#now that's what i call good old CBT

[wyvernwhiskey]

Them core...

you and what

[mweothe11e]

OMG talk about luck, just saw that this game open also here's my information

INITIALS: SG

NICKNAME : Asteria

Q: What mythical/fictional creature do i think or feel nearly embodies my dark side

A; Shapeshifter suits my dark/shadow side appropriately as it's temperament is unstable, quirky and they carry out their motives discreetly and eerily similar to mine

Hi SG,

Thank you so much for participating in my Inner Demons ask game.

When you mentioned shapeshifter, it reminded me of the boggart in Harry Potter. Maybe you're adaptable to situations and can think on your feet?

So the cards I pulled are: Ace of Coins, Queen of Wands, 9 of Swords

Now this is a rather unexpected Inner Demon... Is it that you tend to manifest your fears and worst nightmares? But you struggle to manifest the life that you want? Another way would be everyone you wish good luck gets the wish that they want but it seems that good luck didn't fall onto you. It's like you feel like a wish-granting genie that can't wish for their own freedom.

Just like Aladdin's Genie, Genie is also a shapeshifter, but it's more for the convenience of the wisher, never just for the Genie. This is actually the first Inner demon that's really only noticed by yourself. It's like you have the ability to make others' dreams come true, except never of your own.

This Inner Demon is what I call the Master Manifester. What you struggle to understand is that you are someone's sign and answered prayer. But it doesn't mean that's all you ever are. You can grant wishes, even your own. The only thing is, you have to remove that old mindset of all being the genie in the lamp.

You are a modern-day Magician. You have the ability to make everyone's wishes come true, including yours. But you have to actually believe that you have control over your life. That's the plot twist in your inner demon. This is your sign to positive tell yourself that "Delulu is the Solulu"~ Just remember, be open to blessings with harm to none, okay?

So being able to manifest can go either way, so for it to be effortless, you have to do so with the least resistance? Meaning, like wishing others well without any expectations, that's how you casually manifest. The same can be true about your worst fears.

Remember, your focus is your energy; whatever you put your focus on is what manifests into reality. So if you keep caving into to your fears and insecurities, well... the universe might misinterpret is as you wanting more of that in your life.

So what you desire is actually you becoming more assertive and in control over your life. You don't want to just look good, but also feel great in your body. You don't want to just have money to have roof over your head, you want to have a fulfilling well compensated career. It's like, why only desire one when you can manifest to have it all?

Interestingly enough, I heard Neville Goddard. Do what you will with that information.

Now what you need to incorporate with your manifesting skills to achieve this confident era in your life is to deal with your insecurities, face your fears, and not let your nightmares and lack of self-esteem get the best out of you. Now this is where your self-motivated research comes in. If therapy helps you rid of your limiting beliefs, do that. If somatic therapy helps, go do that. If CBT helps you deal with your anxieties and fears, go try that out.

You need to first deal with what is blocking you from establishing a healthier foundation for your abundance mindset, before jumping in the gun to manifest the life of your dreams. I heard, your nervous system has been severely dysregulated and your stress levels are clearly showing in your skin and overall health. To see the results, you have to start within.

This concludes the end of your reading. Do let me know how this resonates with you. Feel free to show some support via my Buy Me A Coffee here (This reading is for entertainment purposes only.)

[choicescounselingsc]

First Responders and Mental Health: Father’s Day

Hey, it’s your humble former first responder here. Back with another blog.

Father’s Day. It’s a time to honor our fathers. But first I want to mention a recent loss.

This year will be bittersweet for a firefighter’s family who just lost their dad/husband/son on the 26th of May. He died doing what he loved. His family, friends, community, and FD family will surely miss him. His name was James Michael Muller. He was only 25 years old. He was a 7 year veteran firefighter with the Irmo Fire Department. He died when his department was assisting the Columbia/Richland County Fire Department with an apartment fire. His funeral was May 31st 2023. My heart goes out to his family, blood and fire. If you know anyone that is having a hard time dealing with this or any other loss, please help them reach out for help. Its only a phone call away. I could do a whole blog on loss of First Responders, but I’ll leave that for another day. RIP James Michael Muller.

So, to bring it around. Sometimes, as a father, you tend to have unknown (to you) certain anxieties. For instance, a FF may run his family through fire drills at home. It is a great thing to do. But to scare the crap out of your already anxious child into thinking her home is about to burn to the ground, as she is running out the door while you stand there with a match at the smoke detector. Yeah, probably not a good idea. I understand the concept now. But then, not so much.

Or as a LEO, come home from shift and try to get your kids to obey you. In your cop voice. Seriously. That may work at first but in the long run, not good for your kiddos. They are not suspects or criminals. I know that it’s hard to separate it when you get agitated or mad at them. Shoot, I still use my Paramedic voice. It’s second nature to you.

As I write this blog, I chuckle at these fellas. Folks that work in the public safety or first responders fields, tend to be very vigilant. We want to know the best way to handle a situation. It’s a great habit to have but we have to learn when to turn it off. Whether it’s to leave work in that patrol car when you sign off, or climbing in your POV when you leave shift. You’ve got to turn it off. You could be influencing your children into some of their anxieties if you go too far. Like Hypervigilance. It’s okay to be vigilant or even extra vigilant but be careful, it could border obsession or paranoia.

According to verywellmind.com, hypervigilance is someone who are constantly on guard and prone to overreact. They maintain an intense and sometimes obsessive awareness of their surroundings, frequently scanning for threats or routes of escape. They also say that it often occurs in response to some threat that triggers feelings of anxiety or a past trauma related memory.

One of the main causes could be from PTSD and anxiety disorders. It could also be a medical condition. You won’t know until you get checked out. According to the website, there are many triggers. You may not even realize that you have any of these disorders. That’s why it is very important to get a routine checkup. Mental and physical.

There are many different treatments for PTSD and anxiety disorders out there. Given by trained therapist. Exposure therapy and CBT are just 2 of the many ways to help. Here at Choices Counseling, we do these therapies.

So, if you or a loved one seems to be hypervigilant or paranoid-ish, get them some help.

They may even have to medicate but do so through a doctor. There is NOTHING wrong with getting help. NOTHING WRONG WITH GETTING HELP. Once more to the people in the back, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH GETTING HELP!!! BREAK THE STIGMA PEOPLE!!!!!!!

Happy Father’s Day to all you silly fellas and quit traumatizing your kids! I’m joking. Seriously though, I hope ya’ll have a great day. Please get a mental health checkup. Love on your babies and relax!! You deserve it!!!

*PS, go read that article on verywellmind.com on Hypervigilance. It’s a good article. *

SAMHSA hotline 1-800-662-4357

By Marie B, former first responder

[dulafer]

The CEO

Guys, here’s a ‘new’ one but very similar to my previous stories. I’m running out of inspiration? If you know of any hot suited studs on Instagram or somewhere, let me know. It’s a rough draft, so if you see errors, have questions, let me know - dclouser@mac.com

This is about a CEO needing some help from his brother, and his brother helping himself to his brother’s CEO life. 

Here’s the link to the final version:     https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mugjKu33rJUndXGHavghmiL7q83_YaRp/view?usp=sharing

VISITATION

I was once a rising financial superstar on Wall Street, making people millionaires overnight, loved by all, but that was years ago—I’m all but forgotten. A year before my release from the Brookhaven Prison Camp, I’m lead to a private visitor’s room and shocked to see my brother Parker and another gentleman.

“Well, well, well… Dumb, and you must be Dumber.” I greet them jokingly. The other guy, who looks familiar, jumps up to shake my hand, while Parker actually has a dazed look on his face. 

“Paul, Hi, I’m Shaun Birnley, your brother’s friend and President of Thomas Financial.” Shaun introduces himself then stares at me.

“You’re looking good bro.” Parker pipes up quietly.

“3 Keto meals a day, tennis and some great sex. This is more like a Club Med but without the beaches and alcohol. So what do I owe this visit?” I haven’t had a single visitor in a few years, including from my twin brother. Occasionally I get an email from him but I’ve been forgotten by all my ‘friends’.

Shaun keeps looking back and forth between us. “Shit Parker, this is freaky, he is your twin, no doubt about it. This could actually work.”

“It’s good to finally meet you Shaun, I’ve heard the name but I’ve been here the past 6 years.  What could work? What are you talking about?”

“You’re getting out in a year. We have a proposition for you, a ‘job’ possibly. One that would get you out a lot sooner.” Shaun says. 

“Parker, what the fuck is going on here? I don’t hear from you in years, now you’re both my best friends?  Offering me an early release?” Parker has a blank look on his face. “Parker! Are you high?”

“He’s not feeling well, that’s why we’re here.”

“I have PTSD, just say it Shaun. It’s not a big deal.” Parker explodes.

“Sorry, but you’ve never been in battle, so how in the hell can you have PTSD.”

“A few months ago, your brother was carjacked, robbed at gun point and beat up on the way home from work late one night. Ever since then, he hasn’t been himself.  He’s had a breakdown, is easily confused,  bipolar, panic attacks, sleeping issues, and total lack of focus.” Shaun explains. 

“Did they catch the guy?” I asked.

“No, the police are fucking useless, fucking useless.” Parker snaps awake for a second. 

“I’m so sorry bro. You look good, normal even except for that dazed look.”

“It’s some drugs ‘he’s’ trying but he needs in-person care at a residential treatment center.” Shaun is clearly in charge.

“Zoloft but it puts me in a daze and I can’t sleep at night. I’ve fallen to sleep in the office and almost during the last board meeting.”

“There are quite a few guys here with it, they get drugs and CBT psychotherapy, Cognitive Behavioral something or other. It seems to help.”

“See Parker, and you’ll be in the best PTSD facility in the world.”

“Yeah, in fucking California. God help me.” 

“It’s called ‘The Refuge’ in Big Sur, California.  Best in the world. It’s very private and confidential.” Shaun explains to me.

“You’ll be fine bro. Couple weeks of treatment and you’ll be back to your old self. Big Sur is stunning—.”

“Could be 30-90 days. That’s where the job offer comes in.” Shaun interrupts. “The CEO of Thomas Financial can’t be MIA. There’s talk of replacing Parker already.”

“Oh for god sake Shaun, spit it out. Paul Thomas is already signed up for the Refuge. We’re swapping places. I can’t have it leaking out that I went to the crazy farm for months.”

“Oh, so you need me, that explains all this. This is great. I’ve been invisible for years and now I’m not. Lose your baby for all I care. Fuck off! Guard!” I’m pissed. 

“We’ll make it worth your while. $5 million and a year of your life back.” Shaun yells out, catching my attention. 

“Now you’re talking.” The guard enters and I shoo him away. “I’m fine Timmy.”

“No one can know about this.” Parker demands.

“My ‘Parker’ is kind of rusty but I can do it. So is your therapist forcing you to go?” I have about $1m squirreled away for when I get out, and this $5 million will help. It won’t be enough but it’s a start.

“Hell no, we’re telling his therapist that we’re getting a second diagnosis and that’s all he’s going to know. A friend at the VA highly recommended this place.” Shaun continues to do most of the talking, which is out of character for Parker. 

“Let me think about this. I can stay here another year or get out, play Parker for a few months and make $5 million? I’m in.” I smile and in the back of my mind, the thought of taking over Parker’s life permanently would be the chance of a lifetime. With nothing better to do in prison, I’ve been following Thomas Financial, his career and social media for years. It’s an impressive accomplishment that I never thought he was capable of. I’ve been jealous of his ‘luck’ but will never admit to it.

“We’ll get you up to speed with every little detail of Parker’s personal life and job. I’ll be by your side the whole time too. Guard!”  Shaun yells and the guard comes back. “Tell the warden we’ve come to an agreement.”

“Lets get out of this place.” Parker orders Shaun. He’s trembling oddly. 

“Get whatever you need from your room. You’re leaving right now.” Shaun orders me. 

Back in my room, I let my cell mate Tommy know I’m being sprung from the ‘estate’ as we call it. 

“You’re joking?” Tommy says in disbelief.

“No, my brother is sick and needs my help.”

“Like a kidney?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Here, take this list.” He hands me a list of names. “These folks specialize in areas that could come in handy. Just tell them you’re a friend of mine and they will help.” 

I pack up just my personal belongings like MacBook and clothes. My life basically fits in my duffle bag. I give Tommy a hug and tell him to look me up when he gets out in a year. 

Shaun tosses my bag into the back of his Escalade and we start heading back to New York. Shaun does most of the talking while Parker is barely awake. According to Shaun, the Zoloft allows him to function most of the day but at night he’s violent and lashes out. He’s popping more and more Zoloft. When he does sleep, after popping Xanax, he’s having nightmares. 

A few hours outside of New York we stop at a Hampton Inn for the night. To keep me invisible, Shaun runs out for dinner leaving Parker to keep an eye on me. Trouble is, Parker looks exhausted and in a daze. If I wanted to leave, he couldn’t stop me. I just don’t have anywhere to go. Parker takes off his suit coat, hangs it on the back of the chair and rolls up his sleeves.

TESTING MYSELF

As soon as Shaun leaves, Parker grabs his leather overnight bag, pulls out a toiletry bag and takes out some pill bottles. “I’m not hungry, I’m exhausted, going to bed.”

“What are you taking?”

“Something to help me sleep and help me chill.” He takes pills from the bottles and I offer to put them back. One bottle is Zoloft, another is Xanax and the last is Ambien. I’m not quite sure what all he’s taking or what the effects of mixing them could be. Also in his bag, I notice his razor, toothbrush, cologne, deordorant and ‘Uppercrust Pomade’. 

“Parker is this safe? Mixing these?” 

“Shut up, you’re sounding like Shaun.” He dismisses me, struggling to even speak. 

“Let’s get you to your room.” A devious test comes to mind—fooling Shaun tonight.

I help him across the hall and help him get undressed. This room was suppose to be mine according to Shaun but Parker is so out of it, he doesn’t notice the switch. Parker climbs into bed and passes out in minutes. I quickly strip out of my clothes and start putting on the outfit he was just wearing. I slip on every item, starting with his still warm boxer briefs, socks, then gray dress pants, shirt and tie. Everything is a perfect fit. I lean over his body and remove his Omega watch and class ring to add to my identity. Finally, I step into his shoes and I add his vest, making sure to leave the top button undone. 

“You look great Parker.” I say to myself in the mirror as Parker is snoring away. I haven’t worn anything like this in years but it feels empowering. I check my rolled up shirt sleeves, fix my shirt collar and take in Parker’s identity.

Back in ‘my’ room, I unroll my sleeves, put his suit coat back on, noticing it’s a perfect fit.  In the suit pockets I feel his wallet and iPhone to go through later. I dig through my brother’s leather bag and find  a change of clothes for tomorrow. I look at my new watch and see it’s been 30 minutes since Shaun left. I spritz on some cologne then work his pomade into my hair, making sure I replicate his distinct part. My hair is a little longer but its not noticeable when I slick it back like he wears it. His razor come in handy to shorten my sideburns a little. I finish my transformation just in time as Shaun knocks at my door.

“Hang on.” I mumble, toning done my energy level to match Parker’s. Shaun comes in carrying bags of BBQ and a six pack of beer. 

He looks around the room. “Where’s the jailbird?”

“He said he wasn’t hungry, was exhausted and went to bed?” 

“Then he can have it for breakfast. I got you the baby backs of course, with baked beans. The place was packed so it must be good.”

“Perfect, I’m starving.”  I dig into bag and help myself to a beer. 

“Beer? With Zoloft?” Shaun questions me.

“Do you have wine?” I quip back knowing Parker rarely drinks beer. “A few sips, some Zoloft and Ambien. I’ll be set for the night.” I grin at him.

“Okay, I’ll be dragging you out of bed in the morning. You don’t think he’d run off on us do you?”

“Nah, he needs the money and where would he go? Plus, his entire life is in that duffel bag.” I point to my bag on the floor. “I also watched  thru the peephole after he went to his room.”

Just then my cell phone rings with the ID showing ‘Taylor’. I answer it without hesitation. “Taylor…. Everything is fine… Uh huh, yeah he’s right here.”  I hold the phone up and Shaun shouts “We’re fine, be back tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

I take back control of the call, talk another minute and hang up. Taylor must be security for me, checking on me. Neither Taylor or Shaun suspect a thing with my performance. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, then open my duffle bag, pull out ‘my’ drugs and pop some pills. They’re tucked under my tongue and I spit them out when Shaun turns his head for a minute. 

“So you think this will work?” Shaun questions.

“It has to or I’m in trouble.” I note, acting as if the drugs are kicking in.

“You’ll definitely be out as CEO, they’d have to keep me for a while.” He laughs nervously. 

I’m not sure of the details but act like I do. “Wouldn’t that be a twist.”

“I’ll trot him out for meetings, luncheons and the next board meeting but you’ll be back before it I’m sure. I’ll keep an eye on him, keep him under control and tell him what to say. I’m worried about something else.”

“What’s that?”

“I was trying to tell you two apart all day and I can’t. The only difference is how you’re dressed and your hair.”

“We’re identical twins. No one ever could, not even our parents.” I explain.

“That’s the problem. How can I tell, just in case he pulls some shit on us?”

“What would he possibly do?” I ask.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ve seen too many Lifetime movies where the evil twin kills the good twin to assume his identity.”

I chuckle. “Well, there’s one difference between us. I do have a small scar on the back of my leg.” I lift up my pant leg and show him my scar. “Got it trying to ride a minibike when I was 13. It’s hardly noticeable but is something.”

“No, something easier and less noticeable than having to see your scar. How about a simple wink if I call you ‘Stefan’?”

I’m curious why he knows Parker's middle name. “We’ll never need it.”

“Just humor me, ‘Stefan’.” He stresses my brother’s middle name as if it’s an order. “If I refer to you as Stefan you respond with some subtle action.”

“Fine, but I’m not winking at you. I’ll do this.” I take my hand and run it through my hair above my ear. I’ve seen Parker do it a few times today, especially when he seems stressed out. 

“Stefan” Shaun calls me and I run my hand through my hair. From now on, in Shaun’s mind, I’ll be Parker with our secret identity test and my scar. 

I yawn, stretch my arms out. “Hey, the sleeping pills are kicking in.”

“Get some sleep buddy.” Shaun gets up, grabs the beer and heads to his room next to mine. “Lets meet for breakfast at 8am.”

Once I’m alone, I start going through my phone, checking text messages and emails. Taylor is his body guard per some emails I find. He was hired a few months ago after the attack. There’s email from doctors at the Refuge about helping ‘Paul Thomas’. His FaceBook and Instagram entertains me for another hour before I pass out at midnight. 

I wasn’t allowed a phone in Prison but I did have computer access. It allowed me to follow Parker and Thomas Financial for years. My plan, once I was out, was to disappear and start a new life. I had no intention of ever talking to Parker again but now that I see how fucked up he is, and how he’s ruining his life, I have a better option. Parker isn’t giving me a job, he’s giving me his life.

I make sure I’m up early before anyone else and take a quick shower. I pack up Parker’s stuff and head across the hall. He’s still sleeping as I strip out of his clothes, return his jewelry and dress as myself. I start waking him, help get him into the shower, then dressed and down to the hotel lobby early for breakfast. With his hair gelled and mine product free, we’ll look totally different to Shaun. Parker doesn’t ‘remember’ the BBQ he had for dinner but says it’s normal for him these days—a side effect of the drugs keeping him calm. I tell him I didn’t eat, that I crashed before everyone. He accepts everything I tell him. 

We’re up early having breakfast, catching up so I start prying into Parker’s and Shaun’s relationship. I knew they were classmates at Penn and Wharton, and Parker hired him when he started Thomas Financial. Parker adds his history with Shaun. Shaun is married to Susan and they have a 5 year old daughter named Hanna. Parker was his best man six years ago. 

He confides their biggest secret to me—how they met and became friends. At their first frat party, Parker hit on Shaun and tried kissing him. He had a crush on Shaun, assumed he was gay or bi, and they both were drunk and high. Shaun thought it was funny, that his girlfriend at the time had put Parker up to it. Shaun has never told Susan because it’s embarrassing for Parker. It hurt when he mentions that Shaun is like a brother to him. I don’t complain and let him go on and on about their relationship.

Shaun shows up late and starts probing me about prison and my education. We eat quickly and fly home. I was worried that my little game last night would be discovered but the entire trip home, nothing came up. Parker even thanked Shaun for the BBQ, even though he had no memory of it. My theory is that Parker said it to appear normal. Shaun drops us off and takes off. Taylor always has weekends off since Parker’s gated community has its own security. From the looks of it, there’s more security here than at the white collar prison I just left.

AT HOME

“Make yourself at home bro. My bedroom is at the top of the stairs to the right, yours is across the hall. Why don’t you take a shower and help yourself to anything in my closet.” Parker offers as we walk into the foyer.  The place is very contemporary as is Parker’s style. It’s been professionally decorated because it’s too detailed. After a quick tour of his home, I take a shower then head to his closet to find something to wear. We may have similar tastes in home furnishings but we dress very differently. I’m more jeans and t-shirts and he’s more preppy. 

I’m overwhelmed when I enter his closet. It’s the size of four prison cells. There’s rows of suits, coats, shirts and wall of ties and shoes. I leaf through his clothes and try on a few sport and suit coats. Everything is a perfect fit. In his bedroom I find socks and underwear in a dresser, and jewelry in a free standing jewelry chest. I slip into tan skinny jeans and knit shirt, similar to what he has on. For shoes I grab a pair tan Chelsea boots.

Downstairs I find Parker stretched out on the sofa watching something on the TV. He seems to be in a daze.

“Ahem… you okay?”

“Oh yeah, just thinking about everything. My life was going perfect. I’m making gobs of money, I started dating this great guy and the business is running itself.”

“Your life looks fine, nothing has changed has it?”

“I’m having nightmares of a gun being shoved in my face, being kicked to the garage floor and laying there for what seemed hours till someone found me. I can barely function at work. If it weren’t for the drugs, I’d be cowering under my desk most of the day.”

“Well, therapy will help, I promise. I’ve seen plenty of guys with it in prison and they are fine now. My biggest concern is not fucking up your life while you’re away.”

“I’ve got two weeks to turn you into me.” He looks at me. “Let’s get haircuts.”

I follow him to the garage and I’m shocked at his automobile collection. There’s an BMW X5, Corvette, BMW 550i and 911 Targa. We jump in the X5 and he drives us further out of the city. He finds a Supercuts that’s busy and while we wait, I start questioning him about his life.

“Shaun will be the only person in on this scheme?” I ask.

“Yeah, he’s the only one. The board is already in revolt over my condition. If they found out I was admitting myself for therapy, I’d be ousted and Shaun would probably be made CEO.”

“How am I going to handle your job?”

“When we get back, I’ll show you everything you’ll need to know. My home office set up is basically a copy of my office. The computers are linked so if I create a file at work, it’s also on my desktop when I get home. Our company dashboard is there too. I’ll need to get you into my office tomorrow while no one is there.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“That’s easy, he’s in China on assignment and we sort of ended it. His name is David, we met at Ken and John’s wedding months ago. He hasn’t called or emailed in a over a week.”

“Friends?”

“Ken, John, Woody and Colin.”

“Who’s your best friend?” I probe.

“Colin, we dated for a year then decided we were better off as friends. He moved to Soho, with his boyfriend, doesn’t visit as much as he use to. You’ll have to attend the opening of ‘Oklahoma’ on Broadway in a few weeks. His boyfriend is one of the producers, got us front row seats.”

“A musical, how gay is that?” I laugh at him. 

“Don’t laugh, its Jeff’s life, Colin’s boyfriend. I don’t like Jeff and Colin knows it, but I told him I’m being supportive.”

“Okay, got it.” I become serious just as our stylist comes and gets us. 

They seat us side by side. They wash my hair, cut it and trim my eyebrows and match him completely. He’s stunned by my transformation. We’re identical down to every details now. On the way home we stop for dinner, then a cheap burner phone for myself. 

Back at home, Parker takes me to his home office and starts teaching me about his work life. He goes through some emails, then the dashboard and finally pics of key people he deals with. He writes down his passwords for all his work and personal websites.

Hours later, Parker takes his medication, rinses it down with some scotch, then heads to bed. He’s in his room when his phone rings. I’m curious as I hear ‘Shaun’ and sneak up to the bedroom door and eavesdrop on them.

“I got him cleaned up today… haircut, eyebrow trim and manicure…he’s perfect… I’ll work with him tomorrow, then send him to the office.” There’s a pause. “Oh that would be better… I’ll let him know. See ya tomorrow.”

I quickly run back to my room and start playing with my new phone. Parker comes in a few minutes later. 

“So here’s the plan for tomorrow. Shaun will pick you up tomorrow morning and take you into the office, show you around and groom you.”

“That makes sense. Who would question the CEO and the President in the office working on some things.”

“Exactly. I was just going to drive you there, draw you a map and let you figure it out.”

I can see the glassiness in his eyes as he’s standing there—the effects of the Zoloft and Scotch. He heads to his bedroom. Thirty minutes later I check on him and he’s snoring like a bear. I take his phone off his nightstand and head down to ‘my’ home office. I spend hours going thru the Thomas Financial system, getting more at ease with it. I take a break and head to the garage to admire my automobile collection. They’re too tempting sitting there, so I run to his bedroom, grab his wallet, leather jacket and take the Corvette out for a spin. At first I drive through the neighborhood, checking out the features. Later I jump on the freeway, getting it up to 80 mph. I play with the voice commands with “Take me to the office.” I’m rerouted to Manhattan and decide to check out my office. It takes me a while to maneuver around the parking garage but I find the Thomas Financial parking area and my own reserved spot. 

I have no clue what I’m doing but as I approach the main lobby, the doors unlock for me and security greets ‘Mr. Thomas’. I smile a hello, and see the elevator off to the right. All I know is that  Thomas Financial’s offices are on the 40th floor and Parker has a corner office.

Like the lobby doors, the elevators open before I even press a button and I’m automatically taken to the 40th floor, to the lobby for Thomas Financial. There must be an RFID chip in my wallet handling my access. Not far from the lobby I spot a large corner office and see ‘Parker Thomas’ stenciled on the door that unlocks as I approach. ‘This is too easy’ I think to myself as I enter and take the helm of Thomas Financial. I’m there for a few hours checking out every nook of the office, including his private bathroom and closet. I log in as he taught me and continue learning the system. Before leaving for the night, I walk around the entire floor, checking out offices of ‘my’ employees.

I’m home before midnight and return everything as it was. First Shaun and now the security people at Thomas Financial have met the new Parker Thomas without knowing. 

CEO AND PRESIDENT

The next morning Parker is up before me. I hear him in the living room watching the news so I jump in the shower, then help myself to a casual Sunday outfit for my office visit. It’s  vintage, preppy Parker—wool dress pants, orange cashmere v-neck sweater, white dress shirt and the black Chelsea boots he had on yesterday. I walk down stairs ready for the day, only to find Parker half asleep on the sofa.

“Bro? Is this appropriate for the office?” I use his typical lingo on him. “You okay?”

He stirs a little, half awake. “Oh sorry, I could use another few hours of sleep today. That Zoloft is wicked shit. You look fine, it’s exactly what I’d wear on a Sunday. I have a gray plaid sport coat that would look great with it.”

“No, it’s the mixing of Zoloft, sleeping pills and scotch that’s wicked Bro.”  I chuckle. “Then go back to bed, I’m the one going into the office today with my president.” 

“Oh shit, yeah have fun with that.” He goes to stand up and wobbles a little.

“You didn’t take anything else did you?” I question him. 

“Just a Xanax to relax me. It helps me sleep.” He answers.

“Bro, I’ll bet you shouldn’t be taking Xanax while still on Zoloft, it’ll kill you.”

“I’m fine, I’ll sleep it off. Wake me up when you get home, we’ll run for lunch.”

“Hey, while I’m thinking of it, give me your class ring and watch, and where’s your wallet?”

“It’s upstairs.” He slips off his ring and watch, and hands them to me.

I follow behind him as he crawls into bed. In his closet I find the sport coat he suggested. I tuck his wallet and iPhone in the breast pockets. His wallet is just where I left it last night when I got home. With my class ring and watch in place, my identity as Parker is perfect. Back downstairs I grab his coffee cup, heat it up, plop myself in front of the TV and continue his morning. I’m the spitting image of Parker.

A few minutes later the door bell rings, it’s got to be Shaun for me. I get up, grab my coffee and greet him at the door. 

“Morning Bro, ready to meet your new CEO?” I greet him using ‘bro’ as Parker had done at breakfast yesterday and take a sip of my coffee. “Want a cup?”

“Ah yeah, I could use some caffeine this morning.” He says frustrated.

“Bad night?”

“Yeah, monsters under Hanna’s bed just as I was going to get ‘some’ action, first time in a month. She ran into the bedroom without warning and jumped in bed, right on top of us. I was the middle of a sandwich, and not a sexy sandwich.”

I just laugh at him as I pop a k-cup into the machine and find a mug. “So you okay doing this today?”

“Sure, why not? It’ll just be Thomas Financial’s CEO and President working together on some things on a Sunday morning. I should take Paul to Ferry Point for 18 holes, where you do most of your work.” He laughs at his joke thinking he’s talking to Parker. 

“If only you were as good.” I reply back.

“Didn’t I beat your ass just a few weeks ago? Can he play golf? Any good?”

“I’m sure he hasn’t played in 6 years but he was a decent golfer before prison.”

“Great, golf will be a great excuse for keeping him away from the office as much as possible. At least for a few weeks before it gets too cold.” 

“So what all are you going to cover with him?”

“Just the basics, like where things are, who’s who and walk him through our system.”

“I drew him a map, was just going to set him free to explore since there shouldn’t be anyone there today but this is better for him.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see some of Joel’s marketing people in the office.” Shaun looks at his watch. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Right in front of you, Bro.” I smile wickedly.

