Bad Dreams

In his dreams he has no name.  People in his dreams have no names either. It was only later that he had names for them. He would hear people talking, one at a time, coming from downstairs. Except, their home has no downstairs.  It is a single level home.  There is a basement but the door leading to it is always shut and, besides, it is too far away from their bedroom for voices from there to  even be intelligibly discernible.

He kept having the same dreams. He would talk in his sleep, which often wakes  his wife up. He went to a therapist who recommended that he keep a voice recorder at the night table that will be activated during his REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep for a few nights. He was instructed to tape the two sensors at each of his temples close to his eyes. It will detect REM and it will record his speech. So, for the next few nights he slept in the spare bedroom so as not to disturb his wife.

He started having bad dreams when pressure from work, the physical stress of long commutes, the unusual toll of a marriage going on its third year, no children but the prospect of having one or more, seems to have all conspired to bear down on him all at the same time.  But, he didn't feel overwhelmed  or stressed to the point that it was affecting his job.

After three nights worth of recordings he brought the tapes to his therapist who told him to come back in a few days after the tapes were transcribed. 

The therapist had the recordings transcribed for each night's session. On his next visit  the therapist gave him the transcribed copies on a thumb drive. The voices in the recording, he was told, varied with  different individuals talking.  The therapist told him to label the speakers however he wanted them labeled, or named.  That is how he later had names for them who individually kept repeating the same things over and over. After a time of listening along with the transcribed pages he had no difficulty  identifying who was speaking.

From the transcript he identified each speaker and he wrote down labels/names after each set of voices.

"Why do I have this kind of career? What is this I'm doing?  This is not what I expected to work on after college.  This can't be my lifetime career, is it? Why did I get married?  Why?"    (He wrote - 'Regret' for a name for the speaker whom he swears does not resemble his voice)

"I am not to blame.  This was not my fault?  Why does everybody think this is my fault.  I didn't do this, no!"    ('Blameless')

"I am not going to be a fitness freak ever again.  After a hard day's work, why bother going to the gym.  Who needs it?  I get worked up at work, it is getting harder everyday just to get up every morning.  No more workouts.  So what if I can't run on the treadmill for one minute.  No more gym!     ('Neglect'?, Not  sure)

"My boss? He just can't do anything wrong. Ivy league school paired with the smarts and ambition.  Oh, a wife from a well off family, palatial home in the suburbs, business he inherited from his wife's family, nice car, what else? Other than he's got everything?  Arrgh! ('Envy', me?, Nah)

"This is my life.  You call this living? Vacations in places within no more than  the 200 mile radius? All within the state, every trip by car? This is not the life I signed up for".   ('Bitter', who wouldn't be)

I can't be doing this.  I will no longer do this.  I give up.  Please give me a break, no, I won't"  ('Resigned', to the idea that this is my life).

"What can I do?  I need this job. But I don't need an aggravated life. My marriage suffers from that.  My wife says she understands, but I don't know.  How can she?"  ('Confused',  I don't know).

Afterwards, he collated the transcripts with his notations and emailed them to his therapist.  Later in the week he called the therapist. 

"Well, doc, what do you suggest?"

"This is actually new to me, to be frank with you. I am going to send a few emails to some of my colleagues. I'd like to see what they think."

"You mean this is not in the textbooks?"

"No".

The doctor continued, "Let's see what my colleagues say. I really don't know how to proceed with a treatment, if it is needed at all, We'll see".

He went home.  He told his wife how the last session went.  There was little his wife offered to comfort him or offer any kind of sympathy.  She did say, she wasn't worried or concerned.  None of their friends know.  She hasn't told her parents. His parents live out of state and he has no siblings. He did tell his best friend, who shrugged it off as coming from the usual stresses at work.  "Don't worry about it",  his friend said.

For several weeks following his last therapy session, the dreams stopped. He still had dreams but they were different from those he complained about. They were "normal" dreams, he told his wife. His therapist has not called so he didn't either.  He kept the recorder on. Nothing. Except for the usual "sleep sounds", there were no voices.  He no longer talked in his sleep. 

Then one night, he had one of those dreams again.  His wife woke him up. It was 4:00 a.m. He didn't go back to sleep.  He brewed some coffee. By daybreak, after breakfast, he showered, dressed and went to work.

