When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My friends and family were standing around me. Apparently I had been in a coma for a week or two. I asked about Mary and my mother’s eyes immediately welled up. A doctor approached me and said in a soft voice that Mary didn’t exist, I had made her up. She was a creation of my imagination. This enraged me and I tried to strike the doctor but I found myself strapped to the bed. The doctor gave me a shot and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next time I woke up, my mother was alone in the room. When she realized that I was awake she walked up to the bed, put her hand on mine, looked me firmly in the eye and said:
“- Sal, these games you play must stop. You almost died. This Mary-persona you created is not real. You did all of this to yourself. Remain calm! I am not lying to you. Nick found you unconscious in your apartment, in a pool of your own blood. Had he not dropped by when he did, you’d be dead now.. Please, just stop.. We are going to get you the help you need. We are so sorry.”
She burst into tears and I lay there, shocked. She had called me Sal. Suddenly it all came back to me.. I was Sal. The person that had been watching over “Sal’s” demise had been the better part of me. I had been living in my mind for months. I had created Sal and Mary as a shield. I was Sal. I just didn’t realize it. Mary was not the girl of my dreams.
Mary was the name I had given my disease. My depression. I remembered it clearly now. How I had stabbed myself, slit my wrist to speed up to the process and how I had wanted to die so badly that I was prepared to do whatever it took to get out of the prison that was my mind. I had single handedly created three versions of myself, and lived in a disillusion. I was lucky to be alive. That night I cried. The tears that broke through my facade functioned as cleansing. I was still here, and I wouldn’t let “Mary” get a hold of me again. I promise you Mom, I promise.
©Alexander Berg Mattsson, 2012