“Well, Fuck me!” I never would have guessed it. “Fuck! Where’s Parker?”

“The dumb shit was drinking Scotch last night before popping his Zoloft and some type of sleeping pills. He got up this morning, took a Xanax which knocked him out again. He just went to bed about 30 minutes ago. His doctor is giving him all those drugs?”

“No, his doctor only prescribed the Zoloft, that rest are from his buddy Greg, who’s a pharmacist. He was just going to let Greg ‘treat him’ after the car jacking, but I realized something else was off and forced him to see Dr. Pomme.”

I shake my head in fake concern. “Well, let’s get to the office. He wants me back by noon to do lunch.”

“How about you follow me, so you learn your way there.  Take his X5, it’s his new toy, and he’s not bored with it yet.”

“Sure, I haven’t driven in years but I’m a decent driver, at least I was, and my license is expired.” Shaun shakes his head in disbelief.

We get to the office and I act as though this is all new to me. He explains the RFID card security and that Parker has one in his wallet. I don’t tell him I have Parker’s wallet and watch him handle everything. We walk in and he walks me around the floor, showing where everything is—conference rooms, break room, accounting, marketing, IT, sales and the executive offices. 

He quickly shows me his office, which is right next to mine that I didn’t notice last night. In my office he has me sign in as Parker and walks me through the system. He shows me a few new tricks then starts reviewing their current business and projects. Between Shaun and Parker, I’m learning quite a lot. When he anxiously checks his watch after a few hours, I suggest we leave, that I have a few weeks to learn everything and he agrees.

We walk out together, get in the cars and pull out of the parking lot. When I lose him in New York traffic, I turn around and head back to the office. I’m really curious about Parker’s life and want to spend as much time as possible learning about it. I noticed Parker’s briefcase behind the driver’s seat and take it in with me. Back in ‘my’ office I study the content of it. There’s more prescription drugs, including more Zoloft and Xanax. There’s an iPad, files and portfolio. I’m there a few more hours, about to leave when Colin calls me.

When he finds out I’m in Manhattan, I’m invited to Darcy’s, a restaurant in SoHo, for lunch with him and Jeff. I accept, jump back in the X5 and head there. I keep it short, claiming a work emergency. I ease into Parker’s personal life effortlessly, playing Parker flawlessly. It’s easy as Jeff talks and talks about opening night, that there’s a cast party after with a ton of celebrities. I really didn’t have to do anything but look the part and laugh at how clueless they both are. I excuse myself, pick up the tab and head home. 

I walk into a quiet house and head upstairs to check on Parker. The shower in running so I return his jewelry and wallet to his dresser.

“Hey Parker, I’m home.” I yell into his bathroom. 

He shuts off the water and steps out. “Great, I’m starving. How was work Parker?”

“Great, Shaun knows his shit, just like you. He skipped out to get home, not worried as we have a few weeks before you leave.”

“Well your timing is perfect, I just got up, feeling great and starving.”

“I’m not hungry, just had lunch with Colin and Jeff at Darcy’s. He called and I couldn’t say no.”

“You had lunch with my best friend?” He’s shocked.

“Well, Parker had lunch with him.”

“They didn’t question anything?”

“Look at me. I was wearing your clothes, had your class ring and watch on and knew about Oklahoma. Jeff sure loves to talk. I didn’t have time to even get one word in. They don’t know about me do they?”

“No, you’ve never come up. I don’t talk about my system hacking, Ponzi scheming, embezzling, convict of a brother.”

“Do they even know you have a brother?” I’m getting a little upset but hide it. 

“No, so I’m not hassled about it.”

“That’s why they didn’t suspect a thing.” This is perfect. Shaun is the only person who knows I exist. No one else will be suspicious of any changes with Parker.

PARKER 101

We do lunch and I barely eat. I observe all his mannerisms—how he eats, what he eats and how he treats the staff. He does most of the talking, mostly about himself. I probe about his relationship with Shaun. He fills in more details of their college days—details like hang outs, parties, coming out to him, living together challenges, Shaun’s endless girlfriends and being his best man. I then change the topic to their work relationship and he really unloads. He had to beg Shaun to take the job, early struggles with cash flow and retaining customers. We’re there for hours with him drinking much more than I ever remember. I drive him home, he pops a hand full of pills and I tuck him in bed. 

From my bag, I pull out the list of contacts Tommy provided before leaving Brookhaven. It’s quite a detailed list of names, emails and phone numbers followed by their expertise such as ‘fake docs’, ‘bugs’, ‘laundering’, ‘drugs’, ‘plastic surgeon’ and ‘IT’. When I call them and tell them I’m friends with Tommy, they’re all eager to help. The IT guy emails me a keystroke tracker for unlocking all of Parker’s passwords and websites. The bugs guy recommends bugs and surveillance cameras and where to buy them. I don’t get through to some of them but leave messages.  

On Monday morning I make sure to wake him up for work—not over concern of his drug usage the night before but to observe his morning routine. I help him up, into the shower  and watch everything he does up till walking out the garage door. 

Once he’s gone, I duplicate his routine except for putting on a suit. Instead I try his ‘country club’ look from an Instagram post months ago—jeans, linen sport coat, simple dark blue dress shirt with a heavy on the jewelry. I managed to duplicate the outfit completely, even the Tag watch and bracelets.

While Parker is at work, I start my ‘Parker Plan’.  The keystroke is easy to download and add to his home computer, then it’ll worm its way into his work system. I borrow his BMW to buy the cameras from a guy in the Bronx. He also clones Parker’s iPhone for a few thousand. One night while Parker is passed out, I head into the office and place cameras and bugs in his office, Shaun’s and the conference rooms.

I pay for everything with a cash advance from my future payment. I told Parker I needed money for starting a new life. He was foolish enough to give me $10,000 out of his home safe while I watched him open it, using his social security number typed in backwards. 

Over the next couple days, I follow him with all my new toys, learning from him and Shaun. The work cameras help a great deal, showing how he works and interacts with everyone. The iPhone clone records all his conversations and texts. It’s an overwhelming amount of information but Parker passes out at 9pm most nights, giving me time to catch up.

He sees his therapist at least twice a week, leaving work using a variety of lame excuses and seeing him over lunch. He’s lying to Shaun, telling him it’s only once a week and that the therapist is really helping. Living with him, it’s obvious it’s not working at all. It’s like he turns on as soon as someone walks in his door or calls. When he’s alone, he zones out or has his head buried in his hands. He’s barely functioning during the day and afraid to go out at night. 

BREAKDOWN

On Friday I watch Parker leave the office for lunch with his friend Colin. On his private calendar, it’s a meeting with his therapist. He warns Jenny that he might be late but he’ll be back in time for Duncan at 3pm. An hour later he shocks me when he comes bursting into the house. He’s pale white, panting and out of breath.

I jump up from the TV. “What happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”

He collapses onto the sofa, barely able to speak. “I unblocked some things I blocked out of my mind. I think they were things I have nightmares about.”

“What?”

“The clicking of the gun as he almost pulled the trigger. I keep hearing the click—click, click, click. He’s going to shoot me. My last thing I’ll do before he shoots me, is piss my pants.” He grabs my Coke, pulls some pills from his pocket and chugs them down. “I was at my Therapist, everyone at work thinks I’m at lunch with Colin.”

“What are you doing? You took some this morning right? They’re not M&Ms.”

“No, they’re better than M&Ms.” He’s shaking like a leaf.

“You’re going to be a mess in the office.”

“Hope you’re up to speed with Duncan. It’s show time bro. Time for you to earn your keep.”

He looks and sounds pathetic. “Yes, I’ve been following your emails and Shaun will be there to help.”

“No! Shaun can’t know about this.” He rejects strongly.

“Why not? He’s going to know I’m not you.” I warn him.

“Because, he could use my weakness to convince the board to oust me and put him in charge.”

“But Shaun is your friend, I thought?”

“Please, how naive can you be? What brought you down? Who ratted on you? Your partner” He holds his head and shudders. 

“But Todd and I never got along. I should have known better.”

He slowly lifts himself off the sofa and heads up the stairs. “Come on, I’m going to bed, my head is killing me. You’re going back to the office Parker. Taylor is outside waiting.”

“How am I going to fool Shaun?  He knows you better than anyone?” I fake concern but watched their morning unfold. All the personal information is at my fingertips thanks to the cameras. Shaun’s wife is planning a vacation to Hawaii for the summer, Hanna has a new imaginary friend and he wants to golf this weekend. 

“He’s got his own fires to put out with the Prime Medusa account. Just don’t go to happy hour with him, he may discover you’re not me.”

I follow him up the stairs and notice how unsteady he is. He starts stripping out of his outfit, kicking off his shoes, taking off his coat and playing with his pants. I haven’t tied a tie in years, so I walk over to him, lift up his collar and pull his tie over his head so I don’t have to retie it. He’s really doped up as his sits on the edge of the bed. I help him with his pants, socks, and  dress shirt. When I pull off his jewelry, the Rolex on his wrist, catches my eye. I’ve never worn one before but always wanted one. Parker crawls into bed, mumbles something and passes out.

TRANSFORMATION

Parker and I haven’t swapped places since college. I went to work for him so he could go to South Beach with some friends. When I saw him at Brookhaven, I thought we still looked alike. When we got the haircuts, it hit me how identical we still are. The fact that Shaun fell for my charade before my transformation reinforced my observation. The only difference I’ve noticed but no one else mentioned are our smiles. His teeth are whiter and I’ll need to fix that at some point. 

In his bathroom I take a fast shower, swipe on his deodorant and spritz on some of his Polo Cologne to take his scent. His pomade gives me his perfectly coiffed hair. I’m not sure all what he took but he’s passed out and snoring when I enter his bedroom. 

Parker’s identity slowly becomes mine as I slip on his damp socks and warm pants. As I pull on his French cuff dress shirt, I’m reminded of Parker’s better fashion sense. I was always more casual while he was ‘Mr. GQ’—into designer custom suits and the latest fashion. The shirt has contrasting white collar/cuffs, splashy cufflinks and the sleeve is monogrammed. When I have it buttoned up, I pop the collar and add ‘my’ tie exactly as he wore it. I go to the mirror, fix my collar and adjust my tie, making sure the dimple is perfect.  

I step into his warm shoes then walk over to the chair and grab his suit coat. Inside is a ‘Executive Garrison’ label with Parker’s name engraved in gold under it. Like everything else I’ve put on, the fit is perfect, as a custom suit should fit. I confidently pull it on and feel some items in the pockets. In my left pocket is his wallet, and in the right is his iPhone. Without thinking, I pull out the iPhone to make sure I didn’t miss any messages. From the dresser I grab his Rolex and ring, adding the final pieces of his identity.

In the bathroom, I make a final check of my appearance. I’m the spitting image of Parker except for a nick he has from shaving this morning. I take his razor and carefully press it against my neck, giving me a similar cut. A wad of toilet paper stops it in a few minutes. Now I’m perfect. 

I check on Parker one last time then head back to the office to finish his day. I’m more nervous about my overall impersonation of Parker than dealing with Shaun. I’ve been watching Shaun and Parker interact all week, so it’ll be easy to pick up where they left off this morning. The bigger challenge will be adopting Parker’s dopey persona. The only solution I can come up is taking a Zoloft myself. There’s even a few in my pant pockets. 

Taylor drops me off in front of building and I head up to the 40th floor. In the elevator, I stiffen my posture, pull my shoulders back and adopt the Parker Thomas persona. The receptionist greets “Mr. Thomas” as I walk by on the way to my office. As soon as I’m in my office, Jenny comes running in to update me on things I missed. I take off my coat and suit coat as Jenny reminds me of Duncan in an hour. Since I’m Parker Thomas, I adopt his mental illness. I head to my private bathroom and take a Zoloft.

Shaun’s office is empty, not sure where he ran off to, but that’s okay. I’ve heard Shaun and Parker discuss their strategy with Duncan, so I know exactly how to handle the meeting. It’s a simple ‘they accept, we celebrate’ or ‘they counter and we think about it’. Either way is fine by me because this won’t be one of ‘our’ most profitable accounts for a few years. The meeting is an hour away so I review the contract and proposal, then get caught up with my email. The Zoloft hits me in about 30 minutes, giving me a very mellow feeling, like I just smoked a few joints. I check my appearance in the bathroom and I think I even have Parker’s usual glassy eyes. 

With Shaun not back, I greet the Duncan people and escort them to the executive conference room. My sales team joins and takes it from there, making my job easy. I sit there quietly taking notes and agreeing. Lucky for me, I checked out the LinkedIN profiles to put faces to the names. Shaun joins us 15 minutes late, just as they announce their intentions to proceed with Thomas Financial’s proposal. We sign the contract and I easily forge ‘P. Thomas’ with his typical big loop ‘P’. 

Shaun and I walk them out, then he follows me back into my office and shuts the door behind him. He heads over to my hidden bar and helps himself to the Scotch. 

“You want one or are you on the ‘Z’? Your eyes look glassy.”

“Sure, why not. I haven’t taken a pill since this morning.”

He pours me a glass, hands it to me and we clink glasses. I’m so mellow that someone could sneak up behind me, yell in my ear and I wouldn’t jump. The glassy eyes just add to my Parker disguise. I take a seat at my desk and he jumps in a chair.

“So check Sutter later tonight. We should have it deposited after 8pm according to Mike.”

I have no clue what he’s talking about. I heard Parker ask him about the Sutter status this morning, so I play along. “Great, I’ll be sure to check it later.”

“So did Greg fix you up with more shit today.”

“No, I had lunch with Colin.” 

“Really?” He says in a questioning voice. 

“Yes, really. Hopefully the Refuge will help.” I know Shaun doesn’t like Greg, even threatening to report him for providing drugs to Parker.

“The Refuge will work. You still up for golf on Sunday?”

“Sure, I wouldn’t miss it.” I saw it on Parker’s calendar for 8am Sunday.

“How’s your brother coming along? Think he can pull this off? He may have to handle your board meeting depending on when you get back. ”

“With our help, he’ll be fine. He’s been driving me crazy with a million questions.” I take a sip of my drink, lean back in my chair and put my hands behind my head—another Parker mannerism I’ve mastered.

He doesn’t show the slightest concern about who I am. We’re talking shop and personal shit till Gene, our head of sales stops in to invite us to happy hour. Shaun declines due to dinner at his mom’s house. I jump at the chance to hang with my employees. 

I work till 5:30, when Taylor stops by my office. He’s here to take me home but he’s okay with my happy hour plans and agrees to keep an eye on me at the bar. I pull on my suit, check in the image in the mirror, smile and think. ‘I’m Parker Thomas, CEO of Thomas Financial.’ I run my hand through my hair then check my tie. I haven’t been out in public with friends in years. Taylor keeps a low profile but is watching out for me. It’s an amazing feeling being Parker and hanging out with friends. I play ‘Parker’ perfectly with all my employees, learning their names, faces and other personal details. 

I pick up the tab then Taylor takes me home. I check my email and text on the ride. My friend Ken calls to ask how I’m feeling and see if I want to grab dinner with him and John tomorrow. I don’t think twice about making plans with ‘my’ friends. It’s amazing to think I’ve pulled off being Parker three times with Shaun. The guy is clueless I’m not his partner. I get home about 8pm and find Parker on the sofa in front of the TV.

“Hey, how you feeling?”

He turns and looks at me. “Fuck, I bet no one questioned who you are?”

“Nope, I handled the Duncan meeting, they loved the proposal and I signed the contract.  I had drinks with Shaun in my office after then did happy hour with my employees.  It was great experiencing freedom for the first time in 6 years. Oh, Ken and John invited you over for dinner tomorrow night and Shaun reminded me of golf on Sunday.”

“Good job, I knew they’d love it. Sounds like you did great.” He rubs his head as though he has a major headache. “Oh yeah, I did forget about Sunday. It’s with his father and father-in-law at Ferry Point.”

“Bro, if you’re not up for it, let me. I haven’t golfed in years but I bet I’m still just as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m probably as good as you were.  I just picked up the latest Calloway clubs, they’re at Ferry Point along with my clothes and other gear.  You’ll have fun, Shaun Sr and Ted are good golfer and ever better drinkers. Ferry Point is an incredible course.”

“What about Ken and John?”

“I’ll handle them. It’ll be good to see them before heading to California. No problems being me?”

“None, people seem to walk on egg shells when you’re around. Jenny is great keeping you on your toes. Shaun is clueless. I didn’t tell you, but Sunday morning when Shaun stopped to pick me up, he thought I was you greeting him at the door. I rolled with it, till he asked where Paul was and I came clean. I thought about running upstairs, changing clothes and seeing if I could get away with it but decided against it.”

“Ha! You should have.”

“How are you feeling?” I probe.

“I slept but didn’t really sleep, tossing and turning. If the Refuge doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m constantly on edge and when I think of the gun cocking, I go into shock. The Zoloft is barely working now.” 

“Oh, Shaun doesn’t like Greg does he?  He made some snide comment about you getting more drugs from him at lunch. I told him no, that I had lunch with Colin.”

“Greg is harmless. He gives me sample packets of drugs, nothing illegal. When he needed muscle relaxer for a bad back, he loved Greg.”

“And what is with Shaun's ‘Stefan’ when I stuck up for Greg?” I need to know the significance of Shaun using his middle name. 

He laughs. “At Penn, he had people thinking it was my name, had everyone calling me it. Now and then he uses my middle name if he’s questioning something, like my judgement or truthfulness.” 

This clears up ‘Stefan’ and gives me some additional personal information. He’s fucked up—his speech is slow and hands are trembling. He orders a pizza from his favorite place, downs a few beers and slices then pops something in his mouth that he took from his pocket. Whatever it was, it calms him down and makes him disoriented. I use it to pump him for more personal information about him and his friends. He’s so fucked up, he talks for hours before passing out and needing my help to get to bed. 

NIGHT OUT

I give him 30 minutes before slipping back into his bedroom and digging through his pants pockets.  There’s a combination of Xanax, Zoloft and other pills I’ve never seen before. I shake him to see if I can wake him but he’s out cold. I’ve always known my brother was pathetic and this past week just reinforces it.  PTSD?  Really? Who the fuck gets PTSD from being carjacked? He got a bruise on his ass from hitting the ground and brand new X5 out of it.

I stay in his suit and identity, knowing I’m a better version of him. The power I have as Parker is intoxicating. I go to his home office and enjoy thinking of myself as him. I’m restless though, it’s only 10pm and I want, no, need to be acknowledged as Parker. I want to soak up his identity for a few more hours.

I’ve learned that Parker doesn’t have much of a gay life. He has a few stuffy pretentious gay friends that take in the culture of New York like operas, galleria openings and plays. He’s never been one to go out dancing all night in a thumping gay club. He’d rather put on a tuxedo and spend the evening drinking wine and commenting on art. I’ve seen many of his Instagram posts at the Kennedy Center or Broadway ‘being seen’. 

After a few minutes of debate, I realize as CEO of Thomas Financial, I can walk into my office anytime I like. Tonight would be the perfect time to check out all of Thomas Financial with no one around to question why I’m so curious. I pull on my suit coat, feeling my iPhone and wallet still in place. I run upstairs and grab my burner phone to reach out to a contact in the privacy of my office. I pull on my top coat, head to the X5 for my briefcase. Instead of driving the X5, I’m taking ‘my’ 911 since I haven’t driven it yet.

I find my way to work without the GPS, pull into my spot and stroll in carrying my briefcase—in full Parker mode. I’m greeted knowingly by security and acknowledge them as though I have a lot on my mind. Every door opens up for Parker Thomas as I approach them. After I hang up my topcoat, I head to my bathroom to inspect myself.

“Parker Thomas, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  I extend my hand and introduce myself to the mirror.

“Shaun, of course I’m Stefan you idiot.” I run my hand through my hair per our secret identity agreement.

“Jenny, make sure to get Robert Duncan on the Christmas list, and did we file with FFIEC?”

“Ken, I can’t wait to see you and John tomorrow night for dinner. It’s been too long, I may not recognize you guys.” I speak into my sleeping iPhone and grin at my reflection. 

I tuck the iPhone back in my coat and run both hands through my hair. I head back to my office, pour myself a Scotch and take my rightful spot as CEO. From just four days of camera feeds, I pretty much know ‘my’ routine when starting work—log in, check email and respond as needed—return phone calls—review business bookmarks. I do it without having to think about it. 

After I’m caught up, I start my inspection of Thomas Finance. First stop is Shaun’s office where I pick up his personal photographs. His wife Susan is stunning. “You’re more stunning than the day you married Shaun. He certainly married up.” I laugh using Parker’s typical flattery. There’s a pic of me and Shaun golfing with two elderly gents. The one has to be his father because they look like twins, 30 years apart. The other has to be Susan’s dad. Good to know I’ve golfed with them before. I’ll have to study Shaun’s Facebook and Instagram before Sunday. There’s a wall with various business awards and golf trophies, just like mine. He has his own bar, bathroom and closet that are smaller than mine. 

I make my rounds checking out anyone with an actual office. That takes over an hour then I make a cursory round of cubicles. A few hours later and I know instinctively where my key people are located and some personal items about them. Back at my office I check out Jenny’s desk for personal information. My last act of the day is to call a ‘doctor’ highly recommended by Tommy’s list

“Dr. Harris, my name is Paul Thomas, I’m a friend of Tommy Long, I was his cell mate in Brookhaven. He said you might be able to help me.”

“Mr. Thomas, any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine. How is he doing?” 

“He’s doing the same, missing tennis, complaining about the food and politics. I’m looking for some help with something Tommy told me.”

“I prefer to meet in person, not discuss personal issues over the phone. Are you near New York?”

“Yes, nearby, I believe you’re in Brooklyn. I could stop by your office any time or I’d buy you lunch.”

“I’d love to do lunch, just had a friend cancel on me tomorrow if you’re available.”

“I’m open, pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll text you the details Paul.”

He kept that short and sweet. I lean back in my chair and tuck my burner phone away. Looking around the office, a sense of awe comes over me. I see ‘my’ Penn and Wharton diplomas on the wall and admire my class ring. A quick glance at my Rolex alerts me that it’s almost 2am—time to get home. 

SATURDAY

I wake up late to the smell of bacon waffing up the stairs as I head down the stairs. Parker is cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I’ve never seen him so alert and, dare I say, normal?

“Bro, let me run back upstairs so you can serve me breakfast in bed, and remember, only fresh squeeze OJ.” I order him. 

“Sit your ass down at the counter or you don’t eat.”

He’s running around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off.

“Are you on something?” I cautiously ask.

“Prescribed Uppers to get me going this morning. I’ve been sleeping too much lately, so it balances me out.”

“Greg or a real doctor?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Shaun. Greg is a medical professional.” He plops a plate of pancakes and bacon on the counter. “Sorry, no OJ and you need to make your own coffee.

“And what happens later today? I’ll tell you, you crash and burn.” I get up and start making my own coffee. 

“Then I level off, back to normal.”

I laugh out loud. “Have you taken Uppers before? Apparently not.” 

He gets silent, doesn’t answer me then changes the topic. I drop it but know what I’m talking about. “I’m going to check on things in the office this morning, run some errands and pick up some stuff for California.”

“I’ve got to check on some things I have in a safe deposit box at Chase downtown, do a little shopping, maybe pick up some clothes of my own.” I skip the part about seeing Dr. Harris whose specialty is changing a person’s identity. According to Tommy, he has the ability to change someone’s fingerprint. I want to know if I can have Parker’s. 

“Your key is in the top drawer of my office desk. I’ll be gone before Annie get here, she’ll be tied up all afternoon cleaning up and restocking.”

“She’s funny, I like her. She’s concerned because every day this week, you were home sick from work. That’s what I told her.”

“Ha, that’s Annie.  She’s priceless. Shaun’s wife recommended her years ago. She’s worth every penny and does work for them occasionally. I better get out of here before she catches us.”

Parker grabs a plaid sport coat and heads out to the garage.  I follow after him and watch as he takes the Corvette for a change. I can’t in good conscious, leave this mess for Annie. I’m loading the dishwasher as she walks in.

“You cooked?” She laughs.

“Attempted. My cousin, who just left, is probably on his way to McDonald’s for a McMuffin, or the hospital to get his stomach pumped.” 

She shoves me out of the way and takes over. “I’m sure you have more important things to  do.” 

I head up to Parker’s bedroom, jump in the shower, use all his products and reuse his towels. I decide on a dressier outfit for emptying my safe deposit box. I finger through his sport coats and find a gray coat that’ll go great with black dress pants and casual knit sport shirt. There’s already a pocket square in it from the last time he wore it. I tuck my own ID and burner phone into my coat and head down to my office for a backpack to hold my stash. The safe deposit box key is still in the same envelope, tucked in his desk drawer. 

There’s no problem emptying my box—there’s only a thumb drive and $200,000 in cash. The thumb drive is the key. With its files and links, I now have access to another million in an offshore bank. With that task finished, it’s time to meet Dr. Harris.

He picked a sports bar near his office. I get there early and text him my description. A salt and pepper elderly man arrives minutes later.

“Dr. Harris, it’s a pleasure.”

“Same Paul. How’s my friend Tommy?”

“He’s fine, looking to getting out in a year.”

“He’s one hell of a friend so whatever you need, I’ll help with if I can.”

We order appetizers and beer, then get right to the issue.

“Doc, I want to start my life all over, as someone else.”

“Change of appearance? Plastic surgery, I’m assuming?” Dr. Harris questions.

“Hmm… the appearance I have nailed. It’s the details I need help with. Tommy mentioned some new technology for changing finger prints. That’s what I need.”

“Yeah, I’ve done about a dozen so far. It’s a new 3D printing process. The results are amazing.  We simply remove the epidermis then print on top of is with human skin cells. It’s like skin grafting but much easier.”

“How long does it take?” I’m fascinated by technology.

“The procedure takes about an hour per hand, followed by a week to heal.  The first day or two is painful but once you’re over that, it’s just waiting for the healing cream to work.”

“Healing cream?”

“Another new technology with gene stimulants that heal at the molecular level. Once the fingers are healed, there’s no way to detect they’re printed.”

“Great, can you give me someone else’s fingerprints?”

“I can give you an original design that’s not on any records in the world. Using someone’s else’s could cause problems, plus they’re tricky to obtain.”

“I want my twin’s fingerprints.” I cut to the chase.

“Now that’s a first for me.”

“Can you do it? I plan on taking his—”

He cuts me off. “I don’t need details, all I need is a scan of his hands. That would be the tricky part.”

“That’s the easy part.”

“You’ll have to have him knocked out, and scan them multiple times. I have the equipment at my office. It’s really easy to operate. Let’s go there.”

I follow Dr. Harris back to his unmarked office where he scans my fingers, teaching me how to use it on Parker. The procedure is $100,000  in untraceable crypto. He also will add a pimple  on my cheek to match Parker’s. I get home to an empty house and no Corvette in the garage. I take the scanner and hide it in the garage for use later. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

I’m in my bedroom watching video of Parker in his office earlier today. I study his responses to a few emails, hear him talking to Shaun, and logging into his dashboard, checking stats. He’s there all morning, then stops at Mac’s Hoagies for lunch according to his email receipts. I then track his iPhone and he appears to be heading home. I put my tech away, head downstairs and turn on the TV. Parker arrives 30 minutes later carrying a number of bags.

“Wow, did you buy out the store?”

“Yeah, I was slumming it. Refuge says simple wardrobe, nothing fancy—hoodies, sweats, short, t-shirts and sneakers. I blew about $700 at the Under Armour and Nike stores. God forbid, I almost walked into the GAP!” He laughs.

“You seem good today.  Zoloft?”

“Yeah, got me, but I didn’t take anything else. I’m not going to take a Xanax until I get home from dinner. What are you going to do?”

“Don’t laugh but no plans. I’m going to finish watching Yellowstone that I started at Brookhaven. I found it on your streaming service. Hey what about golf tomorrow? You feel like handling it?”

“Nah, but I called Shaun, asked him to pick ‘me’ up and drive tomorrow. It’ll be good practice being me.”

“Does Shaun know we’re doing this?”

“Fuck no, you’re going to be me, own it.”

“Great, 7am?” I whine.

“That’s why you’re getting your ass up at 6am to play and I’ll be in bed.”

“I’m going to need pointers for tomorrow i.e… who I’m playing with, what to wear, history of previous games.”

“It’s easy. Shaun’s dad is Shaun also, looks like him, avid golfer and lives on Long Island. His father-in-law is Ted, widower a few years ago, had a girlfriend last time we played. Shaun Sr usually wins then we get hammered at the 19th hole. Wear anything in my locker, it’s next door to Shaun’s. Oh, Shaun is about even with me, skill wise. Relax, it’ll be fun.”

He runs upstairs with all his bags while I continue watching TV. I was hoping he’d come back all messed up and allow me to go out with his friends. I’ll just use this time to catch up on my surveillance videos and check out the safe. 

30 minutes later, Parker comes downstairs all dressed up in a sport coat and silk dress shirt. He looks normal, the opposite of yesterday when he had his breakdown. 

“What do you think?” He asks.

“Great outfit. I’ll have to keep that in mind while you’re in California, wearing a hoodie.” I snicker at him. 

“It’s Prada—suit, shirt and shoe. Hmm, socks too.” He checks his Omega watch. “Okay, don’t wait up. You have to be up at 6am.”

“I’m looking forward to playing Ferry Point and being an actual member will be great too. While you’re at Big Sur, you should stop at Pebble Beach and play a round.”

“Been there, done that……a few years ago with Shaun. I nailed it like a pro, Shaun sucked, hitting balls into the Pacific.  We had a blast. Shaun cheated on Susan with another guest a redheaded bimbo.”

