Paul?

I became a psychiatrist because I enjoy helping people. And I think you came here because you want my help, even though you deny it. You strike me as the type of person who wouldn’t allow yourself to get trapped into doing anything you don’t want to do. Yet here you are. This time his words weren’t followed by any expressions except a sincere, earnest one.

Susan knew it was true but was cautious. She’d learned at an early age that trust was something that few deserved. What makes you think you can help me?

Because I’m good at what I do.

Susan let out a deep sigh. We’ll see. My depression has lasted for several months and is getting more severe.

Susan, I’m glad you shared that with me. I can you help you. There are ways to treat your depression, so you can feel good again.

His words gave her a feeling of hope, but then instinct took over. People lied; she knew that to be true. I don’t see how that’s possible.

What would you say if I told you that a chemical imbalance in the brain causes depression, and that there are medications that help restore that imbalance, thereby relieving it? I’ve helped many people with them, people who now lead happy, productive lives.

She felt herself wanting to be one of them. Then he added, I also use therapy and my patients find it quite helpful.

The thought of therapy, with all the dreadful secrets she had was too much. Well, not me. We’re done. She stood and left so quickly, he didn’t have time to react.

Nobody is going to fuck with my head.

CHAPTER TWO

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On the way home Susan thought about what had happened. There were parts of her life that she had carefully built a wall around, a wall necessary to protect her sanity and she was afraid of what would happen if she ever let them down. She didn’t want to find out. Susan relaxed when she arrived home and was greeted by two of the family pets, Evie, a German shepherd, and Ginger, their dachshund. She showered them with attention, until they seemed satisfied. Missing was their cat, Misty, who was probably hiding from the overzealous dogs.

Trying not to think of her troubles, Susan went about cleaning the house and putting everything in order. Susan had put a lot of time and effort decorating and she needed everything to be exactly where it belonged. She was done in time to walk to the bus stop and wait for her children. A few minutes later, the bus arrived, and after they emerged, Michelle, nine, her youngest, dared her to beat them as they raced home. As usual, both girls were nearly bursting with news of the day's events. Susan paid close attention as they chatted and, as always, felt amazed by them. Nicole, fourteen, was blissfully discussing a book she was reading for English class, whose contents captivated her vivid imagination. Then they heard the phone ring and Susan watched as Nicole raced to answer it. She heard Nicole greet her grandmother. Mee-maw wants to talk to you mom.

Susan crossed the room and Nicole handed her the receiver. Thanks Nicole.

You’re welcome.

Hi mom, what’s up?

I’m going to Italy for three weeks this summer and I wanted to see if Nicole could go with me. We’d be staying with your uncle Frank so the only thing you’d have to pay for is her airline ticket and then give her some spending money. And if you buy her ticket now it won’t be that expensive.

She’d love that, but I need to talk to Paul and see if we can afford it.

Just let me know soon.

Okay, I will. I think Nicole wants to talk to you some more, she’s gesturing wildly at me.: They both laughed. Love you mom. Here’s Nicole. She handed the receiver back to Nicole, but told her, You can’t talk long, you have homework to do. Nicole nodded, and then quickly started chatting with her grandmother.

Michelle piped up, demanding attention. Don’t forget you have to take me to dance later.

As if you’d ever let me forget, Susan replied with a smile. Now go start your homework so you’ll be ready.

I don’t want to do my homework now. Why can’t I do it after dance?

Because by then you’ll be tired. This isn’t up for discussion, if you want to go to dance you have to get your homework done.

Fine. But I think you’re being mean. Then she went to her room. Susan let out a sigh of relief, Michelle was a sweet child, but could be very difficult at times. It didn’t help that she was partially deaf and sometimes misunderstood what was said to her.

After about 15 minutes she told Nicole it was time to for her to do her homework. Nicole said goodbye and without a word went to do as she was told. Trying to avoid thinking about Paul, Susan attempted to occupy herself, but had difficulty concentrating. With relief she heard Michelle, who had been eagerly watching the clock, announce, I finished my homework. It’s time for dance; we have to leave right now.

