"You don't know the capacity of your own imagination until your hallucinations become the only thing you have. It's all too easy when you're in prison, blindfolded, cuffed, and hanging from the air with earmuffs on, to see false images that are as pleasing as they are implausible. I just want to go back to the way it was in the days before I joined the Army. To see what's real instead of my imagination."

"Go on," my therapist said as she started jotting down notes. Her face was relaxed and she was smiling, as if I had just told her I was going to be her friend or something.

"You see, I don't see a street corner, or a jar, or busy passersby. I see a kingdom and I'm a wizard. I'm casting a spell that requires deep concentration, the passersby are my source of mana. When I complete the spell I'll gain another artifact to help me complete my quest."

"And what do you do with these artifacts?" she said inquisitively.

"I consume them in order to gain power. Each time I consume an artifact I gain more."

"I see. And when does the spell break? Like, when do you come back to reality?"

"I tend to come in and out. One minute I'll be stuck in my head and another I'll realize that I'm sitting on a street corner with a jar in my hand. Then I'll try my very hardest to go back because being there, in reality, is just... too painful. When I get in my head, it's kind of like, going to a different universe."

"Hmm," she paused, staring down at the notebook. "Have you considered that these trips into your head are a way to shield your mind from the hurt you endured while in prison?"

"Yeah."

"Have you considered trying hypnotherapy? It's been known to work on cases such as yours, and your sister has already agreed to pay."

"I don't know about that."

"If you want to try to help yourself come to terms with reality it's the best thing. Why not give it a shot?"

I felt a slight pulsing sensation in my head, and a moment later I saw the healer Cassandra in her purple robe, her scepter pointed at my head, telling me repeatedly not to misuse my powers or else I'd face the Tribunal or perhaps the King himself.

"Unfortunately, you must subject yourself to The Silencing," she said, "and only in that way will you wean yourself from the hallucinogenic dragon's blood."

"No!" I screamed, suddenly feeling the tightness of my robe against my skin. It was always weird to look down and see it after I'd been lost in the world where magic was done with electricity instead of mana and it wasn't OK for men to wear robes in public.

"Yes. Your trips have become too much. You've been reduced to nothing more than a common beggar. Please, take the Silencing and go home."

I jolted. "Matt?" the therapist said with concern, uncrossing her legs to make that she was ready to get up to assist me.

"Yeah, maybe hypnotherapy. I don't know."

"Why not? It could only help," she said with a smile again.

"I don't know. Maybe reality is all in my head."

/r/StoriesToThinkAbout