“Wow, his wife is stunning.”

“She was pregnant at the time, he was horny, she wasn’t into having sex, so that was his excuse. I was stuck alone most of the weekend, pissed me off.” 

“I get really horny, really easy. I need some so ‘you’ might be on the prowl soon.”

“Oh god, now I’m worried handing my life over to you. Behave, I’m well known in New York, have an image to uphold. Check my Instagram for the bars I like to go to, pick up someone from there. No trips to the Eagle or Manhole. Got it?” Thanks bro for more personal information.  

I am horny. It’s been months for any relief. I open up my clone phone and go through my Instagram. He was at Pronto Video Bar a month ago with Colin. It’s just a few miles away and it seems to be filled with hot guys. I’ll just stop by for dinner and see what happens from  there. 

What Parker wore earlier today really looked good on him, so it’ll look great on me. I run up to his bedroom and find the outfit on the chair. I strip out of my clothes and pull his underwear out of the hamper and step into them. I do the same for his socks. The pants are tan chinos, his belt is still in place. The shirt is a blue linen Polo brand. I’m learning that Parker’s ‘style’ is sticking with one designer for the entire outfit. I slip one of his Tag watches, add some rings, bracelet then check myself in the mirror. I look just like he did in his office all morning but minus his class ring and favorite Omega watch. 

I grab the same plaid sport coat he wore earlier and head out to the garage. Nice, the Corvette is sitting there for my pleasure. Pronto is a ‘hip’ place based on the cars in the parking lot and how people are dressed. There’s a bar section and restaurant, divided by a bakery in the middle. I head to the bar and grab a seat next to a group of guys. The bartender greets Parker and lays a chocolate martini down for me. While checking out the crowd, a guy catches my attention. He smiles and I hold my drink up to him and he comes over.

“Hi, I’m Chris.” He shakes my hand and gives me a sexy smile. 

“I’m Pau…Parker.” Almost using my real name on him.

“I’ve seen you here before, never had the nerve to say hi.”

“Same, you’ve got a killer smile Chris.” I give him a big smile and place my hand on his thigh. 

He leans in and kisses me deeply. It’s an incredible kiss. “I’m meeting friends here for a drink, then we’re heading to Dueling Pianos. You want to join us?”

“I’d love to but I have other plans I can’t get out of, just stopped for a quick drink.”

“Damn, you’re so sexy Parker.” He grabs the back of my head and pulls me in for another kiss. We start making out right at the bar, losing track of time. All at once there was a ‘Ahem’ to interrupt us. There’s a few guys smiling at us. 

“Chris, sorry to interrupt you. Who’s your friend?” A sexy red head quips.

“Oh guys, hey, this is Parker. He’s an old friend.” He laughs.

“Hey guys.” I give them a small wave.

“We’re late, you coming?” A blonde guy asks.

“Yeah guys, give me one second.” He pulls out his phone and has me enter my phone number. I give him Parker’s number since it’ll be mine starting in a week. 

“Hey, Thanks Chris, you’re an awesome kisser. I’m going to be away on business this week, back Saturday. Call me then.”

“Sure thing.” He takes charge again, grabs my cock and kisses me one last time. 

Chris and his friends take off, leaving me with a memory of a great kiss and throbbing hard on in my pants. I can’t wait to hear from him, impress him with a great dinner then take him home to ‘my’ place to fuck him. This new Parker will enjoy his life more. 

I grab a quick bite then head home. In his office I review my social media, then log into his bank account and stock portfolio. The $5 million he offered to pay me is a drop in the bucket of his net worth. I jump in bed early to be rested for my golf outing tomorrow.

FERRY POINT

I’m up before 6am and jump in my shower. Since I’ll be changing at Ferry Point, I just put on what I wore last night. In Parker’s bedroom, he’s snoring away as I go over to him and quietly slip his class ring and watch off him. In his sport coat, I find my wallet and iPhone. In his bathroom, I borrow a spritz of his Polo cologne, and add some Pomade to complete the takeover of Parker’s identity for the day. Once again, I’m Parker Thomas for most of the day. 

I ease into my day just like Parker does—a K-cup of Starbucks, a power bar and catching up on my iPhone. Shaun shows up at 7am and rings the door bell. I grab my sport coat and greet him at door.

“Let’s go man.” Shaun greets me. 

Shaun’s best friend jumps into the Escalade and they take off. Like Parker, I make sure to bury my face in my iPhone and act chilled as if I’m on my Zoloft. 

“Another sandwich in bed last night.” Shaun complains, referring to Hanna jumping in bed with them.

I just laugh. “Ha, You’ve got to be horny as hell.”

“I am, I may make Mel the 19th hole if I can ditch my ‘dads’ today.”

“Ha, you are horny.” I don’t know who Mel is but can play along while studying my phone. 

“Looks like Tektonics is a hit, per Joel.” I change the topic to business mentioning an email from my VP of marketing on demographics.

“That’s great, now put the fucking phone down.”  He reaches over to me, plucks the phone from my hand and places it on the center console. “So how’s the jailbird coming along?”

I start off the conversation about myself exactly as Parker would—exasperated. “Paul is Paul. He’s smart, picking up our systems easily. I’ve been testing him about issues and he’s up to speed. When I try to teach him how to act like me, he ignores me, says it’s not important, that he’ll just sit in my office, do fancy lunches or be on the golf course.”

“Sounds like he’s not taking this seriously. Is he behaving himself? He seems like he could be wild to control?” 

“Last night he took off in the Vette without telling me where he was going. His license is expired and he’s driving my baby. He says ‘I’ll just tell them I’m you and forgot my wallet’ Says he doesn’t have time to get to the DMV to get a license.”  Knowing how much Parker loves his automobiles, I use his baby slang exactly as he would. “He’s more horny than you.”

“I doubt it, sounds like he was getting some in prison. I’m not getting any.” Shaun whines.

“I’m afraid this could backfire on me, destroy my reputation. I warned him last night before he took off to behave like me, keep away from the Eagle and Manhole. I got home about midnight, don’t know when he got in.”

“What did you do? And don’t tell me you stayed in and took a Xanax.”

“No, I did dinner with Ken and John at Darcy’s, they played match maker with me and their friend Jason.  I wanted to fuck him but don’t want Paul messing it up while I’m away.”

All the way to Ferry Point, I easily play Parker Thomas discussing work and personal issues with Shaun. As we’re getting close, I pull one of Parker’s headaches, putting my head between my hands. Shaun gets a little concerned but I assure him I’ll be fine. Its little details I want him to pick up on, to confirm my identity. 

Ferry Point impresses me as we pull in to the clubhouse and valet park. There’s an incredible view of New York but Shaun’s Cadillac is barely classy enough to be in the parking lot. The valet and host greet us by name.  I follow Shaun to our lockers and as Parker mentioned, mine is right next to his’. A swipe of my membership card opens it to reveal  everything I need for today. I follow his lead changing into my gear. 

Thanks to instagram and what’s in his locker, I nail his golf image—Nike golf shirt and long skinny pants, Nike golf shoes, matching Nike sweater and cap to keep me warm. I’m not shocked to find an Omega PGA watch in the locker to replace my usual Omega.  As I slip it on, Shaun notices.

“You know, Ted is going to steal that if he sees it. He told his wife he needs one and she told him no.”

“Ha! I’ll keep my sweater shortened so he can admire it more.” 

Shaun’s phone dings with a text message. “Damn, they’re waiting for us. I didn’t think they were here yet.”

I put on my cap, grab my gloves and follow Shaun out to the carts. Ted and Shaun greet us at our golf carts and starting giving us grief for being late. I look around and see my monogrammed golf bag in the back of one of the carts. I walk over and start inspecting my gear, appreciating my brother’s equipment. I start off rusty but quickly regain my skills. They start drinking early but I use ‘medication’ to avoid drinking. Shaun takes notice and slaps me on the shoulder as we’re walking together.  I have the best time playing with Parker’s accepting friends. 

Shaun’s dad finishes with the best score while I come in second after a rough start. Shaun accepts my story that the Zoloft mellows me out, improving my skills. At the 19th hole, I get to meet Melissa, ‘Mel’ who flirts with everyone but especially Shaun. At lunch, Shaun mentions wanting to meet my ‘cousin’ to see how he’s adapting to New York. When I get a minute alone, I call Parker to warn him of Shaun expecting to meet me at home. He sounds coherent when he assures me not to worry. 

Between playing 18 holes and the 19th hole, we get back to my house after 3pm. I’m whipped as we walk in the front door. Parker comes running out of the kitchen where he’s cooking something that smells like chicken. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair has no product in it and he’s barefoot.

“Hey, hope you’re hungry, I’m making chicken for dinner.” He sees Shaun and acts surprised. “Oh hey Shaun, there’s enough for you too.”

“You didn’t tell me you hired a private chef Parker.” Shaun says to me.

“Reserve your judgement for after you try eating it.” I respond.

“So are you ready for your close up Paul?” Shaun asks referencing Sunset Boulevard. 

“Test me!” He challenges Shaun.

“How many employees do we have?”

“75.” He answers instantly. “Up from 50 just two years ago. Thanks to accounts like Circuit Tech and Prime Medusa, we’ll probably hire 25 more this year. Our marketing department is weak.”

Shaun’s mouth drops open. “Wow, he sounds just like you Parker.”

“I told you there’s nothing to worry about. No one will doubt who he is.”

“I just need to get use to Parker’s stuffy image and that goo he puts in his hair.”

“Hey bro, it’s pomade and if you could look only half this good, you’d be lucky.” I snip back at him. 

“Okay you two, be nice. Paul, all you have to do is look the part, put some ‘goo’ in your hair and I’ll block and tackle.” Shaun checks his watch. “Hey, Susan is expecting me home and I’m late.”

FLIPOUT

Shaun lets himself out, I just look at Parker and let out a sigh of relief. “Wow bro, you were fantastic. I think you’ve nailed me completely with your answers.” I laugh at the twist.

“Bro, If Shaun doesn’t doubt you’re me, no one else will. I think you’re set. Hell, maybe I could get there early. The Refuge told me I could arrive anytime, so the sooner in, the sooner out.”

“You seem really good today, did you take your meds?” I ask cautiously.

“Hmmm I took something Greg gave me to try. Buspirone for anxiety and Aripiprazole for bipolar disorder, both are very safe.”

“Oh god, I hope I don’t have to deal with Greg, I might hit him. Toss them away and get to California for professional help.”

“Look at me, I haven’t felt this great in months. Greg will probably check in on you. He stopped by for lunch.”

“So you didn’t tell him about the Refuge?” I ask, worried there’ll be another person that knows about me.

“No, he’s a gossip and all of New York already knows about my PTSD or as he believes to be MDD, Major Depressive Disorder. I don’t want anyone but you and Shaun knowing I’m checking myself into mental illness facility.” He starts to get upset.

“Okay, I’ll be nice to him if he calls or stops by.”

Parker didn’t actually make a chicken, he bought a rotisserie chicken and some sides at Whole Foods. We eat dinner and talk a few more hours about work issues and his personal life. He tells me the Refuge doesn’t allow any distractions—no visitors, cell phones or computers. Parker Thomas is listed as his outside point of contact. So as him, I’ll be the only one allowed to call and check in with his doctors. Parker also hired a different, questionable therapist to diagnose ‘Paul’s’ PTSD and to get him admitted.

Before bed, he pops a Xanax to help him sleep. Thirty minutes later and I’m helping him up the stairs and tucking him into bed. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out but to keep him out, I slip a few Ambiens into his mouth. When I’m convinced he’s out cold, I grab Dr. Harris’ scanners from the garage to upload his fingerprints and mouth scans to his account. It only takes 30 minutes to scan both hands and his mouth.

I jump in bed and slowly fall to sleep while reliving my day as Parker. I’m dreaming of being in Thomas Financial’s executive conference room, in a board meeting discussing business condition. At the end, everyone is congratulating me about something. I’m giving my team, also in the room, credit for my success. As I’m leaving the conference room, someone is screaming in my ear calling me Paul. It gets louder and louder until I’m awaken by a hysterical Parker shaking me. 

I jump up in bed, my heart is racing like I’m having a heart attack. “Parker, what the fuck is wrong.”

“I’m having a heart attack.” He’s pale and sweating.

“It’s probably all the pills you’re taking. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I kept hearing a gun being cocked, feeling it against my head and begging him not to shoot.”

“You’re not having a heart attack, does your left arm feel funny?”

“Yeah, it’s numb.”

“No, do you feel a shooting pain up and down it? Numbness is not a heart attack, it’s from sleeping on it and cutting off circulation. Did you take any other drugs?”

He’s trembling, rocking back and forth on the bed. “No just sleeping pills, nothing else.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” He yells at me. “It was like a flashback. It felt so real.”

“You were so good before bed.” He is definitely displaying bipolar symptoms. “Let’s get you back to bed, it was just a bad dream. You’ll be fine.”

I help him back to bed and notice 5:12am on the alarm clock. I wonder if the sleeping pills he took and the Ambien I slipped him, caused this episode. Hours later I get up and check in on him. The shower is running so that’s a good sign.

JUMPING IN

“Parker, How are you feeling?” He doesn’t respond. “Parker?”

I walk into the bathroom but don’t see him standing behind the frosted glass. “Parker?” I open the shower door to shut off the water and find Parker on the floor, curled up in the corner, not moving.

“Oh my god, Parker” I jump in without turning off the shower and help him up. He’s catatonic, not saying a word. 

“I’mmmm kay.” He finally mumbles.

“No you’re not.” I pull a towel off the rack, wrap it around him and get him to the bed. 

“He came back. He’s pulled the trigger. I can feel it.” He rubs his forehead. 

“It was a dream, that’s all. Let’s get you some coffee, wake you up, you’ll be fine.” He’s rocking and staring out across the bedroom. I try to shake him, snap him out of it. “Come on bro, Taylor will be here to pick you up in an hour.”

“Go in for me. I can’t go in there like this.”

I’m not going to baby him like mom used to. I take the towel away and get him back in bed. In his bathroom I strip out of my wet boxers and jump in the shower. After a week of learning Parker’s identity, working Friday and spending all day yesterday with ‘my’ friends on the golf course, I’m certain I’m ready to takeover his life. 

I towel off and follow his routine using all toothbrush, razor and hygiene products. From his drawers I grab a pair of boxers briefs, put them on and pick out a pair of plain black socks. From his closet, I select a very conservative navy window pane suit by Brioni, a white collar  dress shirt, olive-navy tie and his usual clunky wingtips. I’m still wearing Parker’s class ring and watch from yesterday but will swap out the Omega for a Rolex. I sit on the edge of is bed, glance over my shoulder and see Parker sleeping again. I start the easy transformation into a CEO.

I pull on my socks, pull the pants off the hanger and step into them, then wiggle into the wingtips. I grab the shirt, pull it and select a simple pair of yellow gold cufflinks from ‘my’ jewelry box. In the dresser mirror, I button up the shirt and add cufflinks. I add the tie and use Parker’s typical Italian knot. It takes a few tries but eventually I replicate his typical dimple and the length is perfect. I pull on the jacket and notice there’s a pocket square already in place. I button the upper button, play with the pocket square and check myself out in the mirror. I take off my Omega watch and replace it ‘my’ Rolex. I tuck his wallet and iPhone into my suit pockets. The suit is a perfect fit and shows off my body in all the right places. My hair duplicates Parker’s style with the right amount of his Uppercut pomade. The final step is adding some pills to my pocket and popping a Zoloft to mellow me out. 

I quietly shut the door and head to my bedroom. I grab my cloned phone and snap a few pics of Parker. It’s crazy how much I look like Parker. A check of my new watch shows I have 20 minutes before Taylor arrives to drive me to work. I run downstairs and make a quick k-cup. I’m running around making sure I have everything I need for work. I grab my briefcase from my home office. From my closet, I find a beautiful, super soft navy top coat. As I’m sipping my coffee awake, I post my pic of my outfit on Instagram with “Ready for the corporate jungle”. Within minutes, my friend Ken responds with “looking good buddy” and others ‘like’ it. 

When I see Taylor pulling up, I pull on my coat, grab my briefcase and run out to his car. I start checking my emails and calendar on the way. Taylor drops me off and I confidently stroll in as Parker does every day, smiling and greeting everyone as my outgoing brother. As I’m hanging up my topcoat and suit coat, I scan my office, noting my diplomas and taking in the view of Manhattan. It’s unreal to sit down at my huge desk, and look at what I’m wearing. I’m now Parker Thomas and no one would doubt that. 

Jenny shows up a few minutes later, pops her head in to greet me and promising coffee in a few minutes. I start in with emails and checking my bookmarks. Jenny comes back with my coffee and her iPad. 

“You’re looking rested Parker. Good weekend?” She places my coffee on my leather coaster and takes a seat to review my schedule for the day as she always does.

“Yeah, great weekend. Dinner with Ken and John Saturday and Ferry Point with Shaun on Sunday. How’s the puppy?” Thank god for the video cameras. This ‘chit chat’ solidifies my identity to her, as it will with everyone else.

She giggles. “Lucy is picking up potty training but she’s chewing like crazy. Jonathan has to have her in his bed every night now. You were right, Pitbulls are excellent dogs for children.”

“Yeah, my first dog was a Pitbull and he was never mean or growled at someone, all he did was lick people to death.” 

I reviewed my day on the ride in but Jenny adds more details to it. It’s the usual start to my day. She leaves and I enjoy my coffee even though it black and I always drink it with cream and sugar. I’ll get used to it.   

I watch Shaun come in, grab his coffee and comes into my office. He shuts the door for privacy as he always does. 

“You know, your golf game may actually be improving.” He jokes with Parker.

“I think you’re right, I may have to start taking Zoloft before every outing. I didn’t feel my usual stress trying to win. I want a rematch with Ted, one of these days I’m going to beat him.”

“That maybe it for the year, they’re calling for snow possibly this weekend.”

“Not in California.” I reply back smartly. 

“Are you sure Paul will be ready? He looked goofy yesterday. Maybe we should postpone your trip a few more weeks. Some days you seem better, back to your own focused self.”

I sit up, take a sip of coffee and turn on the ‘Parker’. “He’ll be fine, he did party hard Saturday night. He went out, hooked up with someone and got drunk. I think he needed it and he swears he’ll be the ‘perfect Parker’.” 

“Okay, I’ve always trusted your judgement, you know that.”

“Relax. He’ll be fine.  He’s a fast learner, and has been studying our dashboard every day, reviewing my emails and asking a ton of questions. I’ve also tested him.”

“You’re right, he did impress me yesterday with his response to my question. But he didn’t look the part.”

“Once I put him in one of my suits and add pomade his hair, he’ll be me for everyone to see. Now get out of here, I have Yvonne to deal with and you have TriTech problems.” 

“Better you than me.” He chuckles about my Yvonne comment that I got from Jenny earlier. He heads back to his office while I admire my perfect Parker appearance in the reflection of my office window.

The morning flies by with meetings and phone calls. It’s surprisingly easy being Parker. I just make decisions based on the history I find or common sense. Before lunch, I shut my door and call my burner phone to check on Parker.

“Bro, you up?” 

He answers sounding barely awake. “Yeah, rough night last night. I don’t know what happened.”

“Greg’s fucking drugs. No more till you get to California and see a real doctor.”

“I’m seeing my therapist today, telling him I’m through and feeling much better.”

“You’re going to ‘see’ him to tell him that? I wouldn’t. Just call him.”

“I have an appointment at 1pm.”

“Oh that’s what Jenny asked about, it’s just marked as personal on your calendar. I told her uncle Jim was in town and you were taking a long lunch.”

“I’m not looking forward to it—“

I interrupt him. “Don’t stress yourself out, I’ll handle him. I’ll tell him I’m seeing another therapist that Greg recommended and thinking of a PTSD treatment center. You don’t owe him anything really.”

“That would be great, it’s Doctor Pomme, he’s in my phone.”

“I’ll keep it short and sweet. What are you doing today then?”

“I think I’ll start packing, hit the gym and get a ticket to fly out to California on Thursday. You okay with that?”

“So let’s not tell Shaun you’re leaving early. I just told him Saturday and he wanted me to postpone it a few weeks to make sure I was ready for the role.”

“That’s fine, I won’t mention a word to him tomorrow or Wednesday. No use in worrying him over last night or he’ll wonder why I’m speeding things up instead of taking a few more weeks.”

“Hey, what do you do for lunch?” I hit him up on basic personal information.

“Oh today with the doctor’s appointment, I’d just grab a sandwich from Mac’s Hoagie shop across the street, bring it back to the office to eat. Other days we’ll pile in someone’s car and go to Beef’s a few blocks away. There’s ‘Robey’s Dinner’ on the second floor, or the food court on the first floor. Robey’s has the best Philly cheese steaks on the planet. Shaun and Joel are always up for lunch since you pay.” He chuckles a little. 

“Now I’m hungry, think I’ll try the Hoagie shop.”

“Thanks a lot for doing this for me.” He hangs up.

“Not a problem. It’s like be kids again, kind of fun.” Plus I’m getting a new life out of this. 

As I was talking to him, I had another thought. Maybe I’ll take Shaun’s advice, hold off a few weeks, continue talking to Dr. Pomme and make a huge recovery. Paul Thomas will be the one in California for weeks, maybe months. It’ll give me time to figure out more of a plan for dealing with him.

RECOVERY

Dr. Pomme’s office is just a block away in the Liberty building. I get there a little early and make small talk with Marge, his receptionist.

I’m buzzed into the his office on time and greeted by a tall bearded individual with a bald head. “Parker, how are you today.”

“I’m feeling really good today.”

“Great, you look good, rested. New suit?”

“No, I’ve had this for years, it’s one of my favorites.” I relax into the chair across from him and cross my legs

“I was worried about you this weekend to be honest. I didn’t want you leaving so upset on Friday, not sure if you were having a breakdown or breakthrough.”

“Honestly I didn’t know either. I was scared, I had a flashback and it seemed so real. I was reliving everything.” 

“So what did you do when you left here?”

“I stopped for lunch and even had a beer. In my head I kept telling my ‘you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.’ I went back to the office and finished my day.”

“That’s excellent, you confronted it head on and powered through your day. And the weekend?”

“Doc, Friday night I chilled at home, ordered a pizza and watched some TV. Saturday I worked out and had dinner with some friends in SoHo. Sunday I golfed at Ferry Point with Shaun and some friends. It was a great weekend all in all.”

“No depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety?”

“No, it’s like I’m a different man but the Zoloft is helping with the highs and lows. Maybe that’s it?”

“You do seem better, more at peace. I think this is a very positive event for you. No panic attacks all weekend? Not even a little?"

"Not one. I'm trying to focus on other things, positive things like friends and family and work. I think one Zoloft in the morning helps me not to overreact to situations. And working out helps me to sleep soundly."

"Excellent, excellent, Friday was what I was hoping for. Keep with the Zoloft for now." He pulls out his prescription pad and scribbles more Zoloft for me. My own bottle like the one Parker keeps near and dear to him, that's part of his identity. "I'll see you Thursday Parker."

I head back to the office with a spring in my step. Lunch is my typical Italian sub I eat while my phone is beeping like mad and my mailbox if filling up. Apparently, Parker must be busy because he hasn't responded to any emails this morning, only the new Parker has.

Shaun drops in with a big grin while I’m reviewing emails. “You’ll never guess who’s paying up and avoiding bankruptcy.”

“Hmmm, wild guess—Aerion?”

“Give the man a stuffed animal. Now you won’t be hounding me and Robert. They got a huge infusion of cash from Airbus.” 

“I’ll keep hounding and believe it when I see a $900,000 deposit in our account.”

“Cashier’s check hand delivered tomorrow morning.”

I turn to my computer and open our Chase account. “Don’t see it yet.” I grin at him like only Parker could.

“Wow, joking like old times. How did things go with Dr. Pomme?”

“Well as he said, I either had a breakdown or breakthrough after our last session.”

“I’d say breakthrough. You’ve never been normal but getting back to your abnormal self would be great.” He smartly mocks me.

“I thought about your comment about waiting till Paul is up to speed. You may have a point. I’ll see how I’m feeling after my session on Thursday.”

“One step at a time. Oh, you up for dinner with Ed Reynolds and his wife on Friday? La Dolce Vita…” He dangles the name like it’ll will entice me. I’ll have to find out what it means to Parker.

“Oh yeah, if I go to California, my flight leaves at noon on Saturday.”

“You need a ride?”

“Nah, thanks but I’ll have Paul take me. He needs practice driving around New York.”

Shaun continues to catch me up on his issues, Jenny keeps me on my toes and the rest of my day flies by. Taylor picks me up and gets me home about 6:30. Parker is watching TV and has a pizza in front of him.

“Bro,  how was work?” He wakes up seeing me.

“No problems whatsoever. Being CEO has its perks.  I ask and my staff provides. Jenny is a godsend.”

“I started going through some of your sent emails and other than you being lenient on Orion Tech’s blatant theft, you did great. I read a few wondering if I sent them myself, then looked at the time stamp and knew I hadn’t.”

“And you were always the softy growing up.”

“Not when it comes to business and Orion Tech is trying to screw us over. I’ll call him personally tomorrow.”

“Good to know. So Dr. Pomme was okay with you getting a 2nd opinion, actually encouraged it and the door is always open. He asked how I was after ‘our’ session on Friday, and I said I was fine.”

“That’s good because he’s Shaun’s father’s best friend and I’m sure I come up in conversations. Maybe I’m paranoid but Dr. Pomme could be used against me in ousting me from Thomas Financial.”

“Wow, small world huh? So you only took the Zoloft today? You sound good. By the way, you’ll be glad to know Aerion is paying up tomorrow, the full amount.”

“Yeah yeah, and I believe in Santa still too.”

“Shaun assured me, they got a huge infusion of cash from Airbus. Here’s something funny, Shaun says you should postpone the Refuge until you’re sure I’m up to speed being you. ‘Just a few more weeks’ he proposed. I told him I’d think about it and decide before Saturday.”

“He is totally clueless. But look at you—in my custom Brioni, hair slicked perfectly, nailing my executive image without my help.”

“Based on your wardrobe, it’s your only image and I can appreciate it. Plus your Instagram helps. You always have a pocket square tucked elegantly in your suit jacket, you always use an Italian knot with a single dimple and your favorite watch is your Omega, sometimes a Rolex like today.” I lift up my sleeve and show him. “You all set for California?”

“Packed and flying out to California on a redeye Wednesday night. Found a quaint Airbnb cabin on the coast in Carmel for a few nights. Sort of a miniature vacation before Refuge. I just need to get through the next few days without any breakdowns in front of anyone.”

“I can give you a ride, still know my way around New York.”

“No, that’s okay, I always use Execucab service. Taylor will bring me home as usual, I’ll change into something comfortable and have them get me to the airport.”

THE SWITCH

The next few days fly by. I’m at home watching Parker’s days unfold live in front of me. When he thinks no one is paying attention, he grabs his head as if in pain. He doesn’t wait till noon to start on the Scotch either. He’s taking three Zolofts per day—breakfast, lunch and dinner. He got through Tuesday acting and appearing like his normal self. I don’t know what happened Wednesday though, when he lost it with a customer no less. He went from nice charming guy to raving loon in five minutes on the phone with him. I’ll definitely have to apologize and fix it tomorrow.

He tells Jenny he’s got some errands to run and skips out at 3:30pm. An hour later Parker walks through the door looking exhausted and in a rotten mood. He barely says hello and runs up the stairs. I follow him into his bedroom while he starts stripping out of his work clothes, then jumps in the shower.

While he’s showering, I pick up after him, hanging up his suit after emptying his iPhone, wallet, pills and keys out of the pockets. He comes out looking refreshed.

“Wow, I needed that. What a day of meetings, customer complaining about terms he agreed to years ago, and IT wanting money for new equipment. I lost it at one point but luckily Jenny was at lunch and Shaun was meeting with Chase all afternoon.” He starts dressing in jeans, v-neck sweater and pair of his old Nike sneakers.

“That’s good. So I packed your backpack for you… noise cancelling headphones, iPad for entertainment and my wallet, passport and burner phone. My debit card is there and has about $10,000 in the bank, PIN is 0286, my social security number, just in case you need it.”

He digs through the bag, checking everything. He tucks my wallet into his back pocket but leaves everything else in the bag. “That’s great, I totally forgot about that. I plan on sleeping the entire direct trip. Oh, my PIN for everything is the last four of my social security—2308. I don’t know what I have in there but my black Amex is unlimited and if they call to verify a purchase, the PIN is 2308 also.”

“Oh, my class ring and watch Paul.” I remind him and he hands them over without hesitating. It slips easily on my finger with a perfect fit crowning me Parker. The Rolex is my favorite but tomorrow I’ll go back to my usual Omega watch. 

Nice, now I have complete access to his financial life. It was the only piece missing but I would have guessed it correctly. I tuck his wallet, iPhone and keys into my pockets. When he thinks I’m not looking, he sneaks his prescription bottles into the backpack. I help him drag his luggage down the stair just as the Execucab pulls in the driveway. 

Once he’s gone, my mind turns to my new life. Paul is gone, I’m now Parker and feeling great. I run up the stairs and slip on his favorite Omega. It’s 4pm and I can make it back to the office before 5pm. I strip out of my jeans and run to the hamper putting back on his socks and underwear he wore all day long. I jump into his pants, pull on his dress shirt then knot a perfect Italian knotted tie on the first attempt. I pull on the lapel vest, suit coat, tuck everything back in my pockets, including my pills and stare at Parker Thomas in the mirror. My hair needs a little pomade but after that’s worked in, I’m the epitome of Parker. 

