“How did you get on with the CBT I assigned you last week?” the therapist asked.
“Good,” I replied nervously, knowing it didn’t help shit. I hugged my arms and rubbed them to ground myself.
“You seem on edge.”
“Do you still believe you are killing people?”
I nodded again.
“Okay, I want to try something different this session. I want you to confront your thoughts head on. You see the rope on the table in front of us.”
“Yes,” I responded.
“I want you to pick it up.”
I reached forward and took the length of cord, feeling its scratchy fibers in my hand.
“That is long enough and strong enough to strangle me,” the therapist continued, “Are the thoughts with you right now?” she looked into my eyes, “They are, what are you thinking right now?”
“I want to take this rope and put it around your neck and squeeze.”
“Good, that’s okay, that’s no problem. Come over here.”
I was confused, but did as she asked.
“Now, put that rope around my neck.”
“Go on, it’s okay, you are safe here.”
My heart began to race, my hands trembling as I held the rope with both hands.
“See, you don’t kill people, it is just in your mind…uugggghhhh”
I pulled taught on the hemp cord, straining as hard as I could. Her legs flailed in all directions, her hands impotently tried to remove the ligature from around her neck, but she was too weak.
When her body went limp, I let go and slumped to the floor.
I smiled, it wasn’t all in my head.