70. My Hot Firecracker

“And the worst part is.. I always lose.” Dakota whispers dejectedly.
His revelation sends an icy shiver down my spine, painting a picture of a man who found power and peace in his own monstrosity, until it spiraled out of his control.
“Before, I had all the reins of my other personality. I decided when to let it out, and in front of whom. But now, I have lost the control of my beast and it takes over me anytime, without even me having a single clue about it.” He confesses, with a hint of helplessness in his voice.
“I began experiencing frequent headaches and blackouts. I have no idea why I canceled my meetings, or even order to construct a large swimming pool in my lawn.” His voice mirrors the same complexity my mind goes through while figuring out his unpredictable behaviour.
“There were moments where I find myself waking up on empty streets, sometimes in neighbour’s garden, and realise I was out all night, without having a single memory of the event.” Dakota continues, his voice growing more pained.
“So, I started locking myself indoors, which resulted in waking up to a room full of broken furniture, and my hands covered in bruises, while being surrounded by knives, shattered glass and other sharp objects.”
My lungs do a silent gasp as I picture all the disturbing things he has gone through because of his mental illness. It’s horrifying to even imagine!
“Therefore, I replaced all the windows, glasses with hard safety glass, and built an AI system to mechanically lock all the cutlery drawers in the kitchen and disable hazadous appliances, including electric sockets in the house via voice command and a passcode only I can spell.”
*Eve*.. My mind whispers.
So the AI system he created was not to spy on his property, but to protect himself from himself.
“I already have an old relation with insomnia, and now that my mind is a chatter of whispers, it amplifies a hundred times. And even if I manage to get some sleep, then my terrifying nightmares always welcome me. Fuck!” His voice shaking, conveying the heavy toll of his horrifying reality.
“I am so scared to sleep at night, not knowing if I’ll even wake up or in what condition!” Dakota exhales in fear, and I feel his tremors resonating through me.
“So I installed cameras all over the property to monitor my behaviour. They record every second, allowing me to review what I did during my unconscious moments, how frequently I black out, and what trigger these episodes. They help me piece together and keep track of my senseless actions.”
Suddenly, it feels like I found missing pieces of the puzzle, that I am now beginning to unravel, one by one.
“Even after putting a mountain of efforts, I still couldn’t cage my other side and it frustrates me so much.” He breathes out excruciatingly. “So, I started confining myself to my empty room, where there are no ways to hurt myself.”
I couldn’t help but feel pity for him. The way his beast has treated me, I could hardly imagine how harshly he would be bullying and dominating Dakota.
“But the whispers, they get even louder in a silent room. They overpower me and.. Fuck! I-I get so scared sometimes that I feel like the only way to stop these voices in my head is.. If I kill myself.”
My eyes widen as he whispers gloomily, almost like he is at the bottom of a depressive ocean, unable to move or cry for help.
“But I know it is wrong.” He quickly adds, as if to reassure himself. “I shouldn’t give up on life, especially when I am blessed with good health, a home and two meals a day. I shouldn’t waste my intelligence and knowledge because of one mental disorder.” Dakota gulps heavily, pushing the words out of his mouth.
“That’s why I started spending more time in the office, coz until and unless my brain is busy working, I don’t feel my flaws. But when the night comes, and the effect of pills diminishes, that’s when I really start to feel vulnerable and wretched from inside. I feel so pathetic emotionally, that I hate myself to every inch of my existence.”
As I lie there, listening to his quivering words, my heart aches for Dakota. I squeeze his hand in mine, providing the only emotional support I could offer.
“I feel like Minotaur, trapped in the dark labyrinth of my own mind. Forever running and hiding from the beast within me.” His voice breaks, resonating what he feels from inside.
At this point, I feel pity for Dakota, understanding how he is caught in an unending struggle with his own mind. A battle no one should ever have to face alone.
“Can’t you talk things out with.. your beast?” I ask, trying to grasp the complexity of his condition.
“He doesn’t listen to me.” He admits, a note of resignation in his voice. “I have made him too powerful.”
“But you created him, so you can control him, right?” I tell him, trying to light a path in his dark world.
“That’s not how it works, Emara.” Dakota takes a deep breath, and I feel his warm chest pressing into my spine.
“I have split personality disorder. There is someone else living inside me, a personality that is different from me, who has his own thoughts and desires.” He explains to me, his breathing heavy with emotions.
“My mind.. It hallucinates another voice in my head, dictating me, ordering me to do things as he wishes. We two are not the same. There is always a cold war going on between us, fighting over who controls my life.” He explains lucidly.
“But he is a part of you, born from your past trauma, right?” I try to reason with him.
“Only you can truly understand and restrain him. Listen to him. Talk to him.” I insist, clinging to the belief that there must be a way for him to regain his power.
“I have tried everything, Emara. Counseling, therapy, medication.” Dakota retorts, his voice itching with frustration as he says, “He is beyond control. Pills can subdue him temporarily, but in my weakest moments, he still overpowers me.”
I feel his heart thudding rapidly through me, hard and fast, emphasizing the gravity of his situation. *If pills can’t control him, then what else could?*
“It always happens when you are around.” He whispers almost inaudibly.
“Me?” I ask him shockingly, feeling him nod in response.