On the living room sofa is ‘my’ briefcase and topcoat I wore earlier. In the garage, I grab the keys for the 911 and head back to work, finishing the day Parker started. People are starting to leave as I walk to my office. Jenny greets me with her usual efficiency.

“Parker, I didn’t think I’d see you back.”

“Oh, just a quick errand to pick up my baby at the Porsche dealer.”

“Well you didn’t miss much. IT put that request on your desk. Stahl called asking what you said to Ben Mosser to piss him off.”

“Have you seen Shaun?”

“I think they went to Beef’s for a quick happy hour, you just missed him.”

She looks at me with that ‘do you need anything else look’. “Well, have a good evening Jenny.” She grabs her coat and leaves. I hang up my coat and suit jacket and jump behind my desk. There’s a half glass of Scotch to finish along with one of the Zolofts in my pocket. 

First thing I do is call Ben Mosser and apologize for my outburst earlier. I blame it on some bad personal news and unfairly took it out on him. I promise to review the numbers again tomorrow and call him back. He accepted my apology, thanked me for the personal touch and was sorry for whatever happened. 

I call Shaun to check in. “Hey bro, Jenny says you were looking for me?”

“Just about joining us at Beef’s, we’ll be here for another hour at least, probably grab dinner upstairs. I have the night off, Susan and Hanna are having a mother/daughter sleepover at her sister’s house.”

“I’ll be right there.” Beef’s is just a few blocks away but I take an Uber for ease.

We’re there for hours talking shit, drinking and eating junk food. Shaun looks at me odd when he sees me drinking a martini. I whisper to him ‘no Zoloft all day’ and he gives me a proud squeeze on my shoulder. We move to the restaurant on the upper level for dinner and we’re there till 9pm. 

Afterwards, I head back to the office to pick up my briefcase and check on emails.  I just spent 4 hours with my best friend and coworkers, playing them perfectly. Here I am, in ‘my’ office wearing a beautiful $8,000 custom Brioni suit, $50,000 Rolex and $400 Brioni tie. I’m Parker Thomas and can now start making changes slowly. First I respond to a few emails. I then call Taylor and cancel his security services, telling him I’m working through my fears and this is a first step. The truth is, I have four gorgeous automobiles in my garage getting dusty. It’s time to get back on the horse is what I’ll tell Dr. Pomme and Shaun tomorrow. 

It’s great not having to worry about Parker as I enter ‘my’ home. I duplicate all his typical actions. I head upstairs, place my briefcase, wallet on the dresser then change into his pajama shorts and t-shirt. Back downstairs go to the front door, grab my mail and start opening it. I’m taking over every aspect of his life. 

My iPhone dings with a text message from a new contact.

Unknown: Hey sexy Parker how are you. It’s Chris from Pronto the other night.

His timing is perfect, but instead of texting him back, I call him immediately. 

“Evening sexy. I’ve been thinking of your kiss since Saturday.” I greet him.

“Same, you turn me on so much with your dimpled smile and sexy scruff. Can’t wait to lick it again.”

“How about I meet you at Pronto tomorrow night? Say 8pm, we’ll go from there. I don’t live far from there.”

“It’s a date Parker. Sleep tight babe.”

FIRST DAY 

I head up to my new bedroom, take off my suit and immediately fall to sleep in the California king bed. His usual alarm wakes me and I continue as Parker. I start to think of ‘my’ image today, how to look like my hot shot CEO brother. Scrolling through my Instagram, there’s a pic of him in a pinstripe double breasted suit from a month ago. He comments how it’s his favorite suit—now it’s mine. 

I actually love my new stylish wardrobe with it’s custom fitted suits, shirts and shoes. I adopt his ‘wall street’ image with the same custom double breasted suit, black pattern tie and pencil stripe shirt. It’s identical to what he wore a few months ago. It’s the perfect suit for my first day as CEO of Thomas Financial. My Omega, as usual, is my watch for today. 

Since I’m driving myself again, I take my X5 and get into the office early. It’s great being accepted as Parker. I’m in the office going through emails when Shaun stops in my office. He comes over to my side of the desk, sits on the corner and I rotate my chair to face him. 

I look at him odd. “What’s going on?”

“You beat me into the office Stefan?”

“So? I couldn’t sleep, didn’t take any sleeping pills.” I know he’s testing my identity.

“Stefan?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell I’m your best friend, your only friend?” I run my hair through my hair, per our agreement weeks ago. “You want to see my scar?” Without waiting, I stand up, lift my pant leg and show him my scar.

“Hey, no fair, I have other friends. It’s just that you’re in early, you drove yourself today and don’t look like death warmed over.”

“Do you want to check my fingerprints? How about your antics at Pebble Beach?” Thanks to Parker’s loose lips, I have a ton of personal stories about our relationship.

“Okay, okay, I’m convinced, you’re Parker.”

“I’m feeling really good. I didn’t get anxiety thinking of driving to work. I think the Zoloft was fucking with my brain. I decided to stop cold turkey. Dr. Pomme says to take ‘as needed’ so that’s what I’m doing.” 

“Wow buddy, I’m really happy for you. You seem sharper, I noticed it Sunday when you barely beat me.”

“Barely? I beat you convincingly, and made your dad nervous.” I look at him incredulously.

“Obviously, you’re on other drugs. What are they and share with me.” He laughs. “So are you ready for Cooper Inc today?”

“Yeah, all set for this morning, another reason why I’m in early.” 

“Well, if you need anything, let me know.” He stands up and heads to his office. He’ll never doubt my identity again.  I follow Parker’s routine naturally. Jenny comes in with my coffee and start reviewing my schedule. The Cooper team comes in and we review their request. It’s such a minor request and Cooper himself is a Penn Alumni also, so I sign off on the paperwork.  

At my therapist appointment, I inform Dr. Pomme that I’m back to driving myself and I’m cutting back on Zoloft. He’s delighted with my progress and probes the reason for this new found outlook. I googled PTSD recovery this morning and incorporated some great buzzwords into my explanation. Once he heard what he wanted, he’s thrilled with his success and agrees to see me on an ‘as needed’ basis. 

I stop in Shaun’s office when I get back and shut the door. He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face as I take my seat.

“What’s going on Parker?”

“I’m on an ‘as needed’ basis with Dr. Pomme now.”

“That’s great, what about the Zoloft?”

“I haven’t taken one in a day and a half now and I feel great. I feel so clear headed, the first time in months.”

“So what about the Refuge?”

“Well, you were probably right about Paul not being ready but now I’m feeling like I don’t need the Refuge.”

“Dammit, I’m stuck with you?”

“Ha, you’d be lost without me, and you know it.”

Back in my private bathroom I check myself in the mirror. I identity is flawless. My tie is perfectly knotted, my hair matches Parker’s and I have his cocky, confident demeanor. Slipping into my new life is easy thanks to Parker’s coaching and my own efforts.

The afternoon flies by without any major issues. Shaun lets me know he’s skipping out early to take his wife and in-laws out for dinner. He’s thrilled to hear about my date with a new guy, confessing he never liked 

At home I get ready for my date with Chris. I really like what ‘I’  wore out Saturday night with my friends, so I recycle it completely. It’s all ‘dressy casual’ Prada—light gray suit with long sleeve knit shirt and buckle dress shoes. I accessorize it a few wristbands and a less pretentious watch.

Chris shows up on time, we have drinks followed by dinner, then I take him home and we fuck most of the night away. Even though he’s a lawyer, he’s really impressed by my home and lifestyle—I was too a few weeks ago. He has to be downtown early so he’s up and out the door by 5:30. We make plans to see each other this weekend as I say goodbye. I jump in bed for another hour, reliving yesterday and last night in my head. 

TGIF 

Day two of being my brother. Having sex half the night and popping a Zoloft will definitely give me Parker’s usual strung out look. To look the part is becoming the easiest part of the day—jumping in the shower and picking an appropriate out. I keep it simple with all Tom Ford Bespoke, white shirt and simple white pocket square. It’s a less flashy look for me but Parker has worn very similar outfits over the past year according to his Instagram.

I drive my 911 Targa to work and pull into my spot just as Shaun pulls in. I get out, button my suit coat and grab my briefcase.

“Wow, driving the baby?” Shaun comments.

“Sure, no rain or anything today. I just got her back from the dealer and wanted to check her out.”

“Life isn’t fair. You get to drive that and I have an SUV with child seat in mine.”

“You could put a child seat in my back seat, you should buy one.” I joke back. 

“I’ll just borrow your’s then, see if it works for me.” He laughs and I laugh along. “So no problem driving to work? No panic attacks?”

“A little anxiety, I wouldn’t call it panic or fear. I’ve noticed it’s worst at night.” It’s plausible according to my research into PTSD.”

“As long as you’re okay bro.”

We stroll in together, just two executives starting their day. He heads to his office and I head to mine. Jenny greets me with coffee and my schedule when I get situated. She tells me the latest about her puppy and I tell her about my date last night. A few minutes after she leaves, ‘Paul’ calls me from California.  I get up and close my door to take it.

“Hey Paul, good to hear from you. How are things?”

“I lost Thursday.”

“You lost Thursday? What are you talking about? Too much drinking?”

“Well yeah, there was that too but have you ever had mushrooms? They’re amazing.”

“No, they fuck with your mind. You can OD on them too. They can cause hallucinations, and heighten other disorders like anxiety. Where did you get the mushrooms?”

“My buddy Johnny got them for me?”

“Johnny? You’re fucked up.”

“I’m fine, Johnny is my buddy, he’s the manager here.” He talks dopey.

“How far are you from the Refuge?”

“It’s just up the road, about 3 miles from here. I plan on checking in after lunch today.”

“That’s great. So listen to this, Shaun is still clueless about you being gone. He comes in your office, sits a few feet away, talks shop and hasn’t caught on. I told him I’m feeling so good being off the Zoloft that I’m having second thoughts on the Refuge.”

“He was never the sharpest tool in the nerf ball factory.” He laughs. “So just be me till I get back.”

“That’s what I’m thinking, then no one can say you had a breakdown and admitted yourself for treatment.”

“Oh my god! That’s devious but great! I’ll tell people it was all Shaun’s idea but I never followed through with it because I was feeling much better just talking to my therapist.”

“Yeah, as long as I can keep fooling Shaun.  Any pointers, shared secrets only you would know, things you share?” My brother starts spewing off everything they share. There’s so much history that I’ll have to listen to this phone call a few times to drill it into my head. As soon as I hang up with Paul, Joel and Shaun grab me for lunch and we just head downstairs for a quick one. I’m so at ease with Shaun after all I’ve learned. I’m back in Parker’s office when late in the afternoon I get a call from California.

“Parker Thomas.” I answer professionally.

“Mr. Thomas, this is Dr. Anoia from the Refuge. I’m calling to let you know your brother has checked in. We’ll be updating you as often or as little as you want. He does exhibit signs of PTSD but we haven’t done a full examination or test procedure on him.  These are all just initial impressions.  I want you to know, this looks like a case of complex PTSD, aggravated by the use of drugs.  This could take time to sort out but he’s come to the right place.”

“Please notify weekly of his progress or sooner if needed. What kind of time frame?”

“I’d guess two months max. We just need to cleanse him of what he’s taken and daily therapy.”

“Whatever it takes, money is no object doctor.” I play the concerned brother.

“Call anytime and once a week, we’ll email a summary of the entire week.”

“Thank you doctor.” 

Late in the day Shaun stops by, shutting the door. “Hey, so since you’re not going to California, looks like an Indian summer, Golf?”

“Sure, maybe I let you win. Who?”

“Joel and Todd, 9am tee time.”

“Sure I’m in, going to pick me up?”

“Ah, your turn buddy. Did you tell Paul about the Refuge yet?”

“Just that I was feeling better and he noticed it too. I’ll tell him tonight when I see him. I think he was getting worried about pulling the charade off. Between us, he probably could with you keeping an eye on him. Oddly, he doesn’t seem worried about money, just that he had a ‘stash’ in a safe deposit box and needed his key which I had in my safe.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need the $5m?”

I laugh out loud. “You don’t know Paul. He’s the tightest tight wad I know. He’ll expect it even if he only fills in for a day. Forget that he’s out of jail a year early, he’ll want his money.”

“Big plans for the weekend?” I ask like a friend.

“Hanna has a birthday party to go to tomorrow. It starts at noon and goes till about 5.”

“Just don’t tell me you’re dressing up as the clown.”

“Ha ha, not funny. How about I stop over tonight, order up some Pizza and watch the Johnson vs Gonzales match?”

“Sorry bro, I’ve got a date with Chris, a lawyer I met on the scruff app. We’re heading to Montauk, spending the night at his brother’s empty beach house.” I look at my watch. “I’m leaving as soon as you let me.” I fabricate an entire story to spend less time with him—less opportunity to giveaway my identity. After the last few days of being on stage, I just want some ‘Parker’ time at home.

“What about Paul?”

“Hell if I know, just as long as he doesn’t go out as me, wrecks one of my toys and gets me in trouble.”

PAUL BEING PARKER

I’m certain I could call Chris up and he’d come running over to my house but I’m taking it slow and really do want some me time. I leave the office early, get home and change out of my executive disguise. A long hot soak in my master bath helps me to relax. I dry off and change into my very own sweat pants and t-shirt I used to wear all the time. I’m going natural on the hair and skipping any jewelry.  For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself.

Dinner is just a pizza from down the street. When I go to answer the doorbell, I’m shocked to see Shaun greeting me instead of the pizza boy.

“Oh, ah hey there Shaun?” I question him, puzzled why he’s here. “Come on in. Parker isn’t here.”

Just then, the pizza boy comes running up the steps and hands me the pizza. I hand him $30, from my pocket and grab the pizza. “Want some pizza?”

I ordered my favorite—sausage and pepperoni, instead of Parker’s usual meat lovers.

“You’re a free man and this is your Friday night?”

“Well, when most of your friends are in jail or don’t talk to you, this is about it.” I explain the situation. “So Parker took off on some hot date, said not to expect him home tonight. He flew in the door, changed and took off. Mentioned not going to Refuge tomorrow, which makes sense if you’re fucking some stranger all night long.”

Shaun grabs a slice of pizza, takes a bite and tosses it back in the box. “Ewww, you need a night out bro.”

“What is with all the ‘bros’? You’re not frat boys.”

“We were frat boys, you wouldn’t understand. It’s hard to look at you and not see Parker.”

“Ah yeah, that’s normal for identical twins ‘bro’.” I use it back on him.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, get some real food and get wasted.”

“Okay, there’s the Rusty Nail just down the street, seems like a busy place.”

“No, Think big, think Manhattan. We have some of the best bars in the world just 40 minutes away.”

I moan. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Yes, of course, it’s Manhattan. Besides, you have a closet full of tailored suits upstairs at your disposal.”

“What if we run into someone that knows Parker, they’ll think I’m him. He might get pissed.” I pretend to be worried.

“So, you’re with me, and everyone will just think you’re him. Think of it as training.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’ll be needing me at this point. He seems much better.”

“I still think he should, can’t hurt. Run upstairs and change ‘Parker’, don’t want to miss happy hour.”

It’s ironic, my brother’s best friend helping me be his best friend after spending the last few days already as his best friend. “I’ll just wear what he wore today, it should still be on his bed from earlier.”

“That’s fine, and don’t forget the goo in your hair.”

“Great, so I’ll look like a pretentious yuppy banker.”

I run upstairs and start dressing in what I had on all day. I add a different watch and ring, because the real Parker would still be wearing his’. I work some pomade into my hair, part it perfectly and join Shaun in the living room. 

“Bro, you look just like Parker. Wow, if anyone sees us out, they’ll know it’s Shaun and Parker having out after work. He was wearing that same suit.”

“Yeah, it was on his lounge chair in his bedroom. Bro, let’s get out of here. I’m hungry and the pizza is cold.” I say in my best Parker impression. 

We jump into his SUV and he keeps looking over at me. “For the life of me, I cannot get over you two. In college he said he had a brother but nothing about being a twin.”

“Really, well I wanted my own life, so I went to Penn State. He stuck his nose up once he got to Penn—Mr. Ivy League.”

We park at the office, and walk to the Rusty Nail. As we get inside, Shaun looks around and whispers. “You’re Parker, I’m going to call you Parker from now to. Our coworkers, Tom, Joel and Todd are here standing by the bar.  Tom is sales, Joel and Todd are marketing.”

Shaun pulls out his wallet and give his credit card to run a tab. “You can’t be paying with a Paul Thomas credit card. The night’s on me, besides Susan will know I’m behaving myself if I’m with Parker. She really likes you. I’ll make sure to take plenty of pics and post them on IG.”

The only thing new about this happy hour is the bar. It’s my first time here but I’ve been out with these guys on Wednesday night. We’re there for hours eating junk food like wings, then watching the boxing match on TV. He’s coaching me on being Parker constantly, telling me details he knows about him. I got a good buzz on, while Shaun stopped halfway through the night. 

When we get back to the parking garage, he looks at me odd. “Let’s go back to your office.”

I don’t argue. “I don’t have a key.”

“I do.” He grins.

We pass security without questions and get up to my office. He opens my door and orders me to take a seat.

“Bro, you look just like Parker did today, just like him only he wasn’t shit face like you.” He laughs.

“Bro, have a little dignity for the CEO of Thomas Financial, will you?” I laugh too.

“Fuck you are him, that’s for sure.”

He tests me with some really basic questions and I pass with flying colors. I ask some questions back, even though I already knew the answers. We’re not there long, he just wanted to see me as Parker. On the way home I start laying the groundwork for Paul’s departure.

“So, since I’m probably not going to be needed, I may take off to Washington State to start over.”

“Really?”

“Sure, I have an ex that lives there, needs help with his brokerage firm. Not that I really need the job but have always loved Seattle. Between what Parker owes me and some money in a Cayman account, I don’t need to work that hard.”

“But if you’re not needed, you still expect to be paid?”

“Of course I do. He’s the one not holding up his part of the agreement. I’ve been studying for weeks now and from what I’ve seen, $5m is nothing to him. Come on, what’s Thomas Financial worth? His stock?”

“Wow, you may look like him but that’s about it. He did spring you from jail early, spent a half a million just doing that.”

“Yeah and didn’t visit me once in prison.”

It got quiet after that exchange but it’s exactly what I wanted. Once Paul is gone, he won’t doubt my falling-out with him or wonder why he doesn’t hear from Paul. I can’t wait till ‘Parker’ plays golf on Sunday with Shaun. He drops me off with a disgusted ‘Later’ brushoff. I don’t blame him, I don’t like Paul either—I make a much better Parker.

FREE WEEKEND

It takes a while to wake up after a night of drinking. It’s 8am—somehow I slept through the alarm and missed my session with my trainer at Lifetime Fitness. I find his workout bag and the trainer squeezes me in late. I’m there till noon working out. On the way home I start thinking about the rest of my weekend. I know I need to stop in the office to catch up on paperwork—approving payrolls, expense accounts and new spending like the IT request. While I’m downtown, I might as well hit up a few of my favorite mens shops. 

I’m Parker Thomas and need to think of myself as the only Parker Thomas and keep up his habits and mannerisms. I get home, take a quick shower and search my closet for a CEO appropriate outfit for a Saturday. I open up my Instagram and start scrolling through it while scanning his closet until something jumps  out at me.

Inspiration strikes when an almost year old post catches my attention—gray plaid sport coat, a black dress shirt and dark gray dress pants. I can’t see the shoes but Parker loves wearing loafers and I spot a light gray pair to go with everything. I dig thought the closet, manage to find the entire outfit, lay everything out on the bed and inspect it. It’s perfect—business casual enough for the office while casual for shopping on a Saturday. 

Transforming myself in Parker is always arousing—slowly adding each item, building up my image. When I look in the mirror, Parker is staring back from the mirror. I smile, check my hair making sure my part is perfect. I walk into my bedroom, over to my dresser and add my class ring and Omega watch. Once my iPhone and wallet are added, I’m ready for my typical work day.  

My favorite toy is the 911 Targa for sure. I jump in, retract the roof and put on my sunglasses. It’s a little chilly for an early winter day but I don’t care. I’m completely at ease in the office, following everything Parker did the past few weekends. Shaun calls as I’m finishing up. 

“Hey Bro.” I answer my frat brother.

“Can I get the death penalty for killing a group of 5 yr olds?”

I just laugh. “No, you can’t. It’d be justifiable childslaughter. That bad?”

“Yeah. I’m in charge of bouncy house. You in the office?”

“Just finishing up, going to do a little shopping, doing dinner with Ken and John. Is the bouncy house really bouncy?”  I laugh at him.

“Yes, almost broke my neck rescuing lil Alex who got stuck in a corner, believe me, it’s bouncy enough. Hey, don’t forget golf tomorrow. You don’t have to pick me up, I’ll just meet you there. I’ve got a list of errands to run now, like returning party crap for Linda.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you there.” 

I pack up my office and head out shopping. First stop is ‘Pro Golf’, where I spend quite a bit of money on the latest golf clothes.  Based on the many receipts from my previous spending sprees, I do this every few months. I spending $1000 on new shoes, pants and shirts. I make sure to keep with ‘my’ conservative style. 

The next stop is Garrison Bespoke on 5th Avenue. From what I’ve seen in my closet, a third of my suits are Garrison. There’s a receipt to pick up something a few weeks ago, which Parker hasn’t bother to do. I’m recognized and treated like royalty as I enter the store. I’m taken to a private changing room where I try on my new custom suit. It’s a new navy 3 piece suit with a lapel vest. The fit is as expected—perfect. A team of salesmen help me select a few ties and shirts to match with it. I select a few more items, spending a few thousand on shirts, ties and a leather jacket. 

The X5 is loaded with my purchases and it takes a few trips to unload at home. I help myself to some wine, take a break when my friends Colin and Jeff call to do dinner tonight. I accept and also invite Chris along to start meeting ‘my’ friends. It’s a fun evening with them and probably our last Saturday get-together if Oklahoma is the success Jeff expects it to be. I spend the night at Chris’ downtown but don’t sleep in due to golf with Shaun. 

The next day I get to Ferry Point early to have a relaxing breakfast on the patio but also check out the place. I call Shaun and he agrees to meet me at 8 am. I’ve already changed and having coffee when Shaun shows up with a pat on the shoulder and a big smile for his frat bro. 

“I shouldn’t be playing today, my back is killing me.” He whines.

“Making excuses for losing already?” I counter him.

“It’s true, those 5 year olds worked me over. My back from that damn bouncy house, then hauling Hanna and others on my back killed my knees.”

“Whatever bro, you’re buying drinks at the 19th hole later regardless of your excuses.” I laugh at him.

“So I need to give you a heads up on something that happened.”

“More delays in finance? I’m expecting it.”

“No, it’s about Paul.”

“Paul? What about him?” I look at him puzzled but have been expecting him to bring up Friday.

“Have you spoken to him about maybe not needing his services?” He says discretely. 

“Not really, haven’t seen him since Thursday night. He noticed I was feeling better and told him I was putting off the Refuge for a week or two, to give him time. He seemed happy for me, maybe relieved for himself? Why?”

“I spoke with him and he got bent out of shape when I mentioned it. Said you would still owe him $5m regardless.”

“When did you talk to him?” I question.

“Friday night, I stopped by on my way home to drop off the IRS filings for you. He was there and we started talking. You’re right, he would need more time to be you. I did test him on some things and he was passable as you.”

“He didn’t say a word about it or the filings?” I question him.

“He’s a little rough around the edges but he could do it just based on looks. Get him in one of your suits and no one doubts his identity. I felt bad for him, alone on a Friday night ordering pizza, wearing sweats like housewife, no real friends so I took him out.”

I look at him oddly? “You too him out? Where?”

“Just to the Rusty Nail for happy hour. He had a blast.”

“You had him out in public? Was anyone at the Nail?”

“Tom, Joel and Todd. We did happy hour, then dinner.”

“Jesus Shaun, what were you thinking, introducing him to those guys?”

“Relax, they thought he was you and they didn’t question a thing.”

“How could they not? What, I just went home and changed into jeans while they were working?”

“Well, he borrowed your suit from earlier and they had no clue he wasn’t you. He shot the shit about the Eagles and Flyers—.”

I cut him off. “So you had him impersonate me, wear my favorite suit and then what? What else?”

“Nothing really, I took him home and we started talking about how much better you’re doing,  and that’s when he talked about the money. He talked about some money in the Caymans and moving to Seattle and taking a job with his ex.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how much money he managed to hide but I held a safe deposit key for him and he went there to retrieve some things. He didn’t say what. I hope he does go to live with his ex, I don’t want him living with me. He asked to borrow my Vette to drive out to Portland to visit him. Paul doesn’t have a drivers license, if he got pulled over, he’d try to tell them he’s me and that ‘I’ forgot my wallet. He was pissed I said no but driving across country without a license is insane.”

“He said Seattle, not Portland.” Shaun corrects my fake mistake.

“Whatever, it’s on the other side of the country and that’s fine by me.”

Shaun shakes his head in disbelief. “I told him you paid a lot of money to get him out but he’s pissed you never visited him. Are you going to pay him the $5m?”

“Are you nuts?  He probably has $10m squirreled away in some Cayman account. I did enough for him while he hasn’t done a thing for me.” Actually its more like $5m.

“Just don’t burn bridges, you may need him. Maybe you’ll need a kidney someday.”  

“With the way he drinks, he’ll be needing a liver from me.”

“Yeah, he did knock down a lot of beer Friday, no martinis,”

“So I was drunk in front of everyone. Beer, yeah that’s Paul.”

“Tom was hammered. Joel drove everyone home.”

“Don’t do that again. I sort of hate him being out there as me, and you helped him.”

“Oh come on, He did a decent job as you. Unlike you though, he kept the shop talk to a minimum.”

Todd and Joel shows up at this time. We finish our talk and all head out to our carts. We have a blast and I beat everyone. Joel and Todd are hacks, and I manage to convincingly beat Shaun. At the 19th hole, without Ted and Shaun Sr there, Shaun slips his phone number to Mel and whispers to her. 

IN PLACE 

I’m excited to be back in the office Monday. I’m impeccably dressed in my new Garrison Bespoke 3 piece suit, custom shirt and ties. I add a pocket square as is ‘my’ style. His style is now mine. Having his wardrobe helps but I also make sure anything I purchase reflects his tastes, not mine.

My life unfolds easily with no one questioning my actions or identity. When Shaun mentions ‘You’re back to your old self’, I know he won’t be questioning my identity ever again. I’m running a billion dollar company as well or better than Parker. I’m meeting clients, having lunches and happy hours with Shaun and other friends. 

I’m still learning a lot about Parker’s life daily but its subtle learning. I use all of ‘my’ friends and contact to fill in little details. Shaun’s wife ‘reminds’ me of our joint vacations or other special event. Jenny is the office gossip and fills in other events. When Paul returns, I’ll then hit him up on his perspective on them. 

I tell Shaun that Paul is whoring around, finally got his license and busy connecting with old friends. He doesn’t seem too enamored with Paul anymore after our happy hour. He’s not happy that I’m considering paying him the $5 million.

I hear from the Refuge that Paul’s the first week was tough. He tried to smuggle in his meds, stitched into the lining of his luggage. Blood tests revealed them, and a detail search uncovered them. Withdrawal was painful for him, preventing any real therapy. He was demanding to be let out, but I’m the only one who can approve it.

Things are getting serious with Chris. The sex is great, and he’s not clingy. He’s met all my friends, and attended Oklahoma with me, Shaun and Susan. My personal life has never been better. Winter is here finally so no more golf at Ferry Point but planning our annual ski trip to Killington VT. 

Refuge’s doctor reveals that Paul has entered the ‘controlled medication’ phase and his response is very slow. He’s started daily therapy, and will slowly phased into group therapy next week. They estimate at least two more weeks of treatment.

Four weeks as the only Parker and things couldn’t be better. We’ve landed a key new client thanks to my quick thinking on long term financing options. Shaun was thrilled with my outside-the-box thinking. We celebrated with a long happy hour at the Rusty Nail. I’ve replaced Parker completely. I have his work habits as my own. His style and attitude are now mine.

Thomas Financial’s quarterly board meeting is the typical event lead by the CEO. I just studied the recordings of previous meetings and build on top of them. It was stressful leading up to it but once I kick it off, I’m Parker Thomas. I easily handle questions about Thomas Financial, the upcoming dividend and future growth. Afterwards, board members come up to me, congratulating me on ‘my’ handling of the company. No one dare mention my personal health issues but my performance proved that it’s all behind me. 

The latest update from Refuge sounds a very positive.  He’ll be back in a weeks, able to take back his life. I need him in place for a week while I have my fingerprints changed. I’ll use his week to sow doubt of his identity and reinforce to Shaun and others  that I’m Parker.

I start setting the groundwork for his return. I have my teeth whitened so that Shaun will notice ‘Paul’s’ when he’s in my office. I keep my regular haircut appointment with Steve Bonacorsi but have him give me very short sides. When Paul gets back, he won’t be able to go see Steve for a haircut so he’ll end up with a supercut style. When I debrief Parker about the last month, I’ll leave out details like Shaun hooking up with Mel, or some of my business deals. It’ll be little details like these that’ll catch Shaun’s attention and have him questioning who’s who. 

THE RETURN

I’m in my office Saturday morning reviewing paperwork when I get a call from my old burner phone. Parker must be a free man and it’s time to put my plan to work.

“Hey bro.” I answer the phone.

“Oh man, it’s good to be out of that place. I’m at O’Hare waiting for my flight, I get into JFK about 3pm, AA flight 273. Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll see you then.  So was it worth it?” 

“I still have nightmares at night, not every night just once in a while. My anxiety is gone, so yes I know it helped, but will it come back.”

“That’s great, I’ll see you then.”

I take my time finishing up in the office then head directly to JFK. Parker’s plane lands on time and I text him my location at arrival. There’s a tapping on the hatch of the X5. I pop the  opener.