At lunch he called his therapist.  

The doctor asked, "Was it the same group of voices or personalities talking?"

"No.  It was a new personality and perhaps a new voice if recorded on tape".

"You know one colleague suggested something. Actually, as we speak, the tapes were sent to a lab to determine the pattern via voice print analysis. New technology, as you might imagine, that I think might shed some light".

A week later his therapist explained what came out of the voice print analysis.  "Each of those voices talking in your dreams are really one person. You. You'd wonder but it is naturally not unexpected because, after all, it was your voice and yours alone that the recorder picked up. But we have to wonder why the voices have different nuanced ways of speaking, including accents and all manners of speech."

"But", he began his protest, "those voices are all from different people, I can tell.  Can't you tell?"

"Yes. I have patients who under hypnosis can speak with different voices - accents or manners of speech different from the patient and they all have different personalities. One patient may have anywhere from a handful of different personalities during hypnosis and a few patients may have as many as two or three dozen different ones.  They'd come out one at a time and would in some cases know of each other". 

"As weird as that might seem, not only is it real, though it is uncommon but not extraordinarily unnatural when viewed from a clinical point of view", the therapist continued. "You see, it seems that your subconscious manifesting itself in the dream is exhibiting multiple personalities as in an actual personality disorder that patients suffer from".  

"I know about split personalities  but are you telling me I am one of those?

"No, I am not saying that at all. You are a normally functioning person who is able to hold a job and go on about your life as normally as everyone else except for quite an unusual way of dreaming at night " .

"So, why am I having these dreams?"

"A layman's explanation is that your brain is acting up in your sleep."

"I don't even know what that means?"

They both sighed almost  simultaneously. "Let me ask you something.  Is your job performance at work affected?  How does your boss rate you as an employee?

"I'm glad you asked that.  I just had my review. My boss  told me I'm doing well at meeting my targets and he was recommending me for a higher grade when salary reviews come around". 

"Fantastic.  So, what are you so worried about? I think you need not spend any more of your money on coming over to see me."

"Not to worry, doc, the company insurance pays for it".

"Well, all right, so I'll recommend a visit with me once a month from now on.  Really, when all is said and done, it's just dreams.  If they do not get to the level of being nightmarish as to affect you and your job, and most of all your personal relationship, particularly that with your wife, then you have nothing to worry about".

"Doc, can I keep recording, at least for another week, maybe?'

"Now, the clinic will charge you for the transcription but, yes, keep the machine for even a month.  You can email me if there is anything you will be concerned about but if it's nothing earthshaking, you don't need to. Those are words of encouragement, mind you, not a way of dismissing you at all."

"Thanks, doc, I'll stay positive."

His wife protested about the recording and him using the spare bedroom again but she acquiesced when he promised it was going to be for just a week or so.

He eagerly checked the recordings after the first night when the dreams started again. There was nothing.  By the third day, the dreams came back on again.

As soon as he woke up the following morning, he checked the recorder right away.  It was one voice he has never heard before.

"Hi! I've been meaning to talk to you.  I know you've been listening to several people in the middle of the night. You will probably not believe this but I know too that you've been seeing a therapist.  Furthermore, I know you had  names for each of those who've been talking to you. Proof, you say? Envy, Bitter, Resigned, should I say more? I am your subconscious. All of those voices are part of me. We exist only in your dreams.  We are your safety valves, if you will, and we aim to help you. We stay away during your waking hours.  That way you are not aware of us to intrude into your conscious thoughts. How is that possible?  Do you recall way back when you actually had us in your waking consciousness and you prayed and meditated to free yourself of us.  Since then we, I who is talking to you now and the others, agreed to stay away during your conscious moments. But we are creatures of your brain. So, as an accommodation, your brain allows for us to exist only in your subconscious. You want proof that we mean well?   We leave it to you?  This much I will tell you.  We will intrude only sparingly from now on. But you are the best judge of that, do you understand?  Until then."

That was the end of the recording.  He sent the thumb drive of the recording later that day to his therapist.

It was one week later when the therapist called his home when he was not picking up on his cell phone.  His wife who picked up the phone told the therapist that her husband was at the gym and perhaps he didn't have his phone with him.  His wife asked the therapist what it was about, wondering why the doctor seemed concerned.

