“Now close your eyes,” she says to me as I sit there with my legs stretched out under the table. I crossed my arms on my chest at first, but then I remember about the body language thing. My gesture now, might suggesting her that I am not opening up to her. So I move my arms to my sides and let them rest there. I close my eyes as I was told. My mind begins to take over. Did I tell her everything? Have I missed something? Not that I am afraid that I didn’t tell everything as it is, but I need help and it would be nice if I could get over it as soon as possible. And to get that help I believe that I need to tell her everything.

She listened to my words with extra care when I was telling her why I am her. Or at least that what she wants me to believe. Nothing is sure for me in this psychological matter. I begin to doubt every little thing. She might just pretending to be my ally to earn my trust so I could open up to her. Either way it is, I have to tell everything so I could get her help. It was my choice to tell her everything. I need her help and she needs my trust. So it’s about give and take relationship here. I wish the world understands that.

“Try not to think about anything else and concentrate on your breathing.” Again, I do what she said. “Try to release yourself from your thought. On each breath you take, it will make you fall deeper into a relaxation state,” she pauses there as if letting me to catch up with her words.

“Now take a deep breath,” I take a deep breath as much as I could. I can feel my lungs expand, filled with air. Seeing me unable to take more air, she continues, “now breathe out slowly and release your conscience as you do.”

She repeats that until I lost count after the third. My mind is too lazy to think. “You are calm now. Very calm. Now imagine you are in your most comfortable place where nothing could bother you, away from your active mind.” I don’t think, I just flow with whatever happens.

I can’t see a thing. But then slowly an image starting to form inside my head. I can see myself curled up like a fetus. I am surrounded by nothingness. Somehow I feel so calm and relax engulfed by the darkness.

“Can you hear me?” Rose asks me. “Just nod your head if you can,” she continues. I nod my head.

“Where are you now?”

It take a while for me to answer. I don’t know where I am.

“So you can’t tell where you are?” I nod again to answer her question.

“Can you tell me what do you see? Any people around, or landmark, or anything?”

“Nobody and nothing is here but me,” I begin to explain what I’m seeing. “It is so dark here. I don’t know where I am.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that. We both know you are,” she pauses a moment, “you are in your sacred place. You designed the place unconsciously. So don’t think and let you subconscious answer my question. Nod if you can do that for me.” I nod and try not to think of anything.

“So tell me, where are you now,” her calm voice leads my way. Sure enough, when I stopped thinking, the other me inside my imagination starts to move. I can hear movement inside the darkness. Then slowly, I see a darker darkness in front of me. Apparently I was curled up inside a box.

“I am inside a box,” I tell her. My other self stands up and he gets out from the box.

“Can you tell me what kind of box? Is it a wooden box?”

“No.”

“A treasure box?”

“No,” I answer, “it is just a normal brown leather box.”

“I see,” she replies, “tell me more about the box. How big is it? Is there anything inside it?”

I explain to her that the box is big enough to have me curled inside it; just barely. I also tell her that there is nothing inside it. I can tell it’s an old worn-out box. There are scratches on the box. Some spot has lost it’s original color. There is a lock there with the key attached to it. Before she asks more question, the other me take the liberty to look around the place. It is a void. “Nothing else is here besides me and the box,” I describe my surrounding to her.

“I can see only darkness on either direction. There is no horizon here.” Normal people would possibly gone mad in my situation, not knowing about a thing. Or they might start to create things to comfort them. The unknown is too hard to handle for some people. I might gone crasy too if I have to deal with it alone. But I feel calm. This is the space I create, and my soul acknowledge that. I am composed more than ever. The box and I are enough. I don’t need to create anything or anyone else.

“Listen to my voice again,” she continues when I finished with my explanation. There isn’t much to explain anyway, “I will count to three. On each count, you will inhale as much as you can, and I will give you time to exhale slowly. And by the count of three, you will be twice calmer as you are now. Nod if you are ready,” she speaks gently to me as if I am a fragile thing. Maybe I am a fragile soul to begin with. The world has defeated me, and I am crumbling down inside. I wouldn’t be here if I hold a strong soul, would I? Before I start, I rehearse what I am going to do. I take a deep breath, and slowly breathing out. I give a weak nod, and she begins to count.

“One,” suddenly a great amount of water starts pouring in from an invisible faucet somewhere in this void. I know it’s not raining. I cannot comprehend the thing happens in front my very own eyes, in my very own imagination. I begin to panic. It is weird enough to have me here in the void, and now I am going to drown. I can’t understand how fast the water is flowing. The water has reached my neck when she says two. And by the time she gets to three, the infinite void had turned into an infinite sea. I am drowned in it. I was scared at first and swam to the surface. It is more or less three stories height with no edge. I try so hard not to drown. I wonder how long would I last. I am not an an athletic one to begin with.

“Just relax and don’t worry about anything. Take a deep breath,” she tries to calm me down when my breath became faster. I believe she knows what she’s doing. So I surrender to her voice and let whatever might happen to me, happens. I stop pedaling and begin to drown after taking a lot of breath. That would be the last time my lungs enjoy the oxygen. I treasure it and feel it run through my whole body to every inch of my cell. I think I am going to die at my first session of getting help. I should’ve not trust her. I shouldn’t trust anyone.

“Now let go slowly.” Hesitant at first, but somehow I feel like trusting her, even if she is trying to kill me. Something inside me telling me to trust her. Is it because her calming voice? Or maybe i just waiting someone to kill me rather than commit suicide. Oh what a coward I am!  So I let go, ever so slowly every last of it. Probably when I die inside my head, I would wake up from this vivid imagination.

“Good. Now take another deep breath as you go deeper into your relaxation,” she says. This time, I don’t do it right away. The words are absurd to me. How would I ever breathe inside water? I am not a merman. Or was it mean that she wants me to be one now? Yet myself there in my imagination does it without fear. He trusts her with his life. But he forgot that he and I are the same and I am not ready to die. But I can see, that I am breathing inside the water like a merman – like what she asks me to be. Well, I am not particularly changed into a merman like half human and half fish and stuff like Ariel, but I can breathe in the water like Aquaman. Nonetheless, I changed into something else here. Apparently, inside my mind I can be anything. I wish I can be anything in real life. I want to be whatever she asks me to be. Especially the person that could understand her in impossible way.

I begin to think of my girlfriend.

—