Chapter 2: Dr. Feelgood/Felderman

Charlotte's POV

PRESENT DAY

Life in the asylum wasn't nearly as bad as one might expect it to be. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that I missed Stephen so desperately, I would be nearly content. My room overlooks a beautiful courtyard. I don't have a roommate. Well, not anymore... we don't need to go into that right now. They've even got an exercise center. Not that I ever USE it, but, it's here. If I want to smoke I have to go outside, but, let's face it, where DON'T you have to go outside to smoke these days? The food isn't that bad. Not much worse than my own cooking, truth be told. In fact, I've been here for about a year now, and the worst thing I've encountered is really bad coffee.

Well, that, and the fact that everybody here believes I'm crazy. They say that the difference between psychosis and neurosis is that the neurotic is afraid they are crazy. That if anybody knew what they were REALLY thinking, they'd be locked up. But whatever they've fixated on, be it, germs, sex, time, whatever, doesn't nearly qualify. The truly crazy are those that don't know it. They think they are completely normal.

I know I'm not crazy. And I'm not obsessed with sex, germs, or time. At least, not any more than any other person I know. I know that I don't belong here. See my dilemma? The resident shrink on my floor wants me to talk about my feelings. About why I think I don't belong here. About what happened. But like I told him, it's too hard to talk about it when I'm looking at him, knowing he's judging me, thinking I'm crazy. So he suggested I write it down.

So that's what I'm doing. This way, when even you, and he, don't believe me, which you probably won't, and I accept that, at least I won't have to face your eyes. That may be the worst part, when people think you're crazy. The look in their eyes. The mixture of pity, sadness, and superiority. You know that they are thinking to themselves, well, my life isn't perfect. My husband is banging the nanny, I gained five pounds, my boss hates me. But at least I don't have THAT problem. I have to go. It's time for group therapy. I never say anything, what's the point? No one believes me anyway. But I get in trouble if I don't at least sit there, listening to them drone on about themselves. Hi, I'm fat (the anorexic down the hall who weighs about 10 pounds). I'm an alcoholic (now that one's true, Callie has been hiding vodka in the heating vent for weeks now). I'm a loser (Billy may or may not be one, that's up for debate. He did rob a convenience store, but his reasoning wasn't quite there at the time. I'm still giving him the benefit of the doubt).

***

"So, Charlotte, how are you feeling today," my shrink, Dr. Feelgood asked me today in group. Of course that's not his real name. He's actually Dr. Felderman, but I can't resist a good double entendre. I like words, I always have, so sue me. "You've been quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

Now this was a trap if I ever heard one. I actually was thinking about the night Stephen and I made love by the fireplace in my house. His husky whisper when he told me that he loved me, and promised that would never leave me. Even now, even after everything that had happened since, it made my heart ache with longing for him. I may or may not be crazy, I wanted to scream at him, but I'm definitely not stupid! I knew that Dr. Feelgood/Felderman meant well, but I just didn't want to be misunderstood.

In the real world, that happens to me sometimes. I am not good with adults. Kids, yes; dogs, absolutely. Adults, not so much. In the real world, that might translate into having to sit alone at lunch, which I'm fine with. But in the hospital, you really need to be careful about that sort of thing. I did NOT want to start off my morning in a straightjacket.

"I was just wondering, is there any chance of me getting to go on a group outing soon," I asked, and tried to keep the desperation out of my voice, "I would really love to get out into the world again. A little change of scenery would be nice."

I really, really wanted to get out, just for a little while. The thing about being in a lockdown facility is, well, you're locked down. And when that door slams shut and I hear the lock engage, it does something to my brain stem. I feel trapped every single time. And I know, I know, it's for my "own safety" that I'm in here. I don't like to remember the chain of events that led me to this particular situation. But I nonetheless could have used a break. Fresh air for longer than my fifteen minute walk in the garden area. In my old life, I was an avid gardener. But in my old life, I was a lot of things.

"We'll discuss that in your private session later on today," Dr. Feelgood/Felderman said, and adjusted his glasses. That was his tell, the glasses adjustment. That meant no, not right now, we need to talk about a few things first. I was willing to bet a lot that Dr. Feelgood/Felderman was a terrible poker player.

"Of course," I replied neutrally, "I was just wondering about it, that's all." Keep calm, I told myself, whatever he says next, don't react like you did last time.

"So Charlotte, have you had any thoughts about Stephen lately," he asked, equally neutrally, but he had a lot less on the line than I did, "Have you seen him, perhaps?"

"No, I haven't actually," I told him, and resisted the urge to expound upon that, "I've thought about him, but he hasn't come to visit me in here yet." Stephen hadn't come to see me yet, and I wasn't sure why. It bothered me a lot, actually, but I knew that wasn't the response the good doctor was looking for.

"And how do you feel about that," he asked, gently, but I knew it was another carefully laid trap. If I said that I didn't care, then he would know I was lying. I couldn't pull that off yet. But if I admitted how desperately I cared, then I might never get out of here. For some reason Dr. Feelgood didn't seem to want me to see Stephen.

"I'm sad, but I accept it," I told him tentatively, "I know that it's just not possible." I could tell that I had given him the answer he was looking for, because he nodded, marked something down, and moved onto Billy. Billy always had something fun to contribute to group, and I personally was looking forward to whatever he had to say.

"Yeah, I've got something to say," Billy announced loudly in a fake English accent, and gave me a wink, "The coffee here sucks!" Billy always tried to help take the spotlight off of me during group, and I appreciated it more than he knew. Everyone laughed, and it took several minutes to get the session back on track, just as Billy had known it would. I mouthed a silent, "thank you" to him, and he grinned mischievously in return.

Dr. Feelgood/Felderman just didn't understand the connection Stephen and I had. I was also willing to bet that he'd never been in love either. At least, not the way Stephen and I were. I felt sorry for him. He might be able to leave this place, but he would never get to experience what I had. He and the doctors were obviously trying to keep us apart, but it would never work.