The therapist sitting and listen to me bemoan my failures to keep my emotions in check in public and having stimulation issues. You see with my autism I struggle more than most with taste, touch, smells and sounds. I hadn't even taken a step to enter my brother's room one time to be hit by a huge wave of cinnamon with my brother not noticing the smell and realizing my reaction. The shocked reaction from me with realizing him not noticing. These are the more mild issues sadly. As I get done explaining the issues she pulls out a mask from her bag. Now keep in mind; I know this isn't normal and she had only been on my radar due to her hours being cheap and easy to get a hold of.
Her long orange hair was wild but well washed and seemed to be quite frail and slender. The skin pale as paper. The smile a bit too sharp but this all was shrugged off by me; even with the rusty smell that filled the air around her.
Her sharp tooth grin as explaining, "this is a masking tool; this will help you with dealing with emotional dysregulations." I'm hesitant at first with taking it.
I ask, "won't I look silly wearing a mask in public?" She shakes her head. Then putting on the mask with it going from a stage mask to blending in and morphing to her face and skin; looks as if she never put on a mask. Her eating and drinking like it's nothing. Then taking it off, wiping it off and handing it to me.
At first I'm scared but thinking about my failures and things I've wanted to do.
She explains, "this will help with your troubles with dating now." At that point I cave, with it getting on my face. It hurt, feeling like hot metal pitch forks digging into my flesh like it's digging into me. Then turns to pleasure and a high like never before. The therapist smiles to me; leading me out the door. At home with the mask, taking it off; which again still hurt like hell and I'm feeling drained, my brain starting to fog. I start brushing my teeth, almost missing my mouth as I do so. It's not hard to imagine something so simple being forgotten but still feels unnerving this is the case.
Imagine something that anchors down your senses, your sense of self; parts of you. Things you don't notice like dinosaur arms, walking on the heels of your feet and having yourself less stressed by certain smells. At first it's great; why wouldn't it be? At work my flirting and confidence gets around at the office with my boss even getting off my back for once and even not getting talked to about my "attitude" with me just having my resting face being my usual self. It feels good to be treated like another coworker.
However over time you start to feel a split; a mental disconnect while wearing the mask, each time I've put this thing on; it's been harder and harder to take off. One day I had woken up to the mask being on my face; this shouldn't be alarming to me but the thing is; this was never put on my face while on my days off from work.
Some part of me thinking, "I've must've forgotten to take this off" which the other deeper part of me knows that'd be a lie to think. Now as of taking it off feels as if nails are being dug into my skin; digging deeper and deeper with pulling it off getting harder. The longer it's remained on my face; the more I'd black out and the more blacking out; the less to remember. The thoughts and feelings that don't feel like me, don't feel like mine. After some time of being in my apartment I decide to go to the bar.
From there noticing some cute girls nearby; my mask forced prolonged eye contact with people, a little bit too long for my liking, followed by the jokes and quips that come from my mouth as I flirt with women. These movements of mine aren't though; the mask's movements and sly winks to the ladies. However it helped me get someone back to my place; even if I can't remember what was said, what was felt in that moment; it remembers for me at least and live through the memory like a kid watching an R rated movie on the big screen.
Once she takes her leave I'm alone once again; then later looking in the mirror to see the same tired face underneath that mask, from the front and center is a smiling idiot. The mask speaks, "isn't this new us wonderful!"
In my mind shouting back, "this isn't us! This isn't me!"
It smiles and calmly answers, "oh but it is now!"
Feral barks from me, "give me back my body!"
The mask ask, "haven't you been happier with me? More successful in your job? With women as well?"
At this I'm trothing at the mouth, "it doesn't matter if I'm more successful if I'm not happy! If I'm not me!"
A sly smile comes across my face and answers back calmly once more, "Oh but who needs to be happy? You weren't seeking happiness, you wanted success in these areas; did you not?" No answer back as the strength is found within me to tear off this mask.
The mask screaming, begging, "stop! Stop! Stop! You'll kill me! You'll kill what we worked for!" The tears in my eyes as the pain surges through every part of me as if I'd been trying to rip off an arm, going into the kitchen and grabbing a knife; carefully stabbing the mask as it bleeds and trying not to stab myself. However as I'd do so; it's own sharp appendages stab me back with us going blow for blow as finally the mask cracks; shattering with it coming off my face.
When going back to the therapist office to confront her to find her gone, without a trace. Every time I'd dream; from time to time I'd see that same mask, a part of sees a small white mask piece left on my face but that could just be my imagination.
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