Insomniac Read online

  deadly deception insomniac

  p. j. mann

  Copyright © 2018 by P. J. Mann. All Right Reserved.

  ISBN: 978-952-69159-2-0

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Chapter 1.

  It was seven o’clock in the morning when her alarm clock started to ring, with an annoyed grunt Laura stood up from the bed and went to open the curtains.

  Her mood didn’t improve at the sight of that sunny spring morning. To be honest, all that beautiful and cheerful weather annoyed her, as she knew she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.

  “Why can’t I sleep the way everybody else can?” She yawned, turning around.

  “Am I really asking too much to be able to sleep for more than a couple of hours every night?”

  Insomnia was a curse, and for all the people who have not experienced it, she felt jealous. Every night as she stood up to look outside of her window, the sight of those black windows reminded her of her failed capability in accomplishing one of the simplest tasks; falling asleep.

  Routinely, she switched on the television to listen to the news, as she prepared her breakfast, and at about a quarter to eight, she left the house.

  “Good morning,” greeted Grant, her neighbor, as he was also going to work.

  “When I find something good to say about this morning I will let you know,” she replied disgustedly.

  “Another of those nights, huh?”

  “Yeah, I am wondering why my brain feels so active when instead it should feel dizzy and comfortably ready for a long night sleep. Shouldn’t it be something natural?” She complained, feeling sorry about being so unkind with Grant.

  “You know, even though I have never suffered from the same level of insomnia as yours, I used to find it difficult to fall asleep sometimes. I can understand how you feel. Nevertheless, I was wondering if you ever tried any psychotherapy for that.”

  She turned her gaze towards him and stopped for a moment before coming inside the metro station, “do you mean to go to a shrink?”

  “Why not?” He replied simply. “I also used to be a skeptic until I went to this Dr. Wright. A friend suggested that I pay him a visit, and I can tell you that his methods, although they might seem a bit unconventional, they work.”

  “Dr. Wright?” She asked

  “Yes, if you want I can send you his address, I should still have it somewhere in my email directory,” he replied.

  “What kind of therapy did he use with you? I can already tell you that I have tried all sorts of sleeping pills herbal products, essential oils, even yoga but nothing has worked. The only result was to get my body accustomed to that sort of product, making its effects null,” she warned resolutely.

  “No, no nothing of the sort, he used a type of group therapy, combined with some mild relaxants. At least for me, it worked, so perhaps you should give it a shot. If it doesn’t work, you can say that at least you tried,” he proposed.

  “I am not convinced yet, but at least you can send me the address, then I might think about whether it is worth it to try or not. I need some time to consider the possibilities,” Laura replied, thinking about the possibility to try at least.

  “You will see, and I hope that he can find a way to help you, I can understand what it means not being able to sleep. Although I had a milder problem than you have, I found it very difficult during the day to focus and concentrate on my job.”

  “Tell me about it. The positive thing is that at least I love my job, so I do not have to make much of an effort to carry out my duties.”

  “Well, this is my stop, see you later. Have a nice day!” he greeted rushing out of the train and waving a hand.

  “Bye…”

  She stopped to think about what he just said, that perhaps this is what I need to get some regularity in my sleep? Could it be that all I need is this sort of psychotherapy to get some relief?

  Sincerely, she never thought about it, perhaps because she felt that asking for help to a psychiatrist was something way too radical, but maybe this was all she needed; something drastic to shake her up and to get rid of a problem that has started to compromise her entire life.

  After a couple of stops, she jumped out of the train, walking in the direction of the main library. She was working as a curator of a local library. It has always been her dream to work there, and when a couple of years ago there was an opening for a job as a curator, she didn’t hesitate.

  She wasn’t sure whether she had the right skills to do the job, but something she was sure about was that she was practically born and grown up in that library. She spent more time there than in her own house. She loved reading, and the smell of ink, paper, and leather mixed with the aroma of aged wood was something that had the capability to soothe her. She was feeling like the library was home and considering that her apartment resembled a library, this was not even that far from the reality.

  “Good morning Ms. Jefferson,” one of the librarians greeted as she saw her.

  “Good morning to you, Clarissa, but why don’t you call me by name?” She wondered.

  Clarissa didn’t reply, she just shrugged and smiled.

  Since the beginning, Clarissa started to call her Ms. Jefferson, but whether in the beginning, this pleased her, she hoped that by the time they got to know each other, she would have also started to use her first name. Eventually, this never happened, and Laura wasn’t sure whether it was a sort of sarcastic way or she just preferred to keep the distance.

  Laura reached her office through the kitchen to get her morning coffee; she didn’t need any coffee, but it seemed like the day could not start if she didn’t have the cup with her as she started up the computer. Once the coffee machine was broken, and the repair work took an entire week. During that period starting up the day became difficult.