Okay, just let me grab my purse. I do need my keys after all, don’t you think? But Michelle wasn’t about to allow her attention to be diverted from her goal and paid no attention to Susan’s attempt at levity.

Well then, hurry up Mom, she said, as she raced to the front door.

Later in the evening, after dinner, Paul and Susan told Michelle to get ready for bed. Unexpectedly, she didn’t resist.

You must be tired. Ms. White needs to give you workouts like that more often, Susan teased.

But Mom, I had so much fun.

Nicole gave them both good-night kisses, and then gave her mother a furtive look, her face filled with worry. I wish she’d quit looking at me that way. But she knows something’s wrong, and what can I say that would assuage her fears without acknowledging them to be true? I must fight harder, she told herself, as if she could rid herself of her depression through sheer willpower alone.

I’m going to read for a while, but I promise I won’t stay up past bedtime. Good night. Her face now had a contented look. With relief Susan could tell her thoughts had moved onto her latest adventure; then she left, and a moment later Susan heard her bedroom door close.

Susan waited until she knew both her daughters were asleep before turning to Paul. She’d felt calm, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she thought of Dr. Duran’s words and her rage erupted from deep within, shocking her for it seemed to have grown in ferocity. I can’t believe I listened to you when you told me to see a psychiatrist. It was a waste of time and I didn’t like him.

Why would you say that?

He pissed me off, that’s why, she retorted, louder than she intended.

His mouth formed in an uncharacteristic frown. Ssh, you don’t want to wake up the girls. Tell me what you’re upset about, Susan. He crossed his arms in a defensive stance as if to brace himself against the upcoming onslaught.

Because he told me I needed medication and there’s no way I’m taking something that will mess with my head like that.

Well, what else did you expect him to say?

Susan never lied to Paul, but she didn’t always tell him the whole truth. I don’t know.

Susan, couldn’t you have at least talked to him about it? Maybe, it would have put your mind at ease.

I don’t need medication.

Sweetheart, maybe you do. Your depression has been a lot worse this time. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you before you’ll believe me, but there’s no shame in letting someone help you.

I just don’t need it.

Susan, there’s something else, isn’t there? What aren’t you telling me?

Her only response was to look away.

What is troubling you? I’m not letting this go, I know it has to be important, or you wouldn’t shut me out like this.

She didn’t respond. Susan talk to me. Paul insisted but she remained unmoving. Would you at least look at me?

Finally, she turned her head; her expression gave no hint as to how she felt. I’m going to bed, she said, her tone so flat it reflected no emotion.

Upon hearing it, his voice filled with concern. What the hell did he say to you?

I told you. Are you coming to bed or not? Susan asked, still sounding emotionless.

No, not until you tell me. You haven’t acted like this in a long time. This just can’t be about needing medication, so what is it?

Let it go, she said, then started to walk away.

No. We’re not finished discussing this. He reached out and pulled her back.

She slapped him hard. He stood there unmoving, looking stunned, the left-side of his face turned red, where it bore her handprint. Her mask dropped, and her expression showed the horror she felt at what she’d done. I’m so sorry, Paul. I don’t know what came over me. Please tell me you can forgive me.

He looked at her, but not with anger; instead his kind face expressed both love and determination. I will forgive you when you stop evading my questions. Now tell me what he said. I can’t imagine what could have been so terrible that just my requests caused you to react that way. Susan had never raised a hand against him before, but had once threatened to, after hearing him tell Michelle he was going to give her a spanking for her unruly behavior. Her words and action made it clear she would not tolerate anyone striking her daughter. They also brought back memories of things she had tried to keep buried behind that wall she had built in her mind.

He said I needed therapy. Her eyes shone with anger as she thought of the prying questions he would ask and the unbearable answers that couldn’t be allowed to escape