Strayed and Stayed // You Found Me.

1 - Exordium - The Beginning

Exordium - The Beginning
Chapter One.

"Freud believed that people could be cured by making conscious their unconscious thoughts and motivations thus, gaining insight. The aim of psychoanalysis therapy is to release repressed emotions and experience.... That is, make the unconscious conscious. It is only having cathartic experience... Healing... That can help the person cure."

This fascinated Kainat. Life fascinated her. It wasn't easy on her. But then again, she wasn't easy on life either. She challenged it, the way it challenged her. Kainat was 26 years old, and still studying. She wondered when this would end... She knew when, but figuratively speaking. She sighed, looking at the front of the lecture hall, she sat in the last bench, doodling in her notebook. It helped her listen well if she did.

"From an exam point of view... Iss theory ko ratt lo..." The professor went on and on.

"Therapist ke point of view se bhi sikhaado kabhi kabhi." She muttered under her breath, annoyed.

She absolutely loved what she studied. It made her feel satisfied of herself. Kainat was extremely practical in life. She was a go-getter. She looked down at the book in her hand. The thick novel. It was brand new. Guest lectures irritated her, and she loved reading. So these novels were perfect for a rainy day like this one.

"Write notes. I don't want to." Her friend muttered from next to her.

"Mhm. I'll take your sessions also abse." Sana nodded, exasperated.

Her eyes beaded over the words. So simply written, but her heart literally fluttered in her chest. She was a slight fan on this writer. She had always been a fan. Since school. These books were her escape. She chewed on her lip and read and re-read a line on the page.

Her eyes were bloodshot. Her chest rose and fell. And the phenomenon of the rising sun and the glimmering moon could not justify the magnificence of her sunken blue orbs. The candence of my pain had begun. She had stopped blinking, she just stared. Waiting. Longing. Seeking. Pleading almost, with those precious eyes. But my feet were impaled onto the carpeted floor our shared home. She pulled the door open. But I was the one who pulled the trigger on us. She left. Here began; the surge of my torment.

She felt her heart drop into her stomach. She was an ardent reader of painful romantics. That was the only source of impracticality in her life, that was the only place where she spared her emotions. Because real life was a sore. It was a sad, depressing, worn out life. That's all. But this writer, he wrote to her soul. He spoke to her. He wrecked her very heart with his words. She was a fan. She adored him.

"Kainat. Miss Kurian. Would you like to share what you're doing down there?" The professor asked sternly. Her head shot up quickly and she picked up the notebook from the desk and opened it up to a random page that had her handwriting in.

"Looking at the notes from this class, sir." She lied through her teeth, so confidently, showing him the page.

"Read it out for us. Let's see if you were actually listening." He said.

"Uhm... Uh... Okay. So... I wrote it down rough... From what I understood. Dissociation is a mental process of disconnecting from one's thoughts, feelings, memories or sense of identity.... When the play of personalities come in, Freud believed that the unconscious mind... Impulses, and pleasure... That are traits of the id personality, have become factors that drive human behaviour that is erratic, impulsive, driven with pleasure, and selfish motives. They feel dissociated with their concious selves in the process and have frequent episodes of amnesia, depersonalisation or...." She said. It was simply out of her own knowledge, from the concept they had been discussing in class.