Thursday, 27 November 2008

A story about delusions

Here is a story about the experience of having a delusion. I have changed tack again and want to explore delusional experiences instead of portraits because I think representing the mentally through their physionomy alone is inappropiate and cliched.


It was a cold night like any other. I didn’t feel cold walking past the infirmary, because I was kept warm, by light of 6 billion brilliant flames, burning from every soul on the planet.
Jesus Christ was taking me to the Borough, for a drink. Would you believe he was in disguise as my friend Tony all along, I was amazed too, but it all made perfect sense.
He had a goatee and long hair.
As we walked along the street, he occasionally looked up, he was showing me all the things that belonged to me, from the buildings, to the stars, burning in honour of me. He didn’t say anything and we carried on walking. As the cars drove past, he looked at them now and then, this was to indicate which were carrying people I new in past lives. He looked really cold, but I knew this was another lesson, he was symbolically showing me the suffering I had gone through, to get to this point of realisation.
The air was so sharp and thick with magnificence, time had stopped. He was slowing down and rummaging in his pockets, ‘oh my God’ I think he is going to pull out an engagement ring, Jesus was going to make me divine officially. It was a cigarette, he put it in his mouth and produced a blue swan lighter. I realised this meant I was Mary, the colour blue made this true and the flame was everlasting light ‘AMAZING’ he draws in the smoke deeply, he was actually drawing in my very essence into his being, this meant we were married. WOW!
The world the Universe, everyone and everything in it was now mine, I was their Queen. I wondered with great anticipation what was waiting for me at the pub, some kind of
engagement party and coronation.
As we walked we stepped in unison and I linked my arm with his. We entered Queen Street, of course it was actually a promenade for this occasion. The pub was quite full with people all waiting for me, everyone turned to look at me as we entered.
Jesus went to bar and got the drinks, two pints of lager. The lager was actually gold and I took a sip, Jesus had a big mouthful, I clinked his glass in celebration. I smiled from ear to ear. My mind expanded and fragmented into billions points of light, I thought I might shatter.
Jesus went to the jukebox, he put some songs on that were written in my honour. ‘Insane in the membrane’ came on and a glass smashed behind the bar, everyone started cheering sarcastically, ‘Oh my God’, it’s a trick, a set up, my blood ran ice cold, the world actually hated and detested me, ‘IT WAS A BIG JOKE.’ I started to notice people laughing at me, terror set in, I looked at Jesus ‘OH NO’ he’s not Jesus, he’s the devil, the ‘goatee’. I looked into his eyes, they were, green and pin pricks. The drink is urine, I was in real trouble beyond measure. The muscles in my bottom started to contract, my heart was beating like a mouse and my stomach churned. I went to toilet and was sick. I came back, he was watching every move, as I sat down very slowly, his hand reached for mine. I felt freezing cold skin penetrate mine, I wanted to scream. I sipped my drink and became a bit more relaxed.
The epic adventures continued until medication stopped them. Now Tony is no longer Jesus, or the devil, although he still bears a resemblance, he is just a man and a good friend and I am just a person like any other.
On the one hand, I grateful that the medication takes away the terror, but I miss the connection I had with the universe and the world.

1 comment:

Pincus Panther said...

Marvelous depiction of delusory thinking process. I think I understand the sense of loss at the mundane return to reality, for all it's reassurances.

Van Gogh portraits

Sz Icon

Sz Icon

St Dymhna as shaman

St Dymhna as shaman

A story by Izzy

Live Forever

Once upon a time, in a place far far away, there lived a beautiful and spirited woman, who was like a wild flower.

Her hair contained the most incredible dreams and wonderful magic spells, from the most beautiful parts of the earth and from the edges of the solar system.

The wind of the East fell deeply in love with her and played through her lovely locks, it became such that she could command the weather.

One day the wind spoke to the smoke of her cigarette and told it to cling to each and every strand of her beautiful hair.
The cigarette smoke obeyed the wind and saturated through everyone of the golden threads and began to decay from within.

The bright sunshine of her days began to grow dimmer and colder and she was dragged deep under ground and was sent to Whitchurch Castle in the clouds.

Here she battled tooth and nail with demons and dragons. Spoke with angels and had untold adventures with good and evil.

The beautiful dreams that dwelt in her hair, turned into terrifying nightmares.

She went to the well to wash her hair, but the water would not cleanse or renew it. The sun refused to shine upon it and the saddest of all, the wind no longer wanted to play with it.

So the young woman by this time, had become a princess, scraped back her beloved hair into a ponytail and the gold sunshine began to grow out, taking her dreams and magic spells with it.

The Castle keepers were worried about her and so gave her a magic potion to rid the evil smoke that had claim of her hair.
An eternity came and went and she grew older.

One clear day the smoke had finally gone once and for all.

She was banished from the kingdom of Whitchurch and was now expected to toil the fields with the good men and women of the outside world.

She was now mortal and pined for the Easterly wind to play with her again, but he no longer loved her.

One cold morning, she had an idea to attract him back to her, so she sat at her mirror and plaited her hair into strands and put coloured ribbon on the ends to bind them.
Would he notice her again?

With her hair plaited, he would see a string of golden tears that she cried over missing him so much.

Now she lives in a little hut in the village and has worn her hair in plaits for 2,000 years.

One day she hopes it will be unravelled, when he remembers where he left his sunny days and warm nights with her on the moon.
The End

Illustration for story Live Forever

Illustration for story Live Forever
This is a drawing of the character in a story I wrote for a digital story telling course with the Four Winds

Bay Girls

Bay Girls
This is a drawing of two of my neighbours

Zippo face warmers

Zippo face warmers