  Routine was a word she treasured, and she filled her life with small habits she repeated during the day, like little mantras to make sure that her life had a steady direction and she was following it. After about a couple of hours, she received the email from Grant. She read the address of Dr. Wright, but before thinking about contacting him, she decided to get more information about him, and the best way was to search on the internet. She knew that this was not exactly the right way, but she was looking for some sort of feedback or reviews of his methods; people who were treated by him and had a positive experience.

  A few minutes were more than sufficient to understand that she just found the man that perhaps could help her. There were many patients leaving feedback about him, and most of those were positive reviews, the few others were just neutral, but nobody seemed to have anything negative to say about his therapies.

  She considered the possibility for the rest of the day, and when she was ready to leave, she decided to call the clinic and ask for an appointment with Dr. Wright. She explained briefly her situation to the secretary that answered her call and the reason why she searched for help from Dr. Wright.

  She mentioned that Grant, who has been his patient, recommended his therapy and she was impressed with the amount of positive feedback the Doctor received.

  She was expecting to be put on a very long waiting list, but with her luck, the secretary scheduled her an appointment for the following week; Thursday afternoon.

  She hung up the phone and wrote the appointment in her agenda, plus on the calendar on her mobile phone, to be sure that she wouldn’t have missed it, setting
the reminder one day in advance.

  Later that evening as she reached her home, she thought she should pay a visit to Grant, to ask him more about Dr. Wright and his experience with the therapy. Also, she wanted to thank him for the recommendation; she realized how rude she had been towards him that morning and wanted to apologize.

  Scott, Grant’s boyfriend, came to open the door. “Hi, there,” he greeted, inviting her in.

  “Hello, Scott, how are you doing?” She asked, knowing that he had a case of the flu not long ago and was still recovering.

  “I can’t complain, it seems like the worst part has gone and now I just need to regain my strength. I think I will go back to work next week. Can I get you a coffee or a tea?” He offered, as he started walking towards the kitchen.

  “Yes, a tea will be good for me, thanks,” she replied following him.

  “Did you come just for a visit or were you looking for Grant?”

  “I came to see Grant because I wanted to thank him for sending me the address of Dr. Wright. He suggested I should ask for his help to solve my little insomnia problem,” she explained, sitting at one of the chairs.

  “Oh sure, I remember he had some problems with falling asleep or getting a full night sleep. He was waking up in the night, and for him to fall asleep again it took something like two or three hours. It had been a nightmare, poor thing. However, I can confirm that since he followed the therapy, Dr. Wright suggested to him, he could now fall asleep without any problem.”

  “I have an appointment next week on Thursday.”

  “So early? You have been lucky, or perhaps he needs people for one of his experimental therapies. To have an appointment Grant had to wait for close to a month, as there was a long waiting list,” he replied surprised.

  In that very same moment the door of the apartment opened, “Hello, baby; I’m home!” Grant greeted.

  “Welcome home, sweetheart, we are here in the kitchen.”

  “We?” Grant wondered. “Are you bringing your lovers home these days?”

  Grant reached the kitchen, smiling amused.

  “I don’t think I will ever even make it to his list of potential lovers,” Laura giggled, as she stood up from the chair.

  “Look at who’s here,” Grant hugged her. “Is there any particular reason for this visit?”

  “Yes, I wanted to drop by and thank you for sending me the address of Dr. Wright. I decided to give it a try, and I called to schedule an appointment,” she explained.

  “Think about it, she got the appointment for next Thursday, isn’t it fantastic they were able to get her scheduled so quickly?” added Scott.

  Grant looked surprised at her, “really? It means that he has a group that needs to be filled up. But this also means that you will have an excellent chance to get treated in a matter of a short time; this calls for a celebration.”

  He went to open a bottle of wine and Scott grabbed three glasses.

  “Well let’s keep the celebration for the day I will finally be able to sleep for one entire night,” she giggled.

  “We’ll celebrate with a fancy dinner then,” proposed Scott, pouring the wine for them.

  That evening in her bed Laura thought about the chance of being able to fall asleep without any problem. With the same ease that comes from closing the eyes, and immediately after you are in dreamland.

  “And now for sure I won’t be able to fall asleep,” she said aloud, amused and disappointed at the same time.

  She grabbed the book she had on her bedside table and started to read, being sure that before she would have fallen into a light sleep, it would have passed at least four hours. However, the book she chose was quite voluminous, and she wasn’t afraid to be left with nothing to read.

  ***

  On Thursday afternoon, she reached the building where Dr. Wright had his clinic. She stood up in front of the door and felt doubtful about coming in or walking away. She wasn’t sure anymore whether she should try and get help for her insomnia with some psychotherapy. However, Grant assured that Dr. Wright was the only person who could have helped her with that problem.

  She remained for one moment recalling how she felt every morning after experiencing a sleepless night, and that was not something that happened only occasionally.

  “No, I cannot keep living this way,” she whispered to herself, and with a sharp move, she opened the door leading into the clinic.