“Hey Parker.” Parker greets me with his name, and jumps in the front seat. He’s in the same clothes he left in but he needs a shave and haircut as I expected. 

“Wow, I guess I look more like you than you do, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think about a haircut till I saw you. How’s my baby?”

“Don’t worry, I only put 10,000 miles on her.” I joke back knowing he’s talking about Thomas Financial.

“No, how’s Thomas Financial?”

“It’s never been in more capable hands. It’s in better shape than when you left it. I had to handle the board meeting but I had previous board meeting videos to study. I purchased a new Garrison suit for it even.”

“So does Shaun know I’ve been gone? Were you discovered?”

“Paul, look at me. He didn’t doubt anything. I told him ‘Paul’ flew to Seattle to visit his ex. That ‘you’ve’ been whoring around, connecting with old friends. I told him I recovered thanks to Dr. Pomme. His only concern was ‘Paul’ wanting his $5 million for doing nothing for me?”

Parker laughs. “Ha, It’d be funny for him to see me like this and I get to play you. Maybe shake you down for $10m in front of him.”

“Hmmm, that would be fun. He was saying he’s alone this weekend. Susan is taking Hanna to see grandma in Philly, so he mentioned about watching the game tonight at his place. I could bring my brother, I’m the only one he invited.” 

“That would be funny but we can never let him know he’s been played for weeks. He’d get pissed.”

I hit the talk button and order Siri. “Call Shaun.”

“Hey Bro.” He greets me, while ‘Paul’ watches. 

“Hey so you still good for game tonight?”

“For sure, pick up some Stromboli will ya?  I have the drinks cover.”

“No problem, I just picked Paul up at JFK, I’ll bring him unless there’s other people coming?”

“No, just us three. I didn’t feel like a major get together. Joel and others are heading to Brewser’s downtown.”

“We’ll see you about 8 then.” I hang up the phone and ‘Paul’ laughs at me. “Shaun is brilliant in the office, but not too bright with people.”

“That’s why I handle the clients and employees, while he handles the finances.”

WRESTLING MATCH 

We get home about 5pm and Paul jumps in his bathtub and soaks. He doesn’t bother to shave his beard and asks for my help in becoming me. I dress him in old Levis, sweater and sneakers. I don’t let him wear any of his dressy coats, instead, forcing him into an old North Face ski jacket and skull cap. Meanwhile I go full Parker staying with my Saturday office outfit—brown plaid  sport coat, tan dress pants and a blue dress shirt.

‘Paul’ comes down looking nothing like himself. “Paul, you look refreshed after a long day.”

“Look at you, the spitting image of me. I know I’ve worn that outfit before.” He questions.

“Yeah, I found it on your Instagram and duplicated it. So can your respond to ‘Paul’?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing at the Refuge for the last 6 weeks? So yes, I’ll make sure to keep in character too.” He runs his hand through his  product free hair. “I’ve kinda gotten use to not having ‘goo’ in my hair but looks like you’ve adapted.”

I reach over and mess up his hair. “So how was the ex?”

“We fucked like bunnies for weeks. It was awesome. I needed it after prison. I think I’m moving out there with him.” He laughs. “Shaun is squeamish about me talking about gay sex, it’s don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Wow, you had a great time.”

“Just give me the $5m you owe me and I’m gone. Can I take the X5 to help me move?” He keeps in Paul mode.

“You didn’t do a thing for the $5 million, I spent a couple hundred grand bailing you out. You should be repaying me that. Rent a Uhaul.” I stay as Parker. “Wow, that was me completely. What did you have to do to spring me from jail?”

“Easy, I hired Gavin Fields, the best attorney in all of New York, paid him close to $200,000, and shopped around for a doctor about my mental issue.”  He gives me enough information to search for emails, payments to figure out the details. 

Parker actually sounds normal, no nervousness or drowsiness. I’m watching his impersonation of me and realize I have no desire to be that person again. We talk for an hour, then head to Shaun’s place. I added the address to the GPS earlier but Parker guided me there. I walk in first without knocking and call out ‘Hey Bro!’—as Parker suggested but didn’t need to. Parker is carrying the stromboli and asks where Shaun wants the food. Before we walked in, Parker filled me in on where the kitchen and bathroom are, so I’d know it like he does.

Shaun grabs some plates and starts serving the food. I help myself to the wine he has on the counter, while Parker grabs a beer from the fridge, asking first. We have each other’s identity down pat. We carry everything into the family room, in the back of the house. 

Shaun looks at ‘Paul’ and shakes his head in disbelief. “I definitely can’t mix up you two any more.”

‘Paul’ jumps right in. “When you’re busy fucking raw like bunnies, there’s no time to shave or get a haircut.”

I put my hand on my head and do a shameful nod. Shaun cringes. “Ewww too much information Paul, please, I’m not homophobic but I don’t need to know that.  Just say ‘I had a great time with my friends.’

“Paul, Shaun is kind of a prude. I don’t think he kissed his wife at the wedding.” I jump in and poke fun.

“Ugh, you breeders.” Paul laughs at Shaun.

“Well it sounds like you had a good time. You going to move there or just mooch off your brother?” Shaun bluntly asks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Take my $5 million, move out there or Hawaii and party.”

“$5 million for what?” Shaun gets cocky.

“For all my work, only to have it wasted.”

“Well, looking at you now, it doesn’t look like you’ve done much work on it.” Shaun digs deeper.

“I don’t have to prove myself to you. This is between me and Parker.” Now ‘Paul’ is getting pissed by his attitude.

I jump in. “Hey guys, calm down. It’s all good. Look at me, I’m fine!! Thank god for Dr. Pomme and that I didn’t need Paul. I did put him through a lot of shit. Shaun, you don’t know how I grilled Paul while I was strung out on Zoloft.”

“I could have fooled you easily Shaun.” ‘Paul’ gets cocky. 

“I doubt it.” Shaun mumbles. “The game is coming on, grab a drink.”

I grab my wine glass, head back to the kitchen and refill my glass. They’re not paying attention to me, so I head back to where the bathroom should be. I shut the door, relieve myself and relax. That was an intense exchange but Parker really played me perfectly. When I get back to the family room, they’re both intensely watching the game. We’re there for hours having a great time. I can’t believe how tense things are all night long. At the end of the night, Parker keeps up the charade, asking where the bathroom is. 

When he’s gone, Shaun whispers to me. “Bro, your brother is an ass. Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of paying him a dime.”

“No bro, I’m just humoring him. I’ll get him out of the house.”

“Good, let me know if you need hel—“ Just then ‘Paul’ returns to the kitchen.

We thank Shaun and head home. Once in the car, Parker turns to me. “Wow, he didn’t like me at all Parker.”

I laugh out loud. “No, you were obnoxious and rude to my best friend.”

“It was funny fucking with him and seeing you play me flawlessly.”

“He’s just being protective of me.” I smile at him. “Hey, now that you’re back, I’m going to Detroit for a week. Remember Jim Yates?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He invited me to visit for a week, hang out. We’re probably going to fuck like bunnies.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Oh my god, I totally forget. You have a boyfriend.”

“What?”

“He name is Chris Horvath, you’ll love him. I met him at pronto.” I show him pics of him.

“Fuck, he’s hot, thanks Parker. If I get laid that’s worth $5m.” He smiles at me.

“You have dinner with him Tuesday at Darcy’s, then back to his place. He’s a bottom.”

I drive us home and fill him in on his new boyfriend. He’s more interested in Chris than what he missed at work. 

DETAILS

The next morning I have Parker drop me off at JFK to catch my fictional flight to Detroit. Once he’s gone, I catch an Uber to Dr. Harris’ facility. He immediately gets me in for surgery. Parker is planning on getting a haircut, then head into the office. He says he’ll probably call me with a dozen questions. He didn’t think to take pics of my hair. He’ll probably get his regular haircut that Shaun is sure to notice, since he noticed my short sides last week. I may not be readily available to help him with his job questions. 

I’m knocked out and wake up a hours later, groggy with a sore mouth and my hands bandaged like a mummy’s. My hands and mouth are numb. My first worry is how I’m going to use the bathroom. Dr. Harris comes in with a nurse carrying my dinner.

“Paul, it was a very simple and successful procedure. You and your brother have similar fingerprints which made my job a little easier and will help you heal faster. The tooth took a little longer than we thought but you’re good now.”

“That’s great doctor. Thank you.”

“We’ll check back tomorrow morning but for now, eat and get some sleep.”

I’m given some Ambien and pass out for 10 hours. The nurse wakes me up with breakfast and helps me get cleaned up. A few hours later Dr. Harris comes in and unwraps my hand. He’s thrilled with the results and says I can probably go home tomorrow. My fingers are dipped into a flesh color gel then wrapped individually, a little less tightly. Parker calls my burner phone but I let it go to voicemail. I open up my MacBook and start checking my feeds.  

Yesterday’s video show him arriving to his office with a haircut and shave. His hair doesn’t match mine on the sides and Shaun will notice that detail. I switch to the live feed and watch him get into the office. He follows his routine, Jenny brings him coffee but he hardly talks to her. Parker has this intense look on his face as he starts on email.

Shaun walks in a few minutes later, shuts the door and takes his usual chair. “Hey Bro, was I too rough on Paul?”

“Oh no, he’s fine. Hell, he took off to Detroit to visit an old trick. I think we’re better as brothers than roomies. He’s trying to figure out what to do with his life.”

I catch an odd glimpse on Shaun’s face. “Did you get a haircut?”

“Oh no, just styled it differently.” He dismisses the question. 

“Don’t forget we have lunch with Reynolds today at Ghezzi’s.”

“We do?” Parker looks at his watch, which isn’t his usual Omega but a more casual Tag for some unknown reason. “Grab me when you’re ready, you’re driving.”

From my hospital bed I keep an eye on his day, watching his office and following his emails and phone calls. He’s getting up to speed slowly, making mistakes. Where I had weeks to study his work life and was accepted as him, He’s been gone six weeks and didn’t feel the need to be debriefed by me. Parker has always been arrogant like that.

On Tuesday, Dr. Harris comes in and unwraps my hands. There’s pink patches only on the tips. They’re a little sensitive but I don’t have any trouble using them. He puts them on a scanner and they’re a 99.8% match for Parker’s. I’m discharged and check into a hotel not far from Parker’s home. 

I spend another afternoon watching the feeds and keeping up with Parker. The moment I’ve been waiting for happens. Shaun walks into Parker’s office after lunch and shuts the door. He takes a seat and gets a serious look on his face.

“I think I have a small problem ‘Stefan’.” He says, looking at Parker, waiting for a response. 

“What is it Shaun?”

He tries again. “Stefan?”

Parker looks at him oddly. “Spit it out.”

“Ahh never mind, I’ll handle it.” He stands up, shakes his head and leaves. 

I pick up the phone and call Parker to check in.

He greets me oddly. “Hey man, how’s Detroit?”

“Great, I’m having a great time, although Detroit is kinda trashy. How does it feel being back to work?”

“Ah challenging. Step away for a few weeks and there’s a ton of changes. From what I see though, you did a great job covering for me.”

“Ready for Chris tonight?”

“Yeah, we talked last night for an hour. Between your text messages and what you told me, I’m ready for a great night.”

“His penthouse is sweet. Are you going to spend the night? I did, then got into office early and borrowed one of the outfits in your closet.”

“Yeah, I need to spend more time here anyway, so work late, then dinner, then sex.” He’s excited about getting laid for the first time in weeks. I give him details about Chris’ home so he knows the basics.

“Hey, I need to get this call.” I pretend to get another call. 

AUTHENTICATION

This will work out great for tonight. I take an Uber to Parker’s place and make myself at home. ‘It’s good to be home.’ I think to myself as I walk in the door. From my burner phone I call Shaun. He answers unsure of who’s calling.

“Bro, how’s your new CEO?”

“Parker?” He questions.

“Surprise!” I laugh. 

“I knew it, your scumbag brother is in your office. I can see him and he’s not on a phone.”

“How is he doing? He called me asking about you calling him Stefan so I assumed the gig was up.”

“Honestly, he seems okay at filling in for you, work wise.”

“Yeah, he’s calling me ever 5 minutes for advice.”

“What’s going on? Why is he in your office and not you?”

“Long story but this started Saturday night. Please don’t tell him you know, let him play me. There’s no major events on my calendar for him to fuck up.”

“Fine, I’ll do that for you but I’d love to rub it in his face that he didn’t get away with it.”

“Calm down, just a harmless prank and I needed some time off for me.”

“You’re home?”

“Yeah, thinking of happy hour though at Brewser’s” 

“Tell you what, I’ll meet you there.” He’s happy to be talking to his best friend. 

I run up to his bedroom and get ready for happy hour. Parker is in my favorite suit, but this Parker will be more casual. In the shower I check out my fingers. They’re still a little tender as I use them to work pomade into my hair but the redness is mostly gone. 

For a dressy casual outfit, I put together an outfit that screams Parker. It’s a gray glen plaid Tom Ford Bespoke that looked good on him in some Instagram posts. I add a vest and pocket square as is ‘my’ style now. On his dresser is his Omega watch he normally wears. From his jewelry chest, I add some wristbands and snag a pair of sunglasses. I stare in the mirror and smile, knowing tonight I’ll confirm my identity to Shaun. 

I jump in my 911 Targa, get to Brewser’s early and text Shaun that I’m in a corner booth. I’m the epitome of Parker in a stunning outfit, sipping cabernet sauvignon, eating his appetizer and fixated on my phone. He joins me 30 minutes later, plopping his ass across from me. 

“I knew it! I knew right away Monday morning he wasn’t you when I looked at him. His hair was different than your’s. He denied getting a haircut, not knowing you just had a haircut last week. The funny thing was that ‘your’ hair grew back from Saturday, especially on the sides ‘Stefan’.” He stresses the Stefan on purpose.

“Really? You can’t tell the difference? Wasn’t he still in my office when you left?”

“Yes someone was there, and he couldn’t have changed and beat me here but just humor me.”

I brush my hand through my hair. “Got that?”  Then I stand up, pull my pant leg up and twist my leg towards him. “Satisfied?”

“You wouldn’t believe the thoughts I had, wondering if something nefarious happened to you. That you were locked up in a prison like ‘Man in the Iron Mask’.” 

“Oh come on, it was just a little prank.” I laugh, sit back down, fix my cuff and sip my wine. “Ha, After his attitude towards you Saturday, he’s lucky you don’t have him locked up, with my help.”

“I got home Sunday night and he had gotten a cheap hair cut and cleaned himself up. He started in on how he could fool you easily. In leu of the $5m agreement, I made him a $2.5m bet he couldn’t, and was sworn to secrecy. It ends tomorrow. I’m… we’re going to let him win. Got it?”

“Why?”

“Because it saves me $2.5m. He wasn’t happy about me reneging on the $5m and siding with you. I told him I had my doubts he could be me, so to prove you and me wrong, he challenged me.”

“You’re always a pushover. The more time I spent with him, the more I could see the differences.”

“Like what?” I’m curious how he can tell.

“Well, the hair was the first giveaway, the scar but that’s hard to see. Oh your teeth are always whiter. He probably didn’t have good dental care in prison.” He laughs at his put down. “What confirmed it for me was today with ‘Stefan’ and he was clueless, oh and I mentioned about tapping Mel and he gave me another clueless look.”

Internally, I’m laughing at him. “Just put up with him for another day. Pretend he’s me. I might as well be there, since he’s calling me constantly, asking what to do. When he called, asking why you were using my middle name, I figured you caught on to our game. That’s why I called.”

“Yeah, he also didn’t know what you did for Peterson-Engles, which still stuns me with its simplicity. A lot of little things didn’t add up.”

“And you were worried about him trying something.” I laugh. “One, he wouldn’t do it because he’d have to work, put ‘goo’ in his hair and wear a tie. Two, you figured it out in a day. It’s not that easy to take over someone else’s life, I would imagine.”

“And he’s a bit rough around the edges. You like wine, he drinks beer. You carry yourself very professionally, you’re more uptight. I noticed that after you gave up the Zoloft.”

“You think anyone else noticed?”

“I doubt it. I know you better than anyone, plus I knew about Paul.”

“Great, then I’m taking a vacation day tomorrow as planned. Keep an eye on him but please don’t blow his cover, it’s just one more day. I’m fine with paying him. Turns out he only has $1 million stashed from his Ponzi scheme. He actually logged into his Cayman bank account and showed me. He’s converting it to Crypto.”

“So how long is he going to live with you?”

“He’s moving to Seattle on Friday, moving in with his ex, starting over. That’s his plan.”

“Great, New York doesn’t need two of you running around he jokes.”

“Just play along one more day, promise me.”

“Bro, I’ll do it, promise.”

We’re there for over an hour talking, drinking and eating junk food. When Susan calls, he leaves with his tail between his leg. I stay to finish my drink. I’m the personification of Parker Thomas. My best friend has no doubt I’m Parker. A check of my clone iPhone shows my imposter leaving my office at 6, and texting my boyfriend for drinks and dinner at Bailey’s Pub in SoHo. I drive my 911 Targa home to prep for tomorrow.

IDENTITY SWAP

I’m up early per Parker’s routine, hit up the gym then a coffee shop for breakfast. I head back to Dr. Harris’ office to have my fingerprints checked and make plans for later. He’s thrilled with the results then I ask him for some additional help with drugs to keep someone knocked out. I leave with a few options, my favorite is a liquid GHB to add to his wine. 

Back at my future home, I use the GHB and taint his bottle of wine he’ll finish off later today. He’s a creature of habit and almost every night he walks in the door, grabs his mail to open while having wine. I’m counting on him being exhausted from last night and in need of a drink when he walks in the door. 

I start catching up with his videos. He gets into the office at 7am, hours early. It’s a walk of shame as he enters his closet and changes into a different suit. He left the office for over an hour.  Based on a spending notification on iPhone, he went for breakfast down the street. 

After lunch, Parker calls my burner phone.

“Hey Bro, how is your boyfriend?” I laugh at my joke knowing I’m getting him back in a few hours.

“You can pick them. I may keep him. I’m ready to go to bed right now. I’m exhausted, and barely slept.”

“He’s all your’s.” He won’t touch him again, I’m the Parker who charmed him at Pronto and fucked him first.

“We took turns fucking each other, I fucked him twice and vice versa.” 

“Are you back in the swing of things at work?”

“Not today, after last night, my ass is dragging. Plus, you miss a month of work and it feels more like a year. By next week, I think I’ll be back to normal. I was thinking of something else….” 

“What’s that?”

“Next time I go to take a real vacation, I may use you to cover for me. It would be incredible to take weeks off without falling behind.”

“That could be possible if I’m around at the time.”

“You’re getting back Sunday?”

“I may try for Friday, Detroit is a depressing place.”

“Okay, I see you whenever you get back. I’m taking my boyfriend out for dinner then he wants to go dancing at Backstreet on Saturday.”

“You dancing?” I love the thought of doing that.

“Only because you suggested it to him. Okay gotta get to my staff meeting.”

I’m watching him leave his office and a minute later enter the executive conference room. He’s the last one in but no one complains. He covers the action items from last week while I take note for next week’s. It’s full of reports from different departments. Unlike my staff meeting, Parker defers to Shaun on a lot of the issues. He was too busy talking to me to read through last week’s minutes. This can only  reinforce to Shaun that he’s sitting next to an imposter.

The minute the meeting is over, Parker returns to his office and starts packing to leave. He packs files and his portfolio into his briefcase. He grabs his suit from the closet then head out the door. I see him saying something to Jenny. On the camera in Shaun’s office, I watch him paying attention to the exchange.

It’ll take Parker about an hour to get home. I’ve tainted every open bottle of wine in his cooler. Half a glass of wine should be enough to knock him out. I go upstairs to a spare bedroom, waiting for him to pull in. Right on time, I see him pulling up. The bedroom door is cracked so I can hear him.  The door from the garage opens, there’s footsteps across the marble kitchen floor then steps to front door for the mail. The footsteps come back and I hear the door to the wine cooler open. When I hear a bottle being set on the granite countertop, I know he’ll be taking his nap soon. I hear a few envelopes being ripped open, then silence. 

After waiting 30 minutes, I quietly walk down the stairs and see ‘Paul’ passed out at his kitchen island. I walk up to him, lift up his hand and get no reaction. I lift him off the stool and drag him over to the sofa. After all that, he didn’t wake up or say anything. I take a needle that Dr. Harris provide and inject him with another drug that should keep him out for 24 hours. 

I call Dr. Harris and arrange to have Paul picked up in an hour. It gives me time to strip him, dress him and take over. I strip him, then dress him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. I run upstairs and put on a pair of my ‘dressy’ jeans and casual knit shirt. Back downstairs I remove his class ring and permanently add it to my finger. I take off the Tag watch, wristbands and shove them in my pocket.

I’m now Parker Thomas to the world. I pick up my phone and call my best friend.

He answers bluntly. “Give me good news Stefan.”

I put him on video and run my hand through hair. “Are we done with this? He just left but he seemed upset. Did something happen at work? Did you confront him?”

“No, but he did seem out of it, most of the day and looked like shit.”

“Good, he deserves it. The slut went to the Manhole and probably closed the place. Who know how many guys he gave my phone number to.”

“Just tell me you’ll be you tomorrow.”

“Yes, and you’ll be able to tell, right?”

“I wanna see the scar.”

“Who’s the CEO and who’s the President.” I’ve heard Parker remind Shaun a few times. Now I own it.

IN CHARGE

A plain white van shows up, two men in emergency medic outfits help him into the van and he’s out of my life. I’m on a high as I watch the van pull out of my driveway then turn around and collapse against the door. I look around ‘my’ house, it’s all mine, I’m Parker Stefan Thomas. This is fucking incredible but I no longer curse like a sailor, I’m now Parker and I rarely curse. I head to the kitchen, empty the open wine bottle down the sink and rinse out the glass with scolding hot water. I grab a new bottle and use the new glass to continue Parker’s evening. I finish going thru my mail but its mostly junk. 

I gather up my suit from today, yesterday’s suit and other clothes from the living room and head upstairs. I toss everything on my bed then head to my spare bedroom for my clone iPhone and burner phone. I remove the SIM cards, crush the burner under my loafer, the iPhone will be a spare.  All I need is my iPhone.

‘My’ ex Colin calls, I think I’m still in love with him, would love to fuck him for old times sake. 

“Hey, Colin.” I greet him.   

“Parker, what you up to?”

“Just home, relaxing with a glass of wine.” The perfect Parker response.

“We’re heading to Pronto for dinner, about 7:30 if you want to join us?” 

“Sure, I haven’t eaten yet. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

It’s a little after 6pm, giving me an hour to clean up this mess. I toss the suits in the hamper for Annie to take care of, put the shoes and ties back in my closet. From my pockets, I take out the wristbands and watch and return them to my jewelry chest. 

I jump in the shower and use all my standard product to provide my usual scent. I’m standing naked in my closet taking in my wardrobe. Instead of checking my Instagram for what to wear, I’ll select my own. This is my closet, full of my personal style. I grab a pair of my Calvin Klein boxer briefs and slip them on.  I adjust my penis and love knowing I’m not sharing my clothes with anyone ever again. 

I’ve always like black and grays colors because of my jet black hair and darker complexion. My closet reflects this and my love of classic style clothes. My new favorite color is blue with gray a close second. I’m like a kid in a candy store—inspecting my suits, pulling coats off the hanger and trying them on. There’s too many of them to pick from, I love them all. 

I turn to my sport coats and roughly guess I have another 30-40 to pick from. Again, I’m trying on ones the catch my eye then checking myself out in front of the floor to ceiling mirror at the end of the closet. Across from the sport coats are double rows of dress, casual and knit shirts. A few have the sleeves rolled up, letting me know I’ve worn them briefly and hung them up. One catches my eye, a black linen shirt.  I pull it off the hanger, note the Hugo Boss label and pull it on. It’s fitted to hug my body. I button it up and love how it fits and feels. I’ve found ‘the’ shirt for a night out with friends. ‘Now I just need pants and a coat.’ I chuckle to myself. 

Parker, I mean ‘I’m’ not a fan of jeans, sometimes wear them with a sport coat and vest but more often a nice suit with or without a tie. My closet is full of every color and style of suits imaginable, though there is a strong blue and charcoal preference. For a night with friends, a lighter gray suit grabs my attention. I feel the material and check the label—Nice, worsted wool, Tom Ford. I step into the pants noticing that the fit is perfect. I then unroll my sleeves and pull on the suit coat. ‘Yeah, this is perfect for dinner at Pronto. It’s not too showy but very classic.’ I think to myself. For shoes I go with my black suede loafers that I  favor. 

I add my class ring, usual Omega watch and a few wristbands for a casual flair. With my wallet, keys and iPhone tucked in my suit, I head to the mirror and check myself. Parker Thomas is ready for a night out with his friends. I button my suit coat, adjust my sleeves and runs my hand through my hair.  My identity is perfect. 

“Colin, Jeff, how are you guys?” I smile at my refection, knowing I look and sound just like Parker. I run downstairs, take a sip of my wine, grab a winter coat and jump into my Porsche 911 Targa. I get there late due to too many wardrobe choices. My friends spot me walking in and wave me over. Jeff talks about how well Oklahoma is doing. Colin talks about students and planning a ski trip to Killington for New Years. I fill them in on my boyfriend and how well that’s going. It’s a fun time and need break for me.  We don’t stay long and I’m home by 9:30. The night was a major personal success.  

THE ONLY CEO

I wake up early, excited to get to work and take my rightful position as CEO of Thomas Financial. First a hit up the gym and keep my appointment with my trainer. Back home I know exactly what Parker Thomas will be wearing—his favorite three piece Garrison Bespoke  gray suit, white button down shirt and tight pattern navy tie. It’s a great look on me based on some  Instagram post. 

I beat everyone in, including Jenny. I make my own coffee and greet workers as they come in. I take off my coat and suit coat, and take my throne. Jenny is shocked to see me in so early.

“Parker, you’re in early and look much better than yesterday.”

“Yeah, I just needed a good night’s sleep. I’m feeling great today. How was your evening? Any surprises when you got home from Lucy?” I take the conversation in a personal direction, asking about her puppy. 

“Nope, it’s been a week without any accidents. Crating her seems to be helping.” She looks down at my coffee. “Let me get settled in and I’ll bring your fresh coffee.”

“Take your time, It still hot.”

She leaves and I start catching up on my emails and voice message. I check reports from my staff, then our corporate dashboard. If our projections hold out, it’ll be another record year of bonuses for me. Not that I need it—my house is paid off, just like my toys. My biggest expense is my custom suits and wardrobe. Paying Dr. Harris and others to take care of my loose ends is coming out of my Cayman account, not my new personal net worth.

I didn’t see Shaun arriving at the office and he startles me when he walks in and shuts the door.

“Hey Bro!” He strolls in carrying a cup of coffee and makes himself at home like any other day. “Wow, you look great today, like a totally new man. You even got a haircut, your hair is shorter on the sides than yesterday ‘Stefan’.”

“Please, stop that, I’m not raking my hair any more.” My phone dings with a message from Chris. “Hey, move ahead on the Greenfrog financing.”

“I did that yesterday as soon as you gave me approval Parker.” He smirks at me.

“No, really? ‘I’ did that? Without checking with myself.” I roll my eyes in disbelief. 

“I assumed you did after our drinks the other night.”

“No, I’m scared now—what else did ‘I’ do the last few days?”

“Guess it wasn’t the best idea to prank me.” He snickers.

“Yeah, but he’s leaving today.”

“Thought he was leaving last Friday.”

“No, I changed his plans when he pissed me off. He went to Pronto, made out with some stranger as me and brought the trick home. He thought it was funny. I told him it’d be best if he left today, we exchanged some choice words and he agreed.”

“Did this trick see the both of you?”

“No, Paul woke me up, told me he had company and to wait 30 minutes to leave my bedroom. I heard them talking, heard the trick thanking ‘Parker’ for a great time and to call him. I didn’t even see the guy.”

“So this stranger will be calling?” Shaun sounds worried.

“No, he has Paul’s phone number but he knows where I live. It really pissed me off and why did he use my name?”

“I told you he was trouble, but you didn’t listen. You had to waste your money, bail his sorry ass out and then you didn’t need him.”

“Well, live and learn.” Another Parker adage that now belongs to me. “So we have lunch today with Mosser and company. We’re set with the latest numbers?”

“Yeah, I’ll send them to you in a minute.”

The day flies by without any problems for the new Parker. Just before leaving office, Dr. Harris calls me to let me know everything is taken care of. ‘Paul’ has been moved to a secure location and kept sedated. 

THE NEW PAUL

I pass on happy hour with my team, claiming a date with Chris. I get to Dr. Harris’ facility late in the day and sit down with the doctor before seeing ‘Paul’. 

“How is Paul doing Dr. Harris?”

“He’s alert and demanding to know what happened and where he is. His prints are 99% there, we added the filling to his mouth. We haven’t said a word to him at all. It’s driving him mad.”

“Great, I want to talk to him before the next step.”

“Sure, I just checked on him. We have him handcuffed for everyone’s safety.”

I’m lead to a part of the facility where I’ve never been. It’s in the basement and reminds me of Brookhaven with solid steel doors, cameras and bars. I walk in and ‘Paul’ is laying in bed facing away from the door. 

“Ahem, How you doing Paul?”

He flips around instantly. “What the fuck is going on?”

“It should be obvious. I’m now Parker Stefan Thomas, you’re Paul Steven Thomas.” I walk in further and he stares up and down at me. 

“You think you can be me? Step into my life?” He laughs at me.

“I don’t think it Paul, I know it. I knew it the first night out of Brookhaven when I assumed your identity.”

