imaginary-friend

I__ considering keeping the shutters open, even if people are spying on me at night from the apartment across the street. Especially if they are spying on me. It makes me feel less alone. I have a mental camaraderie with that imaginary person and their imaginary gaze. I find myself performing myself for them and exaggerating my facial expressions so they can see me more clearly, like actors project their voices on stage. I__ miming myself.

If you were me you__ do the right thing, help your friends, because you__e not a coward,_ Mandy sighed sadly. __ covered up a murder because I was scared to go to jail and I did the wrong thing_ well, now__ my chance to do the right thing, to save someone__ life, because I don__ want you to die.___ave someone__ life? I__ no one,_ Alecto laughed morbidly. __ hundred and twelve years is definitely way too long to have survived. You__ be wasting your time and risking your own life_.___his is my life,_ Mandy declared, smiling sincerely. Alecto just looked concerned and very doubtful as the rain drizzled down the roads and sidewalks, towards the harbour where it fell into the ocean, indistinguishable from all the other water in the world.

Why did you revive me?_ Alecto repeated. __ell_ uh, well_._ Mandy hesitated, her voice full of sudden misery. __hey say there are five stages of grief, you know_ five stages. denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Not in any particular order. Anyhow, I denied your death, I was angry about it, I bargained with Mearth to try and get her to un-bury your site and I was depressed about the whole ordeal. One thing I just froze up on though was acceptance. I just couldn__ accept your death. It was really cruel the way you died, and I missed you so much_ Mearth, my parents, the cops, Dr. Pottie, they all thought I was crazy. When people think you__e crazy, that label automatically dehumanizes you, because people can use it to discredit everything you say with, __h, pay no mind to her, she__ just this crazy lunatic with a dead imaginary friend._ I just wanted to do something, anything to make it all go away, and I decided that I wanted to revive you.

I don__ like psychiatrists,_ Alecto told her. __ot because they don__ think I__ real, but because they have no idea what they__e doing.

Amanda, you finally decided to answer the phone,_ her mom exclaimed after picking up at the first ring. __here__e you been, what__e you been up to?___om, do you remember when I was a kid, I had a friend, he was a Personification of the Sydney Tar Ponds, sort of my imaginary friend?_ Mandy asked.__o, what in the name of god are you on about?_ her mom sighed in exasperation.__emember? Only I could see him, but he was real and he was my best friend when I was eighteen?_ Mandy insisted.__o, I don't remember Alecto Sydney Steele at all,_ said her mom all too quickly.

Some of the most evil human beings in the world are psychiatrists. Not all psychiatrists. Some psychiatrists are selfless, caring people who really want to help. But the sad truth is that in today's society, mental health isn't a science. It's an industry. Ritalin, Zoloft, Prozac, Lexapro, Resperidone, happy pills that are supposed to "normalize" the behavior of our families, our colleagues, our friends - tell me that doesn't sound the least bit creepy! Mental health is subjective. To us, a little girl talking to her pretend friends instead of other children might just be harmless playing around. To a psychiatrist, it's a financial opportunity. Automatically, the kid could be swept up in a sea of labels. "not talking to other kids? Okay, she's asocial!" or "imaginary friends? Bingo, she has schizophrenia!" I'm not saying in any way that schizophrenia and social disorders aren't real. But the alarming number of people, especially children, who seem to have these "illnesses" and need to be medicated or locked up... it's horrifying. The psychiatrists get their prestigious reputation and their money to burn. The drug companies get fast cash and a chance to claim that they've discovered a wonder-drug, capable of "curing" anyone who might be a burden on society... that's what it's all about. It's not about really talking to these troubled people and finding out what they need. It's about giving them a pill that fits a pattern, a weapon to normalize people who might make society uncomfortable. The psychiatrists get their weapon. Today's generations get cheated out of their childhoods. The mental health industry takes the world's most vulnerable people and messes with their heads, giving them controlled substances just because they don't fit the normal puzzle. And sadly, it's more or less going to get worse in this rapidly advancing century.

I know have lived, so many times, that the only thing I have left to remember is my writing, cause every single moment in life it's already written.

Your imaginary friend isn__ the problem, Amanda. The problem is that you don__ seem to have any real friends.

The child psychologist's clinic: where imaginary friends go to die, where dreams go to burn, where creativity goes to drown.

Gavin, I can__ talk to you here. People will call me crazy." My imaginary friend smirked. "But you__e already talking to me." "Well, I have to stop." His smirk grew cocky. "I doubt you can resist." And he was right. There was nothing I wanted more than to give my full attention to an imagined shadow and ignore those who ignored me in the real world. I wanted to talk out loud to Gavin__o play and laugh boisterously with him. In a dream I could justify such behavior, but to succumb to hallucinations while wide awake would only prove me insane.

Well, you__e not exactly social, are you, Mandy Valems?___h yeah, sure, because I__ just surrounded by genius to be social with in this day and age,_ Mandy replied with razor-sharp sarcasm. __ey, I don__ need anyone else! I__e got you, you__e my friend, and you__l be with me forever!___You won__ be with me forever, though_ said Alecto cynically. ____ like a spider__ web; anyone who is friends with me gets dragged into my troubles and eventually dies.___Poetic, dear friend,_ Mandy sighed, shaking her head. __orbid, but poetic.

He was everything I needed because his entire character had been molded by my deepest wants and desires. He was my rock when I cried, my playmate when I laughed, and my hero when I needed to imagine that one existed for me.

Severing our young and fragile friendship was a sad ordeal, but sadder still was the fact that this friend found it so difficult to respond to my immediate need, unlike a dreamed boy who always afforded me easy comfort. I couldn__ understand what was so hard about reaching out to hug someone. But judging by Gregory__ uncomfortable conduct I had to assume it was an honest trial.

Mandy would much rather have imaginary friends who were real than real friends who were imaginary.

A daily dose of daydreaming heals the heart, soothes the soul, and strengthens the imagination.

I know what I'm talking about, Alecto! When I think of Jud, I think of the times he wanted to be a coal miner, the times he took Wendy and me sailing in the harbour, the times he showed me how to play soccer, but I forgot all the bullying and I__l never understand why. And now you ask me, you ask me what happened once we were in high school. You said you didn__ understand what having a family was like, so ask me!_ Mandy was shouting at him without even realizing it, her words sharp and unforgiving.___._ Alecto started, hesitating for a moment. __ou don__ seem like yourself Mandy Valems, not at all_.___o, go ahead! You want to know what having a real family is like?_ Mandy snapped, turning to stare at him coldly. __sk me what happened, I__l tell you anything you want to know!___What happened?_ Alecto asked quietly, looking nervous and confused.__ stayed late after school in shop class when I was in grade 9, trying to keep my lousy grades up. I was building a birdhouse, something like that, and that was when Jud and all his popular jock friends came storming in, laughing and swearing like a bunch of pigs,_ Mandy continued. __o ask me what happened next.____ I don__ want to ask you what happened,_ Alecto replied.__sk me!_ Mandy yelled.__lright, what happened next_?_ Alecto questioned.

As an artist suffering from insomnia and working from my apartment, I had an artistic freedom to explore and create awesome stuff. I wore a robe and slippers as my work dress code. These are the days when creativity is my best imaginary friend. And I was crazy enough to create what people would call masterpieces.

It's like I'm dreaming of the imaginary friend Katie and I had when we were little. She'd been so real to us as kids. We each remembered Anna, that's what we'd called her, just like we remembered bits of our parents. But now, in this dreamscape of Paradise Lost, our imaginary third twin has all grown up.