"Doc, you never call here at home. What's up?  There was a few seconds of silence, then the doctor spoke.

"Well, I probably needed to talk to you anyway but not until I've spoken to your husband".

"As his wife, don't you think I have a right to know about why you hesitated for a moment?  I know about patient/doctor privilege and all that but this is me, his wife".

"Okay. Your husband left a message on my voicemail after I had received the last transcript of his dreams.  The lab technician here suggested that perhaps we needed to compare your husband's voice he left on my voicemail with the voices in his dream.  I don't know if your husband mentioned this but we have this technology now that can analyze voice prints the same way finger prints can be identified."

"Yes, he did".

"Well, what we found is that your husband's voice on my voicemail is different from the voices that were on the recorded tapes during sleep.  You know what that means. We were wrong to tell him that it was him all along. I told him that even when accents and manner of speaking were different, it was him doing all the talking. Our voice technician is certain that it was from one person, it just wasn't your husband's, meaning the voice in my voicemail is not the same that was in his dreams".

"What does this all mean?", the wife asked.

"I hate to say this, but it means that the voices were contrived and the recordings are bogus, except the one he left on my voicemail.  This begs the question .."

Before the doctor could finish, the wife interrupted, "You said just moments ago you wanted to talk to me", then a momentary pause.

"Perhaps now is the time because I have a confession.  Do you have a moment?

"Now, I have. A full hour even and it won't cost you a dime. Really, I'm dying to hear what you have to say".

"Several months ago I noticed my husband was going through so much stress at work and here at home. I knew it was tearing him apart.  His attitude, his behavior, how he treated me, his attitude towards our relationship were so unbecoming of him at best and quite unconscionable  a number of times". 

I reached out to his best friend.  I know you're not going to like what I will talk about. You will think it is unethical, let alone downright crazy."

The therapist interrupted, "I will be the judge of that, go on, please." 

"His best friend proposed something that I knew was an absolute non-starter, had the circumstances been not so desperate on my part. But I agreed.  So, the fault is all mine".

"Wait, what did you two do?  I'm a psychiatrist, not a priest you know, so I do not deal with sin and forgiveness and all that.  It is about the mind that I deal with".

"Please, I thought you wanted to listen".  Before the therapist can protest she went on.

"His best friend suggested. And I agreed".

"No, stop, please".

Ignoring the therapist, she continued, "His friend told me that he has a friend who is an actor and who is very good at mimicking voices, accents and different manners of speech. He was going to ask him to record different things to say on tape.  It was crazy I thought at first but he convinced me. 

"What do you mean he convinced you?  With what?"

"I was desperate, remember what I just said moments ago? You heard the recordings, you read the transcripts. Those were all recorded by his friend".

"Why?"

"The last recording he sent you about the voice being his subconscious and all the voices talking about being this and that actually helped him.  He changed.  Did he tell you about his last performance review by his boss?  

"Yes!"  The therapist was excited. 

"Well, he got a promotion yesterday. He had been doing so great.  His friends, co-workers and particularly his boss noted the difference.  My husband's waking demeanor and zest for life and work, our relationship together have benefited from the dreams".

"How long have you been doing this?  How did you do it?

"I tell you doc, it was all worth it.  Took a lot to pull it off.  His best friend, thanks to him and his tech savvy, did all the recording, splicing and the tutorial he so patiently made me go through in getting the tapes to come on at specified times, but actually the recording machine you provided that had the attachments to his temple and all the REM stuff made it a lot easier to pull off".

She went on to explain about how they rigged the spare bedroom and all the activation mechanisms that worked so smoothly her husband had no clue what was going on.

"So there I confessed, doc.  You can tell him if you want. He'll be home in about half an hour".

"Who else knows about this, besides you and his best friend and the actor"?

"Actually, just me and his best friend. The actor thought he was recording for a party, some skit as a gag or prank. But he doesn't know.  So, now what do you want me to do?  Are you going to report this"?

"I have two things to say. What you did is irresponsible. The therapist paused.

"You said, you had two things to say".