He looks at me confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You took your pathetic drugs and I put you to bed while Shaun was grabbing dinner. I borrowed your identity, clothes, fixed my hair and had dinner with Shaun as you. He was clueless but so useful. He complained that he couldn’t tell us apart so we came up with test that you failed on Tuesday, proving my identity as Parker to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you didn’t respond correctly to Shaun’s questioning ‘Stefan’ the other day, you proved your identity as Paul to him. After six weeks as you, I’m totally in place as you. The drugs and PTSD were great cover, then ‘my’ recovery and not needing the Refuge left me step easily into your life. When Shaun said to me ‘You’re back to your old self’, I knew I nailed your pompous, attitude. 

“He’ll figure this out.”

“Bro, are you looking at me?”

“So what, you’re wearing my clothes, that doesn’t make you me.”

“You’re right, it’s just one part—you made me you. Your coaching helped a lot but I also added some cameras to Thomas Financial and cloned your iPhone. When you went to California, using my identity to hide your illness, that prepped me for becoming CEO of Financial.”

“What about all this?” He gestures to the room?

“Oh, needed to change some details.”

“Details?”

“I have your fingerprints, you have mine, along with a fixed cavity. Physically, you’re now me.”

He looks at his fingers. “That’s why they’re tender and red?”

“It’s state of the art technology. Oh, and 3D printing removed my cavity and rebuilt my tooth like new. Technology is amazing.”

“Acting like me will be another story.” He challenges me.

“Give me a break, I’ve known you all your life. I also put cameras in your office, Shaun’s and in the conference rooms. I know how you conduct meetings, your mannerisms, attitudes and all the little personal issues like Jenny’s puppy potty training. I found the videos from the last 12 board meetings. They’re quite fascinating and educational. No one notice their new CEO at the last board meeting.”

“And you think I’m just going to go along with this, let you have my life?”

“Paul—“

“Stop that, you’re Paul.” ‘Paul’ yells interrupts me hysterically.

“You’re delusional still. The Refuge didn’t really help, did it? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.  Doctor Gehris has found a facility that’ll take great care of you. They’re not equipped to help you here. Don’t worry about the cost, I’ll pay for everything.”

“Doctor Gehris? Who the fuck is he.

“Oh Paul.” I sadly moan. “He’s your psychologist you’ve been seeing since I got you out of jail. That’s why I spent $225,000 to spring you early. Don’t worry, we have your medical records highlighting your delusion of being me, assuming my trauma of the car jacking. We also have a great drug that’ll help you forget those painful memories and delusions.”

“Paul, you can’t do this. You won’t get away with it.”

“It’s been 6 weeks of being Parker Thomas and no one has picked up on it, not even ‘my’ best friend Shaun. You’re never getting your life back—I’m Parker, you’re Paul. Accept it. Sorry I can’t stay but I’m hungry, going to grab a bite. Not sure when I’ll see you again but have a great life, I’m sure I will.”

Days later, Paul is admitted into a mental facility. A fake Facebook page is set up for him, showing him in Seattle, living his life and happy. I admit to Shaun that I paid him some money to get rid of him, that I won’t be reaching out to him in a while. Shaun warns me he’ll be back for more money eventually. Thomas Financial is thriving under the same management its had for years—Parker Thomas, CEO.

[messedup15yearold]

HOW THE GLOBAL PANDEMIC RUINED ME

The global malaise of the Covid-19 virus had a huge impact on the students’ mental, physical and also social health. When you look back 2 years you see a different yourself that has undergone many changes, both positive and negative. Hi I am currently a 15-year-old messed up teenage girl who is trying. So, here’s me writing how the global pandemic ruined those crucial years of development and growth. (I was 12 when this started)

As you grow up your challenges and responsibilities increase and so one must step out of that comfort zone to have a better approach towards them but the pandemic in some subtle ways refrained us to do so. I remember walking out of the school premises on the last academic day of grade 8 all set and excited for summer holidays but little did I know what’s going to struck on us. Back then if you told me I wouldn’t be going to school for 2 years I would have considered you a drop-dead idiot but now it is all real.  

Back in grade 8th I was academically excellent, I used to get great grades on all my tests and exams basically I was the ideal student. I was both mentally and physically actively involved in everything and use to participate in every competition which tells I was not afraid of public speaking and did not have social anxiety. Well, the tables have completely turned in these 2 years. How? Let’s start.

Firstly, the online mode of education really messed my academics. There were two types of students, one that actually took the online classes seriously and genuinely attended them and at least gained some knowledge and ethically continued with their studies. Then there’s the type two or me, initially I was invested in this new way of education, that period lasted for around 1 month to be precise but then gradually I got distracted, I lost my focus, I lost my will and I lost it, Here goes the story downhill.

I did log into classes but then minimised the skin and continued scrolling through reels or playing the trending game of those times, among us. This was the start, eventually I stopped self-studying and doing any productive things I used to do. I stopped dancing, painting, cooking, writing and every other good stuff I used to so back then. Then I saw my peers doing great in academics and participating in several debates, basically building themselves. I started comparing them to myself, I envied how well they were leading their lives. This just gave the kick start to my inferiority complex which just increased gradually.

They used to complete all their assignments and I was just sitting there under the pile of unfinished projects still doing nothing. I saw them actively participating in the classes, talking to the teachers and expressing themselves whereas I remember teachers calling my name repeatedly trying to get me to respond but I was (am) so scared to talk I was scared of them, how tall they stood whereas I just cocooned myself in my comfort zone. That ruined my great student reputation in front of all my teachers and peers. This was not all.

Then came the quarantine period I got diagnosed with corona virus which further gave a hit. I lost all the connections with my friends was all alone and lonely for that 1 month. Further I also cut the left out strings and completely abandoned myself from everything. This was when i gradually fell into the never ending deep dark hole of depression. I was so lost in it I hurt myself physically and mentally to this extent that I considered committing a suicide which thankfully failed. That was the wakeup call. I asked my parents for the help and with their and miss honey's (CBT therapist) support I crawled out of it after almost 8 months of suffering. My therapy continued because I was now deeply negatively tied to my thoughts.

I was now socially anxious, restless all the time, still mentally unhealthy, scared of public interactions, awkward and weird, and weak. I used to have nightmares and panic attacks (I still have them sometimes)

I left school campus as a 8th grader and tomorrow was the day I re-enter as a 10th grader. It was horrible, I was scared of people, my own friends, I messed up every conversation and every single time somehow managed to embarrass myself in front of people because of my serious social anxiety. People were judging me and I considered myself so inferior and lower to them. My grades degraded from A+ to C and I was completely embarrassed.

But now I am better and so will everyone be. Keep trying thus shall not break us apart. We fall but stand back stronger and taller than everyone

love,

some messed up teenager

[media-on-the-mind101]

Turtles All the Way Down: OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Book)

* May contain spoilers*

I recently finished reading Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, and it is now one of my favorite novels. The story hit me close to home because it deals with a disorder that I was diagnosed with. I thought writing an article about it would be a good way to educate you readers, while also sharing a little bit about myself.

Turtles All the Way Down is story about a teenage girl named Aza Holmes who suffers from OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The story shows how the disorder impacts her daily life as well as her relationships. Because the author suffers from the disorder in real life, the depiction is fairly accurate. However, I spotted a few things that might suggest a whole different diagnosis whatsoever. The story also covers Aza’s treatment which I felt was missing a lot of important things.

According to the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder where a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger distressing feelings, while compulsions are repetitive behaviors that are performed to relieve anxiety or prevent something bad from happening. OCD is often confused with OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) which is characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. OCPD is often portrayed as OCD in the media which means that stereotypical OCD is really OCPD.

While Aza does have obsessions that involve cleaning, they are more about health and less about being organized. People with OCD often have a specific thing they worry about, and for Aza it is contracting an infection from a parasite called C-diff which essentially causes food poisoning and stomach damage. While she doesn’t really do anything to neutralize or cancel her thoughts out, she repeatedly reads articles online and uses hand sanitizer to relieve her anxiety.

As you may already have figured out, people with OCD often have illogical thought patterns and they are fully aware of it. But their anxiety makes them perform their compulsion anyway “just to make sure.” This is seen in the book when Aza drinks a bottle of hand sanitizer to insure that all bad bacteria inside her body are cured. Of course we all know, that drinking hand sanitizer would actually be more harmful then helpful.

“Drinking hand sanitizer is not going to make you healthier, you crazy fuck. But they can talk to your brain. THEY can tell your brain what to think, and you can’t. So, who’s running the show? Stop it, please (pg. 210).

In this scene, Aza knows that drinking hand sanitizer is actually more harmful then helpful, but she feels as if something is controlling her brain. The “they” refers to her OCD and she tells it to stop but isn’t able to control it.

While reading the book, I noticed that some of Aza’s symptoms don’t quite fit the diagnosis of OCD, such as her feeling of not knowing if she is awake or dreaming, real or non-existent. In one chapter she says the following:

“the pressing of my thumbnail against my fingertip had started off as a way of convincing myself that I was real . . . every time I thought maybe I wasn’t real, I would dig my nail into my fingertip, and I would feel the pain, and for a second I’d think, Of course I’m real” (pg.106).

The feeling of disconnect she has from her own body and surroundings are actually symptoms of DDD (Depersonalization - Derealization Disorder). According to the DSM, the disorder is characterized by persistent feelings of being a stranger to yourself or your surroundings. According to Psychology Today, however, you have to have no signs of other mental illness that can explain your symptoms, in order to be diagnosed with DDD. This is when diagnosing a patient becomes challenging; so many disorders can have similar symptoms or be co-morbid with each other that it they can difficult to differentiate.

The other symptom I noticed that is actually its own disorder, is the fact that Aza has a habit of digging her nail into her fingertip to the point where her finger becomes scarred. While picking of the skin is often comorbid with OCD, it is actually a separate disorder called excoriation disorder or dermatillomania. According to mhanational.org, this disorder is characterized by picking of the skin that creates skin lesions and that causes disruption in everyday life. It is true that the disorder falls under the category of obsessive compulsive disorders in the DSM, but excoriation disorder is not the same as OCD.

Now we’ve defined what OCD is, but another important part of how the book portrays it is in the treatment. According to Mayoclinic.com, the most common treatments for OCD include CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), exposure therapy, and medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors). These are the treatments that I had during my childhood, and they have been statistically proven to be very effective. 

In the book Aza sees a therapist and takes medication, but she doesn’t get exposure therapy, one of the main treatments for OCD. Aza mainly gets CBT which is essentially talk therapy, but she is not forced to face her obsessions without performing her compulsions. An example of this would be touching a dirty substance and then forcing herself not to take out her phone or use hand sanitizer. 

The last important thing is how OCD effects a peoples relationships. Throughout the story, the characters in Aza’s life talk about how hard she is to deal with. One scene toward the end really emphasizes the importance of this issue. In this scene, Aza and her best friend Daisy get into an argument because Daisy feels that Aza is too self-centered.

She says “and you’re so, like, pathologically uncurious that you don’t even know what you don’t know.” And later she adds “I don’t mean that you’re a bad friend or anything. But you’re slightly tortured, and the way you’re tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you”(pg. 216).

Daisy is frustrated because she feels like Aza is so caught up in her own thoughts that she never shows any interest in the lives of others. When she says Aza is “tortured” and it makes it painful for everyone around her, this shows just how much her illness impacts her relationships with other people. Basically, people find her difficult to be around because they, in a sense, have to experience everything with her and they begin to lose patience. At the end of this scene, the two girls get into a car accident because they weren’t paying attention to the road.

Aza’s other important relationship in the story is with is Davis, who is like a friend with benefits. The reason he never becomes Aza’s boyfriend is because of her social anxiety and fear of contamination that prevents her from being physically close to people. 

“I enjoyed being with him more in this nonphysical space, but I also felt the need to board up the windows of myself. Me: I feel kinda precarious in general, and I can’t really date you. Or date anyone. I’m sorry but I can’t. I like you, but I can’t date you” (pg. 162).

I this scene, Aza reveals that she communicates better online then in person and this suggests that she has some form of social anxiety.

Another scene tells us just how much her fear of germs effects her life: “billions of people kiss and don’t die just make sure his microbes aren’t going to permanently colonize you come on please stop this . . . then you’ll get C. diff and boom dead in four days please fucking stop just kiss him JUST CHECK TO MAKE SURE. I pulled away” (pg. 152).

In this scene, Aza has difficulty being physically intimate with Davis because her fear of germs prevents from enjoying it like most people would. Based on this fact, we could predict that Aza will have difficulty in her future relationships because of her mental illness and this is a great example of how it effects people in real life.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, the author John Green himself suffers from OCD. Compared to his own experiences, the book is pretty similar. Like the main character, Green suffers from obsessions about contamination. In an episode of the Vlogbrothers Youtube channel, Green explains that

 “I might worry out of nowhere that my food is contaminated or somehow poisoned and then somehow suddenly that will be the only thought I'm able to think . . . I can lose all control over my thoughts for an extended period of time to the extent that I can't follow what's happening in a TV show or read a book.” (Green).

*John Green, author of Turtles All the Way Down*

So like Aza, he worries about contamination to the point where he can’t focus on anything else. He also has the same kinds of thought spirals :  

“the compulsive behaviors I use to cope with these obsessive thought spirals, repeatedly checking my food for contamination, for instance, or spending hours Googling what will happen to me if I eat moldy bread.” (Green).

As you can see, the characters compulsion of checking in internet comes straight from the author’s real life experience. According to the New York Times, John Green developed the disorder at around seven years old and eventually got it under control with the right medication and CBT. It was not said weather or not he underwent exposure therapy. So the treatment that Aza receives is based on the way some treatments work in real life.

While reading Turtles All the Way Down I  often found myself feeling nostalgic because my own experience with OCD is very similar. Although I do not have an obsession with a specific thing like Aza does, I have the same types of intrusive thoughts. I also have similar compulsions to seek reassurance from the internet or other people about my health, as well as other compulsions to neutralize, or cancel out my thoughts. 

Because I had Tourette Syndrome (a neurological disorder that causes physical impulses) as a child, I developed what is called Tourettic OCD. It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like; Tourette Syndrome and OCD combined. The reason this occurs in some individuals is because the ability to filter out and thoughts and the impulse to move, take place in the same brain area, the basal ganglia. As a result of this, my compulsions tend to be more physical, such as moving my eyes excessively whenever I see negative words in a book, or someone getting sick in a movie.

Like Aza, I went through CBT but I also went through several years of exposure therapy and I take an SSRI in conjunction. I think exposure therapy is a very important part of the treatment of disorders such as OCD and PTSD and I was disappointed that the book did not include it. I think that if you are going to educate a person about disorder, then you have to educate them about the treatment as well. In conclusion, Turtles All the Way Down was a great novel that captured OCD more accurately then any movie I have seen. The fact that the author has the disorder makes it all the more realistic and personal, and I have to say as a person with OCD and a psychology major, I was quite pleased with the way the character was portrayed. The story may have been missing a few important elements but overall it provided a realistic way of educating people about the disorder.

[statticscribbles]

Stone Snake

Summary: My take on Kurtz’s backstory

It’s Fangs who brings up Kurtz’s behavior, how they’d been talking, Kurtz antagonizing them before he’d just stopped for thirty seconds, frozen before he continued, his words slurred slightly. Jughead brushes it off as a slightly too much Fizzle Rocks, but when Sweet Pea says the same thing twice later that week he makes a point of confronting Kurtz; well trying to but he finds Kurtz out for the next two days.

When he shows back up he looks worryingly sick to Jughead. The normally wide alert eyes he has are half closed and glassy. His entire body looks like he’s about to fall over, partially from his own weight and the overall exhaustion that causes him to drag himself into the chair and close his eyes leaning back. Even when Fangs quips how he looks like he’s going to be dragged to hell with all his slouching he doesn’t do more that offer a sleepy chuckle. When he gets up to change classes and his arm jerks outward almost hitting Toni; the rest of the Serpents tense waiting for a fight.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he mumbles before he slips out into the rushing hallway. The Serpents are left confused and Toni doesn’t say anything when he asks if she said something to bother Kurtz.

Jughead watches him at lunch, how his head droops against his shoulder as he curls into the armchair, folding over himself and wincing as he digs through his bag, pulling out a pair of dark sunglasses to cover his eyes. “Kurtz.” He tilts his head up to Jughead who stands over him. “Yes?” Jughead sighs nervous at the lack of fight in Kurtz for the past few days. “You okay?” Kurtz lowers the sunglasses; Jughead notes he looks confused chewing his lip before nodding. “Yes, just stress.” He states, almost questioning himself but Jughead lets it go for as long as it takes Kurtz to stand. It’s no longer let go when Kurtz is walking from the student lounge and his leg gives out from under him. Jughead hears the gasp he sucks in as he falls, stumbling up as if nothing happened, hand digging into the back of his head as he steady’s himself.

“Betty.” Jughead speaks to get her attention and she watches as he sits down next to her. “What’s in Kurtz’s file?” Betty shoots him a confused look. “Besides the criminal activity? I’d assume not much, why?” Jughead shakes his head. “Something’s wrong with him, besides the Fizzle Rocks and G&G issues. I need to know what it is, despite everything he’s still a Serpent.” Betty nods retreating from the student lounge. It takes her fifteen minutes before she returns holding a thin file. “This is it?” She nods scowling as he flicks it open. “C. Kurtz Walters.” Betty speaks but Jughead’s already read down the page scowling. “Of course he’s from there.” Betty skims the rest of the page to find what’s annoyed Jughead, at the bottom of the page written almost as a footnote.

-Request records from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. - They both look at each other and they know exactly where they’ll be spending their weekend. “You can’t just ask him?” Betty questions in their last class. Jughead shakes his head. “I don’t even know if he’s ever given me a straight answer, better to gather more information before asking.” He shrugs as he tugs his jacket on after the bell rings.

They call on Sister Woodhouse directly, she does little to hide her disgust and annoyance at them showing up. “What do you two want now?” “Our friend, Kurtz. He grew up here, we wanted to get his records for the school to have.” Sister Woodhouse raises an eyebrow as she sits behind her desk. “Why can’t the school request it then? And why you two?” Betty smiles tightly and hands over a folded piece of paper. They wait as she reads it, Sister Woodhouse passing it back to Betty nodding.

“Follow me.” She leads them down a corridor and into a small room filled with filing cabinets. “His name?” “Kurtz, Walters.” Jughead states. “Kurtz?” Sister Woodhouse frowns eyes darting back and forth as if searching for something. “Oh you mean Conrad, such a good boy.” Betty’s eyes dart to Jughead who rolls his, before pulling a half blurred photo he’d manage to get of Kurtz. He shows it to Sister Woodhouse, and she smiles.

“Oh that’s definitely Conrad, wild little boy he was, always wanted to play. Hated camera’s; still does if that’s the best photo you have of him, still unmistakable.” “He hates camera’s?” Betty probes and Sister Woodhouse nods holding the identification photo up, one of the other boy’s is holding Kurtz back, his arms restrained and his eyes wide and fearful. “It was really the flash he hated. Something about those bright lights scared him.” Betty nods hovering her phone to take photos of his files. Sister Woodhouse retreats from watching them to scold one of the children who are peeking in the door. Betty frowns putting her phone away and sliding the file between two of the books in her bag next to the letter her mother forged. Her and Jughead are in his trailer reading over the file.

Name: Conrad Kurtz Walters. Gender: Male Age Admitted: Four D.O.B: October 2002 Reason for Admission: Orphan, untreated illness specified as abandonment reason. Symptoms: Hallucinations, nightmares, tremors, anxiety, loss of appetite, crying spells, violent outbursts. “Jug look at this.” He frowns at the paper Betty pulls out. He notes the dates have changed, it seems to make Kurtz around seven when the second half of the page was written. Therapeutic treatments: Grief counseling, aversion correction. Bereavement and CBT therapies considered. Betty shakes her head as he reads. “Not that, this.” She points to the bottom of the page, her body tensing as her eyebrows furrow. Grief counseling: Failed. Aversion Correction: partial success. ECT advised. Jughead turns the page. ECT approved. ECT administered daily. ECT Successful. Patient reports no negative behaviors or coping mechanisms used three days post ECT. Jughead flips through the rest of the file, wincing as he reads out. Patient reported relapse, staff confirmed, resume ECT. ECT administered daily. ECT successful. Patient reports negative coping mechanisms. ECT rescheduled. ECT administered daily for two additional weeks. ECT successful. Treatment concluded. “ECT?” “Electroconvulsive Therapy. Where they shock you, it’s proven useful for treating depression as well as more serious mood disorders when done right.” Jughead reads. “Why would he need- Jug, oh my god.” Betty pulls out more papers, old notes it looks like and her and Jughead read over them.

Conrad was found at four years old, on the Blossom’s grounds. He was unable to say where he came from, or who his family was, traces of sedative were found in his system. It was likely he was being moved from one area to the other. Potentially part of a human trafficking scheme. She flips the page scanning down the next one. Age ten, Conrad reports nightmares of “where dead people live” he refuses to play Gryphons and Gargoyles with the other children. Sister Lila found him in the ‘king chamber’ he refused to leave. Two of the orderlies had to sedate him. He returned to the “king chamber” despite warnings and punishment’s against it. He appears to return after unsuccessful ECT sessions. When questioned about why he was there, he stated he was talking to his father. Conrad refuses to speak during his allotted therapy sessions preferring to draw. He would often draw pictures of the Gargoyle king, these only increased after successful ECT sessions. He would occasionally draw a figure in all black and gray assumed to be his father.

“His father?” Jughead questions and Betty skims the rest of the report. Conrad reports his father lives ‘where the dead people live’ we can assume his father was abusive or neglectful as the nightmares he reports often have him being locked in a closet like room or chained outside. ECT administered daily to correct the negative thoughts. Aversion to bright lights and flashes still present. Conrad shows improvement and a willingness to socialize through G&G. Betty turns.

“Look a medical report.” Conrad experienced a seizure like episode during picture day. He reported waking with a headache, a common excuse to try to stay in bed. After breakfast where he flung his oatmeal across the room twice he reported the headache having gotten worse. After his usually ECT session his speech was slurred and he had trouble standing. He was brought to picture day covering his eyes when he entered the room crying about the flashes hurting him. Two minutes of waiting in line and being exposed to the flashes of the bulbs caused him to loose consciousness and begin mild convulsions that lasted for fifty-seven seconds. When Conrad regained consciousness he was crying apologizing and asking us not to tell his father or to chain him outside. “Chained? Christ no wonder Kurtz is so fucked- Betty.” Jughead’s eyes widen. “What? Jug What?” “Who do we know that lives ‘where dead people do? And has a place to chain someone outside?” Jughead swallows. “Like hot dog.” He prompts at Betty gasps when she connects his prompting.

“Malachai? You think-” Jughead shrugs, before pulling the file back over. “Disregarding that for the moment, he had a seizure, could it be a reoccurring problem? Maybe why he wasn’t adopted out?” Jughead questions and Betty nods in agreement. “Either way you have a lot more facts to go talk to him about.” She kisses his cheek as she leaves and Jughead groans dreading school.

He’s walking through the hallway, noticing Kurtz slumped in one of the chairs again, it’s closest to the door and he doesn’t move when Jughead calls out to him. “Conrad.” Kurtz head whips up and he jerks from the chair huffing as he glares at Jughead. “I have a couple questions for you.” Kurtz nods. “Fire away then.” “I know you were at the Sister’s for years and-“ “From when I was about five till fifteen. You running a story on the ‘therapy’ they do there?” “Why do you say it like-“ Kurtz snorts. “You really think they know what they were doing when they shocked a seven year old with epilepsy?” “Epilepsy?”

“Yeah, the seizures? I’m sure you read about those in my files, not to mention the ones I’ve had earlier in the week. Running low on my meds, and with you throwing out drug runnin’ I’m out a job.” Jughead frowns. “You can’t pay for-“ “You really think I could anyways? You think Mrs. Fogarty can pay for her treatments too? We’re from the Southside Jones, everyone, even the government want us dead; we’re the dog shit on their new shoes. The reminder of mistakes and something taking up space for the nice prison they want to build. It’ll have wonderful windows, I swear.” Kurtz mocks sneering at Jughead. “You want to play havoc in my brain you’ve already been beaten, you’re years late on that one snake, not even my own parents wanted to deal with me or the hallucinations, bet that was in my file to yeah?”

“Yeah it-“ “You wanna know what fucked up my dad so bad he left me in the middle of the forest?” Kurtz snaps squaring up to Jughead. “I had an episode in front of Fred Andrews. I was going to meet my dad for lunch at Pop’s. We were getting burgers it was our thing. Andrews was on lunch break. I don’t know what it was but one second I’m eating the next I’m on the floor screaming. He freaked and my dad, he just sat back and laughed, said for him not to worry. He tried to drive me to the hospital. That idiot he should’a known better than to take somethin’ belonging to my dad. So after Andrews calmed down, he got me a shake, my dad put something in it. I was half awake drugged and out of it from the seizure and he drove me out into the forest and said if I ever came back to him or told anyone he’d keep me out back all the time, not just when I had episodes.” Kurtz sighs letting his head drop as he stares at the floor. “Kurtz.”

“Don’t go saying you’re sorry for me or ‘I didn’t know I wouldn’t’ve-‘ There’s a reason I didn’t let anyone know, reason I didn’t bother anybody. I’m crazy enough most people stay away from that. Guessin’ snakes don’t have that much brain power.” He half laughs as his breathing hitches his leg going out from under him. Jughead automatically wraps an arm around him hoisting him up.

“Come on Kurtz, you’re a snake too, you’re just as dumb as all of us.” Kurtz laughs shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, I have an excuse, I may be dumb as a pile of bricks but it’s cause my brain is fucked up, you’re just dumb.” Jughead huffs. “Oh really, prove it.” He knows its childish, but he’s surprised at how human Kurtz is acting, he justifies his relief as Kurtz being a Serpent, nothing more. “Well you let me join up didn’t you? Point proven.” Jughead laughs shoving him towards the chair he’d stood from before sitting in the chair next to it.

Support My Writing?

[elizawright]

Other Experiences

Interviews with other women with Aspergers

Source: Aspergers Uk Facebook Community

I noticed while being on the group most of the participants were men backing up the statistics that majority of the Aspergers community are male. This backs up my own theory that women find it harder to get diagnosed as majority of what doctors associate as “Aspergers Characteristics” come from male representatives. A good point from somewhen else in the group suggested that it also comes from the fact women are better at masking.

First Interview

Below is an interview I conducted with a lovely lady called Lauren, it was a very interesting read and supported what I already believed to be true through my own experiences. Women with autism are rarely represented in the media and struggle to get diagnosis or support from others as they show different characteristics to the majority of the Aspergers community:

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. Feb 2009 age 13 nearly 14

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. it was difficult and took about 8 appointments to get a diagnosis as lot of signs/traits were interlinked with other conditions I already had diagnosed

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A. I'm strict with time (not been late once), very well organised and creative

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. No I was diagnosed with mental health before I had my diagnosis and a lot of people say to women because you can do eye contact or you have empathy/show emotions that they are not autistic when they are. People need to remember women are naturally brought up to be more mature/grown up then men so we learn things sooner than men would.

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Going out to busy/crowded places, meeting new people/socialising with new people and changes especially to routine. Neurotypical people should be taught about autism in school so less bullying happens and more support can happen even simple things like structured routine or explaining something in a different way or putting it into a real life prospect.

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A.People need to realise that autism is a invisible disability and there isn't a certain look like down syndrome. People also need to remember that autism is different in every person so just because one person with autism is aggressive it doesn't mean everyone is going to be aggressive. Finally to remember autism comes in different levels and severities so one person with autism could live independently with a little bit of support while another person with the same diagnosis might need 24 hour care and support

Second Interview

Another lovely lady called Sophie bravely answered two of the questions for me:

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A. I feel autism is based more around men. The way this could be improved is if people were more aware that autism can affect both males and females

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

A. I didnt actually get diagnosed until I was 19 but I went to John Parkes when I was younger as ny mum thought I was different but they only said I am left handed but use ny right hand so it was left at that until I was 19 and my mum started working in a school and realised that I did a lot of the things that an autistic child at the school did

Third Interview

Lastly was a very helpful interview by a lovely lady called Ebony. I felt the most connection with Ebonys answers, pretty much everything she said I could relate to, specifically the struggle our mothers had to get a diagnosis, the miss belief in diagnosis of you don’t fit the stereotypes and the frustration with the lack of positive female representation.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed at 8/9 years old

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. My mother found it difficult to get me an assessment to get diagnosed because I have a genetic condition which they wanted to overshadow autism under. Even though they’re totally unrelated. She fought in court for two years before I was granted a full assessment

Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

3. Aspergers makes me more observant. Aspergers allows me to focus specifically on and learn things really easily with things which I am really interested in, in detail, which is really useful for my degree. And Aspergers makes it easy for me to process visual information

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Absolutely not. Autism seems to be very much represented by men with the very typical characteristics (Big bang theory and atypical prime examples). I think there needs to be more female influencers who are on the spectrum speaking about it and also in movies, using autistic female characters as the main character instead of male

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Change. I guess just not changing things would be helpful but I think that’s just the way of the world.

People thinking I’m not on the spectrum because I’m not good at maths or science and I don’t have a breakdown every two minutes. Not assuming the stereotypes are true in everyone. My very black and white way of thinking. Sometimes this gets in the way of being able to think perceptively, as hard as I try, it can be very hard to understand why something is the way it is.