  She walked the long corridor before reaching the waiting room. She sat down and started to read a book she was carrying with her, hoping time would have passed faster that way.

  She reached the end of the chapter and didn’t realize that, at the same time, the door of Dr. Wright’s office had opened.

  “Ms. Jefferson?” He asked, looking around the room.

  As she heard her surname called, she jumped like she received an electric shock. “Oh… That’s me,” she cheered, walking towards the room.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Jefferson, pleased to meet you. Please, take a seat and tell me in more detail the nature of your problem. I understand you have some difficulties with your sleep, is that so?” He asked.

  His voice was calm and gentle, the kind of voice that can make you at ease in any circumstance. He had a nicely modulated voice so that Laura felt immediately safe and soothed by its tone.

  “Yes, Dr. Wright. Most of the times, I can sleep up to five hours per night, and that is not even a continuous sleep. Then, there are those nights when I sleep only one or two hours, the rest of the night is spent tossing and turning in my bed,” she tried to explain, feeling uncomfortable recalling the experience.

  “Can you connect any stressing situation to those nights when you cannot sleep more than two hours? For example, some extra workload at your job, some argument with a friend or a loved one, problems with bills …?” He asked as he leaned on his armchair to get more comfortable, and ready to listen carefully to what Laura had to say.

  “I have never thought about it, but I do not believe there is anything that can connect my lack of sleep and some external situation. My problem started back I was a teenager; however, it just didn’t start all at once. It was something that happened gradually.

  I cannot even trace precisely one exact day or period, as my problem started with one occasional sleepless night here and there. Eventually, the cases started to become increasingly frequent, until now, when it is a rare event to have a full night sleep.”

  Dr. Wright nodded, with a slight smile.

  “What sort of therapies have you tried so far?” he asked curiously.

  She remained silent for a moment, thinking about all that she had been trying during all those years and shook her head hopelessly at that thought.

  “I think I have tried almost everything, sleeping pills of any sort they helped me at first, but after a certain period, their effect seemed to fade, to the point that they became useless. I tried all kind of herbal therapies, but all they do was help me to relax, but sleeping… not so much.

  I have also tried some hypnotic melodies. You know, those melodies which need to be listened to right before laying down in your bed. But nothing seems to help,” Laura replied.

  Recalling all those methods and remedies made her feel more and more skeptical about any other therapy Dr. Wright could have prescribed her.

  Dr. Wright observed her every move trying to understand more than she was willing to reveal, and if his instincts were once again right, like in the previous case, she would have been the perfect patient.

  “Ms. Jefferson, I fully understand the feelings you might have and all sort of doubts about the therapy I am going to propose you. The fact is that, together with a colleague of mine at the University, we are trying to find a definitive cure for cases like yours. I would like to ask you if you might have been interested in joining our research and testing a new therapy.”

  Laura wasn’t convinced what sort of therapy, I wonder, she thought pensively.

  “Does it have anyth
ing to do with taking some experimental drugs?” She wondered already fearing the answer.

  “Not really, the drugs I am prescribing you are based on natural relaxants, nothing that hasn’t been already significantly tested. The difference is the combination of those relaxants and hypnotherapy. You will be inserted into a group of people who suffer from the same sort of sleep disorder. We will spend one month in a place that has been rented for the purpose, and engage in a series of group sessions, where me or my colleague, Prof. Doyle will act as moderator. Together with the group sessions, there will be some private psychotherapy sessions, as they will be needed to understand whether the response of each patient to the therapy can be considered consistent with the others.”

  She still felt some hesitation, wondering whether this was what she was looking for. She wasn’t really a social animal and whenever possible she’d chosen the company of a book to that of a fellow human. Moreover, she wasn’t sure she should become some sort of guinea pig to test a new kind of drug.

  “Ok, well…” she commenced. “Admittedly I accept to be part of it, what if I want to quit?”

  “You are not a prisoner; you can quit even the very first day if you so desire. However, why do you think that you would like to quit? What are you afraid of?” He asked calmly.

  “I don’t know, perhaps is just the fact of sharing personal facts in front of strangers…”

  “You do not have to reveal anything with which you are not comfortable with. The general tone of these group sessions will not go deep into the details of your personal life. You can decide to keep those details for the private sessions,” he assured.

  “Yes, but…” She didn’t know even what she should have asked for. “You are simply proposing me group psychotherapy, why this would be different and how? I mean this doesn’t sound like some new radical therapy to be tested. I am not a psychiatrist, but group therapy has been used for a long time, there must be something more than that involved.”

  “Indeed, the idea of group therapy is not something new. However, generally, those people are gathering once or twice a week in a clinic and have their sessions. In our case, you will be a guest at the hotel we have booked for the purpose and will spend the entire month there. Your sleeping time will be closely monitored as much as your non-sleeping time, through meters you will always carry with you. Those meters resemble bracelets like this one,” he said taking a small rubber bracelet from his desk, handing it to her.