"As reprehensible as it is, you and your husband's best friend did something incredibly stupid, unethical, so far out of the box, so to speak, but it worked.  Having said that, I will have to ask you to do two things.  Keep quiet, forever keep your mouth shut and forget the whole thing.  I wish you well but I don't want to hear anymore from you or your husband. Don't tell him about this call but don't worry I too will not say anything. If he calls me I will refer him to go somewhere else. Is that understood?"

"Yes".  

Epilog:

Some stories, every now and then, as is the case with this one are not what it all seems to be.  So far, what the reader has read is from the same perspective as the therapist.

The real story is that there was no best friend or actor.  It was all a subterfuge, a machination, if you will, created by the husband and wife. For what purpose?

Ten years ago two medical students - Armand and Zelda - before graduation had collaborated on a paper they planned to publish once they have established their career in psychiatry. Shortly before graduation and just months before starting their residency at the same hospital they were a couple in the eyes of their friends and classmates. Then tragedy struck.

The couple went kayaking that included shooting the rapids in Arkansas. Zelda's kayak got swept really hard on a bend. She hit her head against a rock and became unconscious in her capsized kayak and it took a couple of minutes before help got to her by a couple who were resting at the edge of the stream. It was not Armand who made the effort even though it was him in his own kayak just behind Zelda's.

She was in a coma for a couple of days. A fractured shoulder and a hip injury were the least of her problems. A brain injury and a lengthy rehab kept her out of graduation.   

Armand went on with his life, completely abandoning Zelda, finished his residency and later became a psychiatrist.  

Three years into his practice he published a paper in JAMA (Journal of the American Medical Association).  The paper was titled, "Dream Analysis in the 21st Century".  The sub-title was, "Post-Freudian and Jungian Methods of Dream Analysis".  Not mentioning it as a collaborative effort, solely claiming it as his research conducted among college student-volunteers that he and Zelda did together for much of their senior year, Armand took full credit.  He was amply rewarded with recognition and awards from his colleagues and senior psychiatrists in the field of analysis.

Meanwhile, Zelda took a year to recover physically and mentally.  She did not make it as a psychiatrist. Instead she made it as a staff psychologist at a children's clinic for the impaired and mentally deficient youths.  She made several attempts to reach out to Armand over the years. Armand not only ignored her, he treated her, even in the eyes of his colleagues, as a spurned lover in college who was trying to share the limelight of his success.

Armand is the therapist of the husband with the weird dreams in the story earlier. Zelda is the sister of the husband.  The husband and wife, who will remain nameless, hatched the idea on behalf of Zelda, who has no knowledge at all of the plot.

The husband and wife laid a trap.  The bait was his bad dreams and the story his wife told Armand.  

Seven months later the husband came home with exciting news. He showed his wife a copy of the latest issue of JAMA.

Husband: "He took the bait.  Armand, the scoundrel published last month a preliminary finding of his latest research on dream analysis.  He had just applied for funding to expand his research on a new psychiatric theory.  The title of his paper, "Applied Induction of Dreams to Relieve Stress". He went on to explain in the paper that he had developed a series of contrived recordings to help patients suffering from stress and other modern day stress related ailments by inducing the dreams into the patient's REM period during sleep to relieve stress during their normal waking hours". 

Wife: He did take the bait, didn't he.  He just cannot resist, can he?  What are we going to do next?

Husband: Let's allow him a few more weeks or months to relish the accolades.  Apparently, the psychiatry world is buying it. Let's have the fish take more slack on the  line. 

Approximately a year after the husband's first visit with the therapist Armand, transcripts of the dream recordings, the taped conversation between Armand and the wife, exposing the fraud of Armand's paper were sent to the editor of JAMA anonymously.

Within days the exposure collapsed Armand's world which imploded like a defectively constructed building during an earthquake.

P.S.  This is not meant to disparage in any way the value of psychiatry nor to diminish its role in mental health.  It is a work of fiction by an Idle Mind who has been kept away from the workshop due to the unbearably oppressive Texas summer heat. This is just a way to keep the mind busy while woodworking projects remain in the waiting list or when the part I've been waiting for arrives.

It is the part of me that wants to resume work at the woodshop where saw dusts will start flying again off the table saw or the router table.  It will be a long wait so I might as well channel the mental energy to something like this.