Interview 4

Interview with a lady who would like to stay anonymous. She has a very interesting story and in the past has done lots of work studying Aspergers in women.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. 2007

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I had anxiety n depression off n on for years. Worked as a advocate an had an abusive partner and it became worse. I went to a gp after reading about the condition and was dismissed by the gp. I took anti depressants n they made me feel so bad. Weight gain, hailing beginning to fall out n head felt like a racing feeling. Went back n was referred for cbt n refused to take meds as suicidal thoughts listed as side affect, which was happening. Went for cbt the lady had an autistic son. She picked up on traits n did n assessment n referred me to psychologist. I think I was quite lucky in my journey, in terms of a diagnosis. My mum said she always knew but she was always on meds. I’m not a fan on medication - personally

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A.1. I stopped hating or comparing myself to neuro typical people and what they do so easily.

2. It was ok to be different and I wasn’t stupid

3. I started to see myself and my traits and enjoy being me. If that makes sense

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. I think when people are shown autism they are often shown the extreme. I watched a programme on the bbc about people with asperges and I couldn’t c myself in any of them. People always think of Chris Packham but we too are all v different as are NTs. The only other female I know of is Susan Boyle who was exploited in some way. But I believe she’s had support now and on the up bless her

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Too many people

Eating around strangers

Bright lights

In terms of how Nts could help is tough. I’m used to not having help so can be hard saying I’ve got a disability n then dealing with people’s preconceptions or struggling without help. Mentor ship in terms of study n maybe work place could be good.

Interview 5

This interview is another who would like to be kept anonymous, their family is very judgmental of their diagnosis therefor they don’t openly disclose their name.

Q.When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed in 2013, aged 36

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I was fortunate in that the clinical psychologist who diagnosed me was a specialist in the female autustic phenotype, which made the diagnostic process easier.

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

A. Three positive things about Asperger's:

I stand in solidarity with my autistic kids, and understand them better

The way I think makes me good at writing essays

I think autistic people find greater joy in small things than neurotypicals.

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Autism in the media is usually male, which influences women's ability to get diagnosed and get help. There is a small but persistent push my autustic women to make autistic women and girls more visible, and we need to keep building on that

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. I struggle with practical things, like maintaining a routine, using public transport, and following directions. Neurotypicals can help by recognising female autism, and simply being kind

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

(abuse tw i guess, just mentions.)

You know what’s weird?

I just saw a post about having ADHD that uses “wanting everyone to like you” as a part of it.

But like... I’ve been diagnosed ADHD since I was seven years old. And even as a little seven year old, I never really... had that desire for people to like me? Certainly not on a conscious level. And I NEVER had any desire to change myself to make people like me. Never, ever ever cared for that. If people don’t like me for being who I am, then they’re free to mock me, and I’m free to keep rockin’ who I truly am. I was never willing to sacrifice who I am for others’ comfort.

What I’m saying is, I have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, but not because I want people to like me. I didn’t have it until my stepmother relentlessly abused me day in and day out, and socializing started Mattering^tm in adulthood.

I was always standoffish, introverted. At least once I grew out of toddlerdom, I remember always being a “lone wolf”. I’d play with my siblings, sure, but I was just as happy to take a Beverly Cleary “AR” book and lounge on my bed with the pages as my only company. Or, more often, Bunnicula.

Sure, if people mocked me, it would hurt when I was so young. But I was happy, for the most part, with who I was right up until The Big “T” in RWT Revelation when I was 14 years old. I would know that their opinion of me didn’t really matter, as long as I stayed true to who I am. Even as a kid, I always tried to be the best version of me, and was willing to improve, sure. But only if the criticism rang as valid. And “[me] has cooties!” just... didn’t? If other kids didn’t like me, I simply didn’t care!

I don’t know what it is. There’s just some intrinsic disconnect in the Social Substantiation part of my life, where I just. Didn’t need the validation of the people around me. Not most of them, anyways. (Friends? Yeah, my friends were always an incredibly valuable part of my life, and I desperately wanted to see my friends smile even if it’s at my own expense, but only like 7 people made the grade for most of my life.)

I think it was because I was subjected to bullying from a very young age, and though nobody ever did anything about it, I recognized it for the shallow, baseless ritual it really is. It didn’t make me any less valuable. So what if I really liked playing as animals? So what if my favorite band was J-Pop? So what if kids literally ran away from me whenever I got too close on the playground? Their opinions didn’t really matter to me as much as my own heart, my own enjoyment, my own life.

(Hell, I turned it on them and purposely chased the kids who were bullying me around the playground until they couldn’t run anymore. And I thought it was FUN!)

So, I did wind up developing social anxiety as I grew, largely starting as a spark from my phobia and stomach troubles (imagining scenarios that made me very, very anxious), and my stepmother’s constant berating me whenever I spoke fanned the flames wide. By my sophomore year of high school, this ten-year-old kid who had gladly given a mini seminar about why the rainforest is valuable to an entire auditorium of parents, teachers, and students without a flush of nerves was suddenly rendered, five years later, frozen and tearful at the very thought of singing in front of a close-knit group of choir folks.

And it shocked me, it genuinely truly SHOCKED me, and horrified me, to realize I’d been reduced to tears, rendered silent with anxiety, simply because I’d then been trained to FEAR any time I opened my mouth.

I immediately decided I despised it, and have been working to regain my “voice” ever since.

By age 17, I was willing to be watched in speaking again, but hesitated to initiate interaction unless I was sure somebody wanted it. (Frankly, I just didn’t like socializing.)

By 18, I had my first customer service job at a little music and games place called The Exchange, where I had to learn to initiate interaction. (Just to ask, “Hey, do you need any help finding anything?” And within two months, I got over my anxiety, almost even the distaste for smalltalk conversation.)

At my very next job, my first long-term job, I remember, when I first started, literally asking my manager, “How do you just talk to people?” Because even if I wasn’t afraid to initiate it, I had almost No Experience with regular, boring, plain laymens conversation. I didn’t know how to play the smalltalk game. And he actually walked me through some interactions, gave me pointers, gave me a bit of a script to follow.

I’ve gotten much, much better at that by now, after 5 years of working there and now 3 years of basically undergoing Socialization Training, along with active CBT with my therapist.

It’s a weird dichotomy, having RSD (but only in certain situations) while also being a fiercely, relentlessly irreverent and independent loner who doesn’t give a singular shit what other people think.

I think I’m circling back to my childhood levels of blissful disregard, as I work with my mentors and therapist on healing from the abuse and PTSD. I still haven’t ever held myself back when something Really Needed to be said. (Except, and this is the only exception that I can think of, in cases where “walking on eggshells” is the only way to survive without making my stepmonster blow up over every word. I acquiesce to her, not because I give any care whatsoever about her “liking” me, but just because I don’t want to deal with her attacking me whenever I speak what’s truly on my mind. And sometimes, not even that will stop me, but she hasn’t exactly earned any sort of gentle consideration. I will say the very fewest words to her that I possibly can, and then escape the very MOMENT an opportunity presents itself... and not all of those words are kind, I’ll be honest. But somebody has to tell her when she’s being ridiculous and hurting everyone around her? Somebody has to make her stomp up to her room and cool off. I’m alright being the one to bear that burden.)

But that’s a tangent for another post. 

I’ve never really put words to this before. I always just said, “I don’t care what they say.” But somewhere deep down, I do?

I guess I’m just... really good at not listening to the part of me that Does care.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Black Coffee

Vax'ildan needs a way to make money. Life got pretty rough after Syldor cut him off and he and his sister found themselves living in a tiny apartment in the city.

He needs a quick way to make some money. What he finds is Percival de Polo.

-

We’re calling it the sugar daddy au and we’re unapologetic, folks. Will be multi chapter if people like it.

Please consider reblogging, leaving a comment on Ao3 or donating to my ko-fi page!

Thanks to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian

-

Always meet them in a public place.

That had been the prevailing advice when he’d looked on the Internet, when he’d asked Molly’s mother, when he’d finally decided to do this slightly crazy thing.

So Vax had messaged back, after stewing over those handful of words for nearly half a day, after they’d popped up with a unusually cheery message chime that honestly was a bit of a weird choice for an online sex forum. Though Vax didn’t know what else he’d expected. A moan of lust maybe, every time a message from his anonymous friend came in?

I’d like to meet you and talk about this face to face.

He’d replied, sat cross legged in his underwear on the bed that took up the majority of the space. He’d have called his bedroom the box room of the apartment, if his sister’s hadn’t been equally as claustrophobic.

1pm tomorrow at the Blooming Grove café? It’s on fifth street.

Vax thought it was a good choice. Nice, airy and Caduceus made the best coffee he’d ever had in the whole city. Also it wouldn’t hurt to be in a place where there would always be a stronger-than-he-seemed, seven foot tall friend within earshot.

He’d frowned than, tugging at a loose strand of ink black hair that had come loose from his bun. He’d told himself he was overthinking this. Catastrophizing, that’s what the CBT book his sister had lent him called it. Odds were this guy was just a nice enough, probably lonely middle-aged man. If anything seemed off, Vax could easily just politely decline and get out of there. He’d escaped from far worse.

Besides, maybe the offer would scare him off. Maybe Orthax- obviously not his real name but his username on the website- would lose his nerve and shut down and that would just be the end of it.

But then the reply came, less than five minutes after Vax’s offer when he’d taken five hours.

I know it, good choice. See you there. I’ll have a red carnation.

Vax had smiled at that, maybe even snorted a little. How romance novel. How Gone with the Wind.

It was a little sweet.

His estimation of the guy’s age had shot up but the amount he feared for his life went down.

And now he was sat here, at the comfy table for two right in the window, the one with the black iron seats and the mosaic table top. Dark eyes flicking to his watch, he noted it was now five minutes past one and there wasn’t a single flash of red to be found amongst the dinner crowd.

What if he never showed up? Maybe Orthax had lost his nerve at the last minute.

Vax frowned and leaned back in his chair, trying to figure out how that made him feel.

It wasn’t like he was dying to be someone’s sugar baby. After all, if he felt completely, 110% okay with it, he wouldn’t have lied about where he was going to his sister when she’d asked, dashing back to grab her forgotten lunch and seeing him half in, half out of his leather jacket, chasing Trinket around for his second shoe. He’d told her he was going to meet another art director, once she’d wrenched his now dripping shoe from her hairball of a dog.

And instantly regretted that lie, when he’d seen how her face lit up with hope for him.

Truth was, he thought as he took another sip of his black coffee to match how bitter he felt inside, the auditions had been very thin on the ground lately and even the few he did get didn’t go very far. Most directors wouldn’t even see him dance, not once he told them he was trans.

No auditions meant no jobs. No jobs meant no money coming in. And he and Vex would rather lose the apartment than ask Syldor for money, after he’d made it so acidly plain they wouldn’t be seeing another penny as long as Vax lived as himself.

The old man could rot as far as Vax was concerned.

He sighed, screwing up his face, fingers tight on his own arms. He was getting angry again, he could feel it, the kind of anger that could so easily make him say and do stupid things. But it was so much simpler to get mad at his bigoted ass of a father than at the whole world, the world that just didn’t seem to want to let him be happy, the world that had always been so unfair to him, the world that had left him sat here, messaging random people on the internet, offering to sell himself, hoping for one last chance to not fuck his whole life up.

“Are you…sorry, this is going to sound insane if I’m wrong but are you Raven?”

Vax opened his eyes, startled.

Well, he was a hell of a lot younger than he’d been expecting. Wasn’t half bad on the eyes either.

“I am. You’re Orthax?”

Tall, very tall. Human. White hair but it had to be the result of dye rather than age, no one with naturally white hair would wear it in such a neat, subtle undercut. Shockingly blue, tired looking eyes behind a pair of circular, gold rimmed glasses. Stubble creeping up his jaw. Looked like he needed a good night’s sleep.

And he actually did have the red carnation in his pocket.

The guy’s face wrinkled in gentle embarrassment, “Yeah. Sorry, it’s a rather stupid username. I didn’t think how bad it would sound out loud.”

His voice was prim, sculpted, a borderline ridiculously high society accent. But it was the only thing about him that gave any hint of the wealth Vax assumed he’d have; his clothes were dark and simple, no logos or brands, just dark blue jeans and a pain grey collared shirt that was a little oversized. Wait, no, there was a ring on his finger. The gleam of real gold, a crest too small to make out from his distance.

Vax cracked a smile, “It’s fine. Doesn’t have a reference to the size of your genitals so it’s better than most I see on there.”

The guy laughed, a short, bark of a laugh like he didn’t do it very often, “Even so. Now we’ve met face to face, can I be Percy?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “Then I’m Vax’ildan. Vax for short.”

“Lovely. Can I get you a drink, Vax?”

He tipped his mug, judging that he had maybe two swallows left. Having two drinks at a café was rank extravagance on Vax’s budget, even with Caduceus’ heavy friends discount, and all of a sudden the idea of having one bought for him seemed strange. But he was going to have to get used to that if this was going to work.

“Sure. Black coffee please and an amount of sugar I’m not comfortable telling you right now. The guy behind the counter knows.”

That made Percy laugh again, “Sure. A gentleman after my own heart.”

Vax paused as he watched Percy move through the maze of mismatched tables to the counter (Caduceus didn’t have the best eye for organisation). Being called a gentleman had gave him a happy little tightness in his stomach and it was probably good that he’d been able to make the guy laugh twice. So far so good.

Vax had always been very good at reading people in a short space of time. It was partly good intuition, partly a strong sense of empathy inherited from his mother, partly survival instinct from his years with Syldor, trying to work out how much he could trust people, how much he could be himself versus how much he’d need to lie.

It was serving him well as it ever had in trying to set up this delicate arrangement, helping him reject a handful of people and decide Percy was the only one he was going to agree to meet. And it was telling him a lot about Percy right now.

He seemed sad. There was no other word for it. There were too many lines around his eyes for someone as young as he was, down turned ones that clearly didn’t come from smiling. That shirt wasn’t doing a good job of concealing how slender he was, his nails were bitten uncomfortably close, there were old burns and scars on his hands and he’d missed part of his hair when he’d brushed it. And of course there was the fact that he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. It didn’t take a lot of Vax’s intuition to see that.

In short, he looked a bit bedraggled. At first Vax had been stunned that someone with such good looks and, presumably, a lot of money needed to inquire after a sugar baby. But as he watched him fumble for change, exchange a few pleasantries with Caduceus and pick his way back over to their table with two mugs, he was starting to piece it together.

Percy was just a little bit lost. He needed someone to hold his hand.

Vax mentally shrugged. He could do that.

“Here…” Percy sat the two coffees down, one in front of Vax, “I promise I didn’t look when he put the sugar in.”

Vax smiled wanly, “I’m pretty sure he stints me every time. It’s for my own good.”

Percy slid into the chair opposite him, muffling a cough, “Sorry…and I’m sorry for being late too. Time got away from me when I was working.”

“Oh? What do you do?” It was as good a place as any to make a start.

The tips of Percy’s ears reddened, “Well. Not work as in for my job. It’s…well, tinkering? Just messing around with machinery for my own amusement. I have a little work shop in my apartment.”

“Sounds interesting,” Vax smiled, wondering if he could be paid for his company in putting up all that flatpack furniture that was still sitting around in his own place.

“Well…” that seemed to please him, “I’ve made a few things. Odds and ends, patented a few things actually…”

Vax filed that away for something to return to later, something to do a little research on, “So what’s your day job?”

The discomfort returned a little, though it seemed a well-worn kind, something he was used to, “I, uh…I run my family’s company. Whitestone Industries.”

Vax nearly choked on his coffee, “Wait, what? Seriously?”

It was one of those ubiquitous household names, a little silver stamp on everything from electronics to massive civil engineering projects and charity initiatives. So huge and all encompassing, it was hard to imagine it as a family business.

Fuck, he’d suspected anyone with a kink for having a kept partner would have a fair amount of spending money but he hadn’t expected an oligarch.

“Yeah…” Percy looked down awkwardly, tracing his finger between the pretty glass tiles on the table top, “I don’t do that much, the board just puts stuff in front of me and I sign it. It’s the surname really…they let me mess around in the aerospace engineering department sometimes.”

Vax paused, his dismay fading. While he wasn’t about to feel sorry for someone who earned more money by the hour than his mother had ever seen in her life, he could see how that would be lonely. Having the pressures of your family bend and twist you into a position you couldn’t hold long before your muscles began to burn and your head swam.

He could understand that.

“Well…” Vax gave a friendly smile, soft and gentle as he could manage, “You’ve always got your work shop to come home to?”

“Yeah,” Percy looked up, like he really appreciated those words, “I do…so what do you like to do, Vax’ildan?”

“You can call me Vax,” he reminded him, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I like saying it,” he said it like it was something he was admitting, “It’s beautiful.”

Charming as well, huh? Vax was starting to think this whole thing was his very first good idea.

“I’m a dancer,” he stirred his coffee idly, spoon ringing against the china, “Aspiring, really. It’s been a while since I had a gig. I do teach a class down at the community centre and my friend Mollymauk lets me choreograph for his shows. They do Shakespeare mostly so there’s not a lot of call for it but…”

He trailed off limply. He felt like he was in front of someone who remembered him from Syldor’s, meeting him in the street and asking politely how he was getting on, all the while both of them painfully aware that he’d been disowned and this entire conversation had been an unadulterated mess.

But Percy had a smile in his voice, Vax heard it even when he didn’t lift his eyes to see, “That sounds lovely. I really admire anyone who has a creative job, especially people who teach others, I could never do that.”

Vax’s eyes darted up, too stunned to worry that he was looking a bit of a fool, “Really?”

Percy blinked, even tilting his head a little like a puppy would, “Forgive me but…have you ever had a compliment before?”

Vax opened his mouth…and had to close it again, smiling sheepishly. After a moment, the two of them found themselves laughing quietly under the chatter contained within the café. What else was there to do?

“Glad I could be your first, anyway,” Percy’s laugh ended in a cough he muffled into the back of his hand, “I’ll make sure I throw in as many as I can in the future.”

Vax lifted an eyebrow, “Does that mean…this is going to be a thing? You and me?”

Percy smiled playfully, eyes flashing a little, something Vax hadn’t even thought he would be capable of doing, “Well…I’d certainly be up for it though I think we should talk ground rules?”

Vax’s smile softened around the edges and any lingering worry that had survived in his chest died away at that moment. He was approaching this like a blueprint, of course, but there was comfort in that, reliability.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were thinking, then?” He’d finished his second coffee at that point, a pleasant buzz starting up in his veins.

Percy nodded, ticking them off on his fingers as he went, suddenly becoming very business-like and formal, “I’d pay your rent, I understand that’s the main monetary concern for people. I’d also send you a number of gifts every month once I get a better idea of things you like though some would be sexual in nature. I’d send these to your apartment or you could keep a separate P.O box if you prefer to keep that information private.”

Vax tried not to look too eager, though his heart was hammering in his chest, “And in exchange?”

“A…we’ll call it a date for want of a better word though we’d be by no means exclusive, you could pursue any other relationships though I’d prefer to be the only one with whom you had this kind of…arrangement. But one date every fortnight at least. You can suggest activities but so can I, we’ll reach a compromise. If you need to cancel any, that’s fine, though I’d like it to be rearranged if possible.”

Vax was fighting a bemused smile at how much like a meeting this felt, “And how many of these dates would end in sex? All of them?”

Percy looked taken aback, “I’d…I’d never force sex on you, Vax’ildan, never. I’d like to be intimate with you but if there’s ever any night you’re not feeling it or you’re not in the mood that’s fine. You just have to tell me.”

Vax’s amusement was replaced by surprise for a moment, surprise at the sincerity in Percy’s voice. He really did seem to care about Vax’s consent and comfort. Something that really shouldn’t come as a shock, he realised, but still…

“Understood. Same to you, of course,” he nodded.

Percy looked relieved, apparently genuinely hating being thought of as a person who would demand sex simply because he was paying for it, “I’d also appreciate pictures, whenever the mood takes you. And…” he stopped suddenly, finally seeming shy and even a little embarrassed, “I’d just…I’d like a friend. Tell me how your day is going. Tell me what you thought of whatever was on TV last night. Stuff like that.”

The expression on his face, which so clearly screamed that Percy hadn’t had that kind of friendliness in a very long time, that was what made Vax reach out and put his hand over Percy’s where it lay on the table. It hadn’t been a deliberate action, something he’d thought about, but he was glad he’d done it after Percy’s shame turned to relief and gratitude.

“That sounds perfectly reasonable,” Vax smiled, feeling Percy’s fingers turn under his to hold, knotting them together, “Got a contract you want me to sign or something?”

Percy smiled, blushing lightly under his gentle teasing, “No…sorry, a force of habit, I guess. Whenever you don’t know what to say at board meetings, if you use that kind of tone I’ve found they’ll leave you alone. Even if what you said was complete bullshit. So I guess I do it when I’m nervous?”

“Don’t be,” Vax grinned, “I think this is going to work out fine.”

Percy was full of polite apologies that they couldn’t start things right away but he had work to get back to. Actual work, he promised, not his tinkering.

But they exchanged numbers and Vax stood outside the café, watching his white haired saviour disappear into the crowds, clutching a fresh coffee to see him through the afternoon. It was getting cold but he lingered, waiting until he lost sight of Percy. Percy of the tired eyes and burned hands and family money he seemed so awkward about. Percy who smiled sweetly most of the time and darkly when he wanted to and asked for a friend.

Vax smiled wryly to himself and turned himself back towards home.

At least it wasn’t going to be boring.

[andonutty]

a fool’s guide to coping w bpd

ok so for the record im NOT a mental health professional, im just... someone with bpd who’s coping and thought i’d share my tips. i think making a post like this will a) reach more people, and b) help my friends more than me just offering advice when they come to me for help. bpd affects everyone differently, and i can’t claim to totally understand the struggles of everyone who has it, but if you’re struggling right now and you just don’t know what to do or where to go, i gotchu fam. so without further ado... a step-by-step guide for coping with bpd

tw for mentions of emotional manipulation, self-harm, and suicide. none of it is in-depth, but i figured i’d warn anyway.

1) decide that you want to cope in a healthier way.

this seems kinda strange as a first step, but to me it really is the most important step. living with bpd all my life and being in therapy since i was 10 taught me a lot about willingness. saying “i want to be healthier” sounds like a no-brainer, but it’s actually really difficult. you have to sit yourself down and ask yourself: do i really want to fundamentally change the way i think about situations, about myself, and about other people? am i willing to work on this, even though it’s hard? and am i willing to give up on the unhealthy coping mechanisms i’ve been clinging onto?

i’m being totally genuine here: it took me years to get to the point where i could say: yeah, i really, really want to stop emotionally manipulating people to get what i want. i’m so sick of basing my self-worth on what other people say and do. i’m so scared that i am my bpd, and that there’s nothing else inside me; i don’t want it to be that way anymore. i want to have healthy and fulfilling relationships with other people. i want people to stop being afraid of me. i want to love myself. i really and truly do. and only when you come to that (awful, gut-wrenching) revelation can you actually start helping yourself. if you’re not at that point, that’s totally fine. i had to go through a hell of a lot to get there, and i understand not everyone is there. i wish everyone who can’t make this decision yet the best, but i really don’t think this post will be the miracle cure you’re hoping for. you can still read it for sure! i’m just saying that this first step was an extremely necessary one for me, and the next steps get a lot easier once you make this decision.

okay, so you’ve come to the realization that you really, really want to learn some new coping mechanisms. where do you start?

2) look into dbt (dialectical behaviour therapy).

ok. i’ve been going through dbt for a while, and i swear to god, it’s good. dbt was made for people with bpd, and it’s different from cbt in that the skills aren’t just cognitive. there are four sections of dbt skills: mindfulness, emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and interpersonal effectiveness. it may seem overwhelming, but all these skills are very practical and don’t just focus on “hey you’re thinking this? stop it.“ if you have access to a counsellor or therapist, ask them about dbt. if you don’t have access, try to find some stuff you can work on online. i did a quick search and found three sites (one, two, three).

if you have a therapist or counsellor that you can talk to about this, feel free to skip the rest of this section (or read it so you can surprise your therapist with your knowledge). for those of you who don’t have someone to guide you through this, i’m aware all these skills seem incredibly daunting. my recommendations for beginner skills are the following:

PLEASE skill, or reducing vulnerability to emotions (under emotion regulation)

nonjudgmental stance (under mindfulness)

stop, tip, distraction, or improve skills (under distress tolerance)

dear man or myths about interpersonal effectiveness (under interpersonal effectiveness)

reducing emotion vulnerability was the first skill i started working on. when i was first diagnosed with bpd, i was working at a restaurant without any meal breaks. i’d have meltdowns at work and after work, and it took this skill for me to realize that i needed to pack a snack or eat right after getting off my shift, because i was most vulnerable to my emotions when i was hungry or tired. when you understand how food, sleep, exercise, mood-altering substances, etc. all play into how vulnerable you are to your emotions, you can start thinking more clearly about situations and you can start coping ahead to reduce that vulnerability ahead of time. you’d be surprised how much this one helps.

nonjudgmental stance is probably one of the most helpful skills i learned. one of my therapists put it this way: if bpd is an allergy, then invalidation is the allergen. meaning: the thing that’s going to irritate your bpd and trigger problem behaviours is invalidation of emotions. it’s shame, and judgment. everyone judges themselves (which isn’t really healthy, but it is a part of our societal structure), but for us? that shit hurted. i can’t count the amount of times that i’ve been crying and then thought something like “god, you’re just so pathetic“ and started crying even harder. our impulsive behaviour and the decisions we regret almost always stem from a core feeling of being invalidated. remember that time that you were talking about your feelings to someone and they seemed dismissive, so you decided you hated them with every fiber of your being? yep, me too. that’s us reacting to invalidation. in general, we don’t really validate ourselves. quite the opposite! most of the time, we tear ourselves down and expect others to fill that void for us. (a lot of people do this, but it’s really problematic for us in particular because of our generally self-destructive behaviour.) so learning to be compassionate with ourselves is a really important step to take. if you like meditations, look up loving kindness and self-compassion meditations. rain is also a really good meditation to do, but i think it can be really painful to do when you’re just starting out. i’ve linked it at the bottom if you want to check them out, but try not to overload yourself! just stick to one you really like.

stop, tip, distract, and improve are all really good skills to start out with because they’re skills you use for when your skills run out. if you find yourself really struggling with crisis situations a lot, these are good to start out with. they’re specifically meant to calm you down, to get your emotions and adrenaline to a manageable level. if you struggle a lot with engaging in problem behaviour under stress, this one is golden. i used to struggle a lot with substance abuse, and these skills were lifesavers. instead of going right for the substance, i’d use stop. i’d distract myself for a while, surf the urge until the wave of emotion passes. then i could use skills like please by getting something to eat, or dear man by addressing the interpersonal problem with a level head. and on that note...

dear man / myths about interpersonal effectiveness, which is a great skill if your main problem is about asking for help or establishing boundaries. i used to have a lot of problems about asking for things properly (hence my habit of emotionally manipulating others to get what i wanted or needed), because i felt that if someone said no to me, i wouldn’t be able to handle it. or that people would hate me if i asked for things, or that i should be able to handle things on my own. in a way, it felt easier to rely on making others feel bad for not doing more for me rather than to ask outright. these myths are hard to unlearn, but it’s a good place to start if your main trigger is about boundaries or asking for help.

ok, so you’ve started working on a skill. a skill. don’t burn yourself out here, it’s okay (and more productive) to just focus on one instead of trying to change yourself overnight. and on that note...

3) be kind. remember change won’t happen overnight, and keep going.

this one is difficult, because... like, it’s not gonna be easy. i remember i used to have meltdowns and think, “no. i’m tired of being skillful. i’m tired of being the bigger person. i’m sick of this.” and that’s why the first step is so important, because you’re going to need that resolve to say, “hey, i haven’t engaged in my problem behaviour for so long. let’s not start now. i know it’s frustrating, i know it’s so easy to go back to what we know, and at the same time, i want to be better. i know i can be better.”

and even if you do engage in that problematic behaviour again (which, let’s face it, you probably will, because no one is perfect and everyone messes up, and that’s 100% okay), you need to remember this and be compassionate with yourself. everyone messes up. everyone says things they don’t mean to. everyone does things that they regret. everyone falls into old patterns from time to time. what’s important here is to stop beating yourself up over it and start doing something different. if you went back to self-harm, if you started calling up everyone you know and threatening to kill yourself, whatever it is — don’t conflate yourself with the behaviour. instead, take ownership of it. make amends with those you hurt instead of running away or self-sabotaging, think about what happened and try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. slip-ups happen to everyone. literally everyone. so please try not to be hard on yourself if it happens. be disciplined, but not harsh. i promise, beating yourself up over mistakes is only going to hurt you and everyone around you.

conclusion

if you’ve read this far, thank you so much for doing so. i know that when you’re in the thick of it, it’s so hard to imagine yourself having a future, to imagine that you can make friends, keep people around, be anything but the sum total of your perceived failures. but you can. it’s difficult, believe me, it’s difficult, but it’s possible. and i believe you can do it. and trust me, there’s no way you’re going to disappoint me, no matter how much you feel like you’ve fucked up. if you can, just try it out, and i’ll be cheering you along every step of the way.

more resources, if you’d like them:

in general, this site is pretty good for handouts. and again, here are the three sites i linked above (one, two, three) that i found through a cursory search. 

also, look into unhelpful thinking styles if you want. this is the worksheet i have, and it’s genuinely really useful. i keep it in my workbook and look at it to remind myself of when i’m unintentionally using them.

russ harris, who talks a lot about living a fulfilling life. here are some videos of his that i really like (internal struggles, the choice point, the struggle switch).

jon kabat-zinn and mbsr (mindfulness-based stress reduction). seriously if you’re into mindfulness this guy is so good. 9 attitudes in particular is a video i personally really like.

the aforementioned rain meditation, by tara brach. this one is all about learning what you need and providing it for yourself. it’s part of the larger loving kindness and self-compassion umbrella.

kristen neff has a website with self-compassion exercises, as well as books and such that she’s published. if she’s not your style, search up loving kindness or self-compassion meditations and i’m sure you’ll find other people that you might vibe with more.

i know brené brown deadass exploded in popularity a while back, but there’s a reason she did. all of her stuff about shame is incredible. here are two of her ted talks that hit different for me personally (listening to shame, the power of vulnerability)

also, if you can... maybe invest in a dbt skills workbook. i use the actual marsha linehan dbt skills training book, which can be a little complicated, but it works for me because my therapist is there to explain it. i’ve heard good things about the dbt skills workbook by matthew mckay, but i’ve never used it personally so i can’t attest to how comprehensive it is. if you can go to like, an actual bookstore and flip through the pages, that’d be ideal. but since we’re in a pandemic, idk how feasible that is. i’m not really a self-help book kind of person, but i’d recommend authors like pema chödrön, brené brown, kristen neff, and russ harris (and jon kabat-zinn? does he publish books? if he does then i rec them). if you’re in a post-secondary institution, try checking your school’s library! i’ve found a few books there. also, public libraries tend to have some of these books too. so if you don’t have the money to actually go out and buy these books, i’d suggest borrowing books from libraries and photocopying the pages.

[nomand-berserka]

A little openly honest abridged intro in to me and dealing with my head and my black dog.

I am the newly appointed Team Leader for West Yorkshire with the guys at Veterans Hike. @veteranshike

Ive found a love for hiking over the past few months, since this crazy lockdown here in the UK.

I have struggled a lot over the years since leaving the Army, still dont feel like I fit into the bracket called Civvie. I know that may sound a little cliche. But it is exactly what it is.

I joined the forces straight from school. There was nothing for me where I lived, and with a long proud military history in my family, I felt it's what I'd always wanted and knew in my early to mid teens, that I'd join up.

I felt I did pretty well, considering pretty much everyone I knew, thought that I wouldnt even make it past selection. Well I pissed on their parade let me tell ya.

I'm not going to go into the ins and out of my career. But the tours I did, were SFOR (peacekeeping) Bosnia 98 and Op Agricola Kosovo 99.

Now with that, I've seen some pretty fkd up stuff at the ages of 18 and 19.. But you crack on and get the job the done. Get back home and continue as normal.

Now upon leaving the Army, I felt very lost. Ended up going from job to job, due to not being able to fit in with or liking the people I worked with. Often getting pushed out because of having a different mindset... This turned into a serious dislike for people in general. There was no bond, no brotherhood, everyone out for themselves and didnt care who they fkd over to get what they wanted.

This became the time I started with the heavy drinking and the stupid violence, infact the drink and the violence became the reason I lost my family and almost ended up 6 feet under.

The violence continued, as I just hated everyone... for lots of different reasons. This then led to me serving time on a couple of occasions. But it still continued after being locked up... I didnt see it as a problem, as I just thought "I wont take peoples shit", and I'll show anyone who tries to give me shit. That it will lead to getting hurt. Jump forward to being left for dead with 2 stab wounds... Yes it got that bad. Maybe I was asking for my way out?

Jump forward a year or so of living a dark time.

Its then i got into martial arts (Muay Thai under the tutilage of master Ronnie Green 5 time world champion), a friend of mine didnt want to see me locked up again. Or with more perforations than a "Tetley Tea bag". This became my drive again, I'd found something I could focus on and put myself, my whole self into again.

First session in, I was hooked. Had my first full contact fight at just over 6 months and had plenty thereafter, still have the copy of my official invite to the 2013 world championships. This was my crowing glory moment... This is where I'd found the focus to not be that drunked violent ass hat. My fitness went through the roof and I felt good again for the first time in years

Injury got me though, put me right back to not being able to train. Even ended my career, I tried to train again, but way too soon. Causing myself more problems. Taking even longer to get back to 100%

My anger started to creep back, the bad food the drinking... and yes the violence. then jump again forward to going back to prison for a very violent episode in 2015. Where 2 people got badly hurt. I pleaded guilty. I tried to reach out for help before the day in court. But it was too little too late...

However, in prison this time in 2016 I asked for help. Where can i get it, and who can help me the most.. There was a small eager group called Care after Combat, they concentrate on helping Veterans, who are sent to prison. During and after release. (I'll go into them at a later date).

I've kept my nose clean since then, was officially Dignosed with PTSD in 2017, so done a few local therapy courses Anger Management, CBT but still no actual PTSD help as of yet. Combat Stress, I think may have forgotten about me hahaha.

But the thought of prison!!!! id rather not go back ever again. Plus I'm getting on now, and not a 25 year old dick head. Eith a chip on his shoulder about civvies anymore.

Jump forward again, to present Covid 19 times.

I'm a joiner now put myself through College 12 years ago. The outdoors have always agreed with me. But after a work accident last year in August I had 14 weeks sat at home gaining weight. Bordem drinking and eating shit and the head started to go again. But thankfully got back to work early December.

In March 2020 and we get Furloughed. For however long it may take.

So I gave myself THE talking to. Stay off the booze (well not completely hehe). Keep yourself busy. Find a focus in something, anything. Just dont he that dickhead again.

So here I am, I spend at least 3 days a week walking the Pennines and the moors between my beloved Yorkshire and the dark soggy lands of Lancahire. Its literally 20 minutes from my door to where I park the motor. My head still goes south, but more into the low mood and hating myself for allowing what I'd done in the past. I've had depression for years, but it was always over shadowed by my stupidity. So when it does that, i hit my local park and do 10 laps (8 miles) of that. Or just get my pack ready and hit the trails. Often doing around 15-20 miles.

Now I've started with a small Daystack and have started adding weight, carring 15kg. plus 3 litre camelback, food stuff and inclement weather gear. Its north of England the weather does what it wants. "If tha dunt lyk weather, jus bloody wait 20 minutes It'l change". hahaha.

Doing this has given me more drive in my fitness and massively boosted my mental state. Plus the escape from the rat race bollox that we all have to live through. More and more people have started to notice my weight loss. Down from 20 stone to just over 17 stone. Now I'm as round as I am tall, but for a fat lad I've been told I'm pretty fit... Guess all those years in the Army, years of Muay Thai and Kempo Jiu Jitsu. It must have left some form of conditioning and muscle memory. So this again boosts me. I'm now picking up the weights at home and even got a bike... so this new found fitness is a fantastic feeling again... it's not just about keeping busy anymore, it's about showing people. Who I'd alienated during all these years, that I'm not the same guy, and they are wanting to come on hikes with me now

(Its also pushed me to train for the 3 peaks... but that's another story for another time)

It's also the biggest Therapy I can give myself, sometimes I go it alone and sometimes I have company. The outdoors is literally where I feel at my easiest and most peaceful... The benefits are there for everyone who knows me, to see. Its physically demanding, but it's so peaceful. If I bump into other people, there is always a nod a smile and a "morning/afternoon" exchanged. Not all people are nob heads haha!

I cant stress enough how good it feels to keep occupied physically and mentally, buy doing something I never thought I'd do...

It's become my passion... I'm looking into longer routes all the time, and now looking at some proper outdoors gear. Better rucksack even a tent. If being up the hills for a few hours or just a day, makes me feel things are better. Then surely a couple of days and nights will be even better...Right?

I want to thank anyone who takes the time to reads this, however you see it. Be it on insta, Tumbler or FB. So cheers guys and gals.

We all have hardships, we all need that help at some point. Go out and find what makes it all better, please guys. We all deserve to smile for what ever reason.

Who knows, we may even cross trails someday. You'll always get a smile and a nod from me.

Steve

The Nomad Beserka

[consultingfujoshi]

adhd anon here 1) your experience with adhd things that are dismissed in women so they go undiagnosed for a long time 2) rejection sensitive dysphoria!!! i just read about it and started to cry 3) what did you think about your mental health before you were diagnosed like what diagnosis you had for yourself unofficially i always had my eyes on anxiety but now i suspect something else i wonder what that is 4) hyper!!!!fixations!!!!! please and thank you

1) from what admittedly little I've read on it, ADHD tends to go undiagnosed in women (counting myself as a woman here because like even tho I'm nb I've been socialised and treated as female my entire life for obvious reasons) because it tends to manifest verbally rather than in physical behaviour. girls with ADHD tend to be excessively talkative which is often overlooked since ADHD is most commonly recognised through hyperactive body language and restlessness. A kid with ADHD manifesting in not being able to sit still is much more likely to get diagnosed than a kid whose ADHD manifests in them talking too much, which was the case with me. I haven't really looked into this side of it too much because my struggles relating to like. It taking so long to get me diagnosed wasn't because of my gender but because of the fact that I was a "gifted" kid. ADHD is seen as an intellectual disorder rather than what it actually is, which is a developmental disorder, so the general opinion is that ADHD = stupid, and someone like me, who is just overall very intelligent and always excelled in school when I was younger, couldn't possibly have ADHD. The fact that I was intelligent allowed me to fly under the radar until around GCSE's (16 years old for those who don't know) because school work didn't require much concentration. But when it got to exams and I actually had to put real effort in and do work past the six allotted hours a day and take the initiative to voluntarily learn and produce work, combined with the fact that I was able to breeze through 12 years of school without having to learn how to revise and study properly, the realisation that there was something wrong hit me hard and fast and I was forced to confront something that I simply hadn't had to think about earlier on. My lack of diagnosis wasn't necessarily caused by the fact that my ADHD manifested early on in my life in a way that was overlooked; it was mostly caused by not having to consider I may have a learning disability until I was expected to take my learning past a point that could be completed and set aside quickly and easily with minimal concentration involved.

2) (I'm gonna talk about the pre-diagnosis before RSD because it kinda feeds into that nicely) I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety when I was 12, and while I definitely think I was suffering from what the professionals call "low mood" at the time that was unaffected by my ADHD, I don't believe that those two things, at least now, exist separately from it. ADHD is often diagnosed as anxiety and/or depression, especially in teenagers and young adults, because the inability to concentrate and commit to anything is attributed to the lethargy and apathy of depression, and the rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD) is attributed to the paranoia and forced asocial behaviour of anxiety. It's understandable considering the stigma around ADHD being "a child's disorder" that a lot of people with ADHD are labelled with depression and anxiety, but it can be so harmful to those who are misdiagnosed, simply for the reason that anxiety and depression are "temporary" issues. You can get therapy to fix depression and anxiety. You can learn it out of you. It takes time, but it's possible. That's not the case with ADHD. You can't CBT the ADHD away. It's something you're stuck with for life, and mislabelling the symptoms of ADHD as disorders that you can fix gives you false hope that one day, if you try really really hard, all of this will go away and you'll just be "normal" again and everything will click into place. I was failing all of my subjects, but I convinced myself that this inability to work through it was just a barrier I could overcome if I worked at it, because it was caused by depression, so eventually I would feel better and it would go away and I'd be able to magically fix my grades. But ADHD doesn't work like that. You can't prevent it; you can only learn coping mechanisms. The realisation that my inability to perform to the standards expected of me because I could just Not Do What Was Being Asked Of Me, even simple things like a worksheet or a research task, was not something I could just power through, brought about the realisation that the path I'd set out for myself of getting qualifications, going to university, getting a degree, etc. was impossible because the kind of things that were expected of me were things ADHD would not allow me to do, which was and still is crushing, and I've basically been forced to have to rethink. My entire future. And that fucking sucks. And all it comes down to really is that I wish I'd been diagnosed sooner. (I'd like to talk about this more in depth at a later date but this post is already so long so I'm just gonna leave it here. Basically: if you've been diagnosed with depression or anxiety but you suspect you may have ADHD, please assess your symptoms and see which they fit into best. You may have been misdiagnosed. It'll save you a lot of time and stress.)

3) RSD!!!!! IT'S NOT FUN!!!! I don't wanna talk about this too much because it just makes me sad but yeah I had no idea this was a thing until one of my friends with ADHD pointed it out to me and it was like the mist cleared and for the first time I saw clearly what the fuck had been going on with my stupid brain for the last however many years. RSD fucking sucks man. I've lost friends over it. I've missed out on a lot of experiences because of it. If you have been diagnosed with anxiety but you suspect you have ADHD, I am BEGGING you to read up on RSD. It's a very specific type of anxiety exclusive to ADHD and it definitely called me out more than once.

4) (I cant do much more of this because my head is killing me but I'm trying my best ok) hyperfixations!!!!! they rule my life!!!!!! and every single one is bigger than the last!!! every single time I get a new hyperfixation I'm like "I'll never care about anything else as much as I care about this" and then six months later I CARE ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE MORE. IT'S NEVERENDING. ADHD brains are wired to think about one thing All The Fucking Time, so everything makes me think of good omens. just like everything made me think of pacific rim this time last year. everything can be related to the hyperfixation. there are no exceptions. looking back on my childhood I definitely had a lot of hyperfixations that went unchecked, like the one with the hunger games when I was 11 where I would force my friends to play pretend games where we murdered each other in the fields behind our houses.....that and like. dinosaurs. basically every year or so I reshape my entire personality around a new obsession. I cannot just Enjoy things. I must Become them. and no one else gets it!!! NO ONE ELSE GETS IT. I get made fun of a lot by people around me for getting so excited and emotional all the time over seemingly tiny little things, which in turn plays into the RSD (ADHD is its own worst enemy for fucking real), which is why I enjoy being here so much. because like....everyone else is exactly the same. and I'm really thankful to have found people who feel things as strongly and care as much as I do. so....thanks for that everyone

if you want me to talk about anything else or go into more detail I would be very happy to but unfortunately it is 2am and I have a splitting headache and also I've typed nonstop for about an hour now and that's more than the stupid hyper dumbass idiot brain usually allows and now I'm exhausted lmao....but thank you for taking interest in this and I hope this. idk. helps in some way??? gn

[inkedbygrace]

Lo que Construímos se Acabó

Lo que construímos se acabó

“What we built is over”

Esta historia terminó... no existe

(This story is over...it doesn't exist)

Such terminating words put together can emotionally fuse into a blade, sharp enough to penetrate the thickest/toughest emotional armor.

If you're reading this you've very likely had this “blade” cut you up once or twice in your pilgrimage of life. I certainly have, but my motioning to elaborate this in written form is not so much to entertain or develop the emotional turmoil “duringmath” but, the aftermath. At least in my own skin, brain and heart.

The rearview mirror to life tends to be very accurate and insightful. Yet, usually very easily forgotten as we flip through our ongoing pages of life. I'm reminded of a The Office quote by Andy:

“I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days, before you actually left them.”

Depression, anxiety, desperation, idolatry, all of these have a unique ability to work tremendously well as a team. They are usually the consequence of failure to live in the embrace of the PRESENT. All of these can make time & life go by in an instant and you miss out on it entirely. Half-assin' it or quarter-assin' it (hate to sound absolutistic), but it isn't living.

Anxiety is a bitch. It gives us the illusion that one needs to be in control of everything in order to be at peace. Anxiety then grabs desperation by the hand and runs pouring fuel in circles all around you to then light a match. Now, you have nowhere to go. Trapped in the flames of desperation. Idolatry is not as obvious as religious connotations might suggest. Our failure to embrace living in the present can at times be a sign of idolatry. Let me explain. Whenever we resource our definition of being (joy, sadness, stress) through external things, be it: relationships, gods, religion, people, hobbies, jobs, traffic jams... we are validating these as though where happiness is to be found...when happiness can only be found within. 

With all these powers combined, you have Captain Depression.

Captain depression called the shots in my life for close to four years while living in Germany. Not many people know I've navigated a great part of my life with depression because I am a pretty functional depressive. Nevertheless it is a part of my life. I could functionally go through the motions, but the moment to moment experiences' colors are tragically saturated. It's like I was unable to taste 50% of life's flavors. So I was missing out on 50% of experiences with my then love partner. At best, I had specific events to look forward to: concerts, dinners, movies, etc. The gigantic problem with this living for tomorrows has you missing out on so many nows. Those nows are of such vital importance because they help you mindfully construct and navigate the world around you. A world that includes yourself and others. All those nows help you savor the flavor of the tomorrows. I missed too many nows.

I want to break up.

I don't see us together anymore.

I have moved on.

It's funny how hearing those stinging words have an instant illusionary effect of healing or awakening. 

I can make it better! One would suggest

Tempted to bring up impulsive “solutions” that could bring about a mind changing resolution-when in reality couldn't be further from any sustainable truth...but in that moment of desperation- one clings to some warped form of hope.

Lo que construímos se acabó (What we built is over)

As I heard Natalia LaFourcade's song today it really resonated with what has been my Post-Relationship reality.

In the midst of counseling, CBT(Cognitive Behavior Therapy), Mindfulness, Present Living, I navigated my break up aftermath. In it all, with tearful hopeless evenings, uppity-I can do anything mornings, with gradual progression, clarity invited me to deep reflection. How many of my “in-satisfactions” and satisfactions were riding on something or someone else's shoulders. So much of my mental wellbeing was dependent on things outside my control. Many of my “pissy” moments with my love partner or others were mere projections of my own feelings of dissatisfaction that I was not willing to own up to. Sometimes I'd much rather spend countless hours spewing conversations of political/sociological indignation (which are necessary and important), but they became shielding protective scapegoating armor. My willingness to address everything wrong with the world, but with me.

Esta historia se acabó, no existe(This story is over, it doesn't exist)

Why are breakups potentially one of the hardest things to go through?

I think a lot has to do with our inability to live in the present and treating that which isn't as though it is. For example, we pave a road ahead into the future, better known as planning. It is of vital importance to plan, to dream, to desire, but always reminding oneself that it is but an illusion. This road I paved of 2.5 kids, traveling the world with her, it was very real in my head, but as hard as it might be to grasp; it is just not reality. It is an illusion. And receiving such harsh news is nearly impossible to assimilate because that paved road was so real.

What is is.

I had to make a mantra out of those three words. Being enamored or in desire or wishing a certain outcome is human nature, but it is not necessarily the healthiest way to live. Embracing things, circumstances, my former love partner for what she was and not for what she wasn't has allowed me to be at peace with whatever that outcome might be. What is is. I might be tempted to come up with reasons in my mind to justify a grand romantic gesture, but nevertheless birthed in anxiety. Hollywood and the great majority of “romantic” songs have greatly deceived us. At times the most romantic gesture one could conjure is to simply let it be.

...fue solo Nuestro (it was Ours alone)

I know you might not understand this now, Angel, but, I will forever love you.

She was right. I didn't understand it at the moment. That’s bullshit, I thought.

I now understand what she meant, and she meant just that. Angel, I will forever love you.

As I started accepting esta historia se acabó(this story is over), what was starting to occur was a very real and tangible process of letting go. I didn't exactly intend to let her go. There was too much fear. But I gradually understood that holding on is but an illusion because I could not possibly love and hold on, they're opposites. I don't think the feelings I was experiencing as I began to let her go- I had ever experienced before. I think I was glimpsing LOVE. I started understanding that LOVE could not be hijacked or monopolized by labels (marriage, fiancé, girlfriend, boyfriend, noviazgo), yes, there are different types of love, but LOVE is LOVE. Just then I began to navigate the past, our relationship in gratitude. Since July 17, 2013, when I met her, I have thought about her every single day. I can now be thankful for every one of those days and as I look back I am grateful to life for the beauty its allowed me to experience those 6 years.

I too will forever LOVE her.

I am grateful.

I am grateful.

Lo que construímos se acabó

Lo que construímos se acabó

Fue solo nuestro

Fue solo nuestro

[theknownstoic]

Hey, Today i will tell you about 6 books you should read to get started with stoicism in order to make your life better. I would like to start with Ego Is The Enemy by Ryan Holiday. 



Ego Is The Enemy.

"A powerful meditation on the nature and danger of ego"

If someone asked me to describe this book in one line i would say “A powerful meditation on the nature and dangers of ego”;  This is a book which will help you to know how our biggest enemy “EGO” manifest inside our self. And the person who read this will find same inside themselves. The author Ryan Holiday divides this book into three phases of our life :

Aspiration.

Success.

Failure.

since we all are one of these phases of our life and we needed our ego to be controlled accordingly. The author explain how it is affecting every phase of our life and how can we overcome that. When you are reading this book you have to be utmost honest with yourself and for doing that you requires lot of courage because in author’s own words, “it is not easy to go head-to-head with one’s ego”; to accept first ego must be there, during the reading of this book as each page goes up you will realize the underneath, hidden, unconscious self-examination. Now, here is a tip only exam yourself, don’t judge. At moment you start judging everything will be lost. This is the first books on Stoicism which i read and got influenced.



Stoicism And The Art Of Happiness.

Practical wisdom for everyday life. Ancient tips for modern challenges. Ancient truth that will change your life.

Its not a type of book that you real only once and boom you will get benefit from it. NO, its not like that you have you read this again and again to draw all its information present in this book for you.

But if you real this again and again than you will be able to understand a most thorough introduction to how to start Stoicism and how can it be used in modern life. The author does a very good job in combining stoicism with CBT advice, which gives the old text a new breadth of modern relevance.

Ignore the philosophical snobs(funny they call themselves stoic) who will tell you that they will understand Stoicism you need to refer to ancient text of Aurelius or Epictetus like a bible. Of course you should read them their is no harm in them but the modern world needed something  which is grounded in modern well researched practice.

In this book the thought are so well written and so demonstrative. The author clearly shows and understand the importance of placing ancient text within the modern context, and this thing which i really enjoyed during reading.

Don;t back off by its sightly repetitive nature. Don’t back off by the fact that author name is not Aurelius. The only thing that the author (Donald Robertson) has proven with this book, its that one of the greatest thing about Stoicism is that the lesson given by stoicism is not to be hold reverence of ancient almost bibical like figure. And the fact is that the beauty of stoic lessons is that they can be sown to hold a relevance that is according to modern life. And it is the idea and the lesson are themselves are the key, not those that are speaking them selves. 

This is the second books on Stoicism.



Meditation By Marcus Aurelius.

"Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them"

In the book Meditation Marcus Aurelius wrote his meditation in the series of spiritual exercises. At what extend human being make themselves complete by the belief in human progress. According to Marcus people are stuck in the cycle repeat themselves generation to generation- “marring , raising children, getting sick, dying, and complaining.” . There is nothing we can to change it. ” Hold your breadth until you turn blue, they will still doing it. but once you accept this you will be cheered.

KEY LESSON FROM MEDITATIONS:

The evil or bad things done by the people will harm you only when you do evil in response.

Fame and desires they are not worth of pursuing.

 The universe is change.

The things which we see as problem are basically not a problem they are created by our mind.

The greatest asset of human being is their rational mind.

Deepest lesson in meditation is about Mortality and shortness of life.

And this is the third books on Stoicism which I read.



Discourses and Selected Writing (Penguin Classics).

By Epictetus.

When I first stated reading about Stoicism orI can say when a was a new practicing Stoic. this is my third book on Stoicism. The tenets set forth in this book are more relevant to modern life and , me myself personally.

THE MAIN THEME OF BOOK IS:

Freedom of mind from external thought.

Producing inner tranquility.

Awareness.

And self-control of need and desires.

If you are a newbee than you must start with this this will definitely change your life or at last show some impact on your amazing life and made it more amazing. This book contains the full Enchridion  in the back.

Epictetus for many people is most moralizing and for many, the least interesting to be read, but this dos not show any type of sign that he is not brilliant. In many times when you were reading the book you will realize the clarity he shows in the book is so amazing that you will shake up from your core. 

This is the fourth books on Stoicism you should read.



Letter From A Stoic.

'It is philosophy that has the duty of protecting us ... without it no one can lead a life free of fear or worry'

This is the book which I recommend to someone who want to utilize every spare moment for the betterment of their mind an d personality. Who wanted to spend time with their loved ones in calm way. Who is serious about the personal virtue.

Than this book is made for you, you must get acquainted with Seneca. More significantly if you started following the advice given in the book than you will definitely able to move out of the turbulent situation very easily. Or maybe they would not hit you as frequently they are hitting on you. 

Acceptance of death with a logical and relatively unruffled mind (tells how to practice death mentally like Stoic say, of course:-))

Between all of the Stoic I found Seneca most approaching and practical. Probably the Dover Edition you are getting which I personally read about 50 times.

The fifth book on Stoicism you should give it a try.



Seneca On Shortness of Life.

Timeless advice on the art of living well, from the celebrated Penguin Great Ideas series

The Problem Seneca urges to examine in our life to make it better are:

Ambition.

Giving all your time to others.

And engaging in vice.

He says we are not living our life we just got engaged with it and just living a short life. 

how do we regain the spent time? just by reading the philosophy and working towards it.

KEY LESSON FROM SENECA ON SHORTNESS OF LIFE:

You are the most important asset.

How little is left over for you.

How to live with duty and purpose.

Last but not the least books on Stoicism which I read.

Hope for best let’s get started without ant delay.

[thesquishywizard]

Broom Cupboard Witchery

I have been fairly lucky in my hidden practice as my special interests in animals, plants, fungi, geology and history have all allowed me to gather the information and materials I need for my practice.

However, I’d like to get a conversation going, I want to here about all the little things you do to keep up your practice and why you can’t practice openly.

I already said a little about why I can’t practice openly in the #30daysmagicalroots challenge, but I want to explain in a bit more detail why.

Why I can’t practice openly So I come from a household where religion is a bit of a messy subject. My mum was raised church of england and so were her parents (my grandparents) but none of them regularly go to church anymore as they feel they can be christian without having to go to a building once a week. However my dad is a strict catholic, my gran (his mum) is one of those people who hold the wine at communion and her father was a priest so.... hmmmm, I feel scared thinking about taling about magic openly with my dad.

Obviously christian and more specifically, catholic witches exist but my dad and gran have both made their feelings on magic quite clear and I unfortunately felt not wanted in the church anymore so found a new faith where I was.

I will say out of all the demoninations of christianity, catholism feels the most magical, I’ve been to a few shrines and they feel so weird in reflection, there is my gran (who I will say is quite clever but uses her knowledge badly I think) saying supersition is wrong and leads to bad things and there is a room full of candles because someone believes the water here is special? She got disappointed and nervous when my cousin James made friends with a lady who ran a rock shop but had labelled some of the stones with their possible magical uses. And then oh my gosh the conversations I’ve had with my dad. So one of them was last year when it was about two days before halloween (I don’t celebrate samhain or halloween because my dad has always hated halloween, and this where I learnt why) and we were in the car and my dad goes, “It annoys me so much that halloween, the day before All Saints Day is bigger, no one seems to care about the actual day.” So I carefully explained, terrified to show my hand and let people know i know about witchy things, that actually when christianity was being introduced to the UK many people believed that what is now halloween was when spirits came through, of any type and because the early church wanted to draw people in they set up a day for just nice spirits the day after and made that day about nasty spirits. My dad just went mhm. And that was that.

My mum on the hand is very much mocking of those who do magic or magic related stuff (card reading or crystal healing) and calls it mumbo-jumbo. Early on in my practice I did a lot of strong disavowal when the subject came up because I was so scared that I would sound sympathetic and be caught. Now I have changed this because I feel mean for joining in the mockery. Recently my mum went to hospital and there was a lady opposite who was telling someone to put amethyst over their bed or under there pillow to have better dreams and my mum said she was silly and dangerous because someone might not take medication. I stood up for her and said she obviously recognises that rocks can’t do everything otherwise she wouldn’t be in hospital to get herself better. My mum got a lot less mean about that kind of thing after then but she still thinks people are like silly little children for this kind of thing.

So that’s why I don’t practice openly. I would adore to tell my family one day, explain how my sigils remind me of my CBT sessions and help me talk my way through bad times, how praying to and communing with the Green Man has helped me take better care of my body and how my smooth tumblestones allow me to be calm and ground myself.

Day to day in my practice I mainly just draw sigils and sew or pyrography them about the place and do grounding with my stones. I sometimes cook with intent too, but I’m not a good cook and have a small pallet. When people aren’t here try to make little spells out in the garden, but it isn’t as much as I’d love to do.

Here’s some tips for magic users who don’t want to or can’t be open:

Say sigils are from a game or some other media. This is what I currently say. I play skyrim quite a bit so my mum knows about some of the stones where you can change your star sign so I lie and say they are those. I make rune based sigils so if you do similar but don’t play many games you could say they are from a fantasy series of books!

Take up geology. If you really love crystal magic I recommend looking into them in a geological way. I was already into them this way and so that’s how I got my rocks. If you don’t agree with common correspondances for crystals knowing where and how the rock is formed can help you make your own correspondances too!

Gardening can always fly under the radar. If you’re worried that you might be too obviously witchy with all the gardening you do, please don’t worry. So many people do gardening and many gardeners have their own little tricks to getting plants to be happy and healthy so bury egg shells just looks like food and giving them sun water (which distills it a little) just looks like special water that helps the plants.

Cottagecore is a great aesthetic to pair with magic. If you’re into this aesthetic embrace it fully. You can use it to explain why you dry plants or do so much cooking! If you do get questions I would even suggest showing the person a cottagecore blog and explain the cosy feelings you get from it. Obviously if you’re not into that aesthetic don’t force yourself.

Macrame is brilliant! This seventies trend has been back for quite a bit and is great for doing knot magic. Make friendship bracelets to protect your friends and plant pot holders to keep your plants strong.

Keep a digital grimore. This is the easiest way to keep it safe and you can even password protect it. A lot people get sad cus they can’t make pretty grimoires digitally, but who told you that? Edit images so they have old photo borders, draw digitally, experiment with fonts, and remember it doesn’t have to be done as a text document, you can make it a fancy slide show, a newsletter (if you have that special microsoft office pack) or a series of pictures done in an art program.

To all my fellow magic users in the broom cupboard, good luck, stay safe and I’d love to make friends and hear your thoughts!