You threw Sigmund against the wall, choking him as you do.
"You have to... Gah... Understand! *cough* I couldn't *wheeze* trust you... With all your mental conditions!"
You pull him back and throw him across his desk, scattering papers and documents of other patients.
"Please! *cough* You must understand! You must!"
You placed both your hooves onto his neck and pressed down.
"Oh, I understand. Completely!" you yelled as you push down harder.
Sigmund tries gasping for air, only spitting out blood as he does. You're covered in his blood, from all over your body. Sigmund struggles under your hooves, trying to break free to no avail. And finally, he stops. You release your grasp from his neck and sigh.
"This is rather early. I thought we had arranged to monthly meetings." you hear as you're brought back into reality.
Sitting in Sigmund's office, you notice that his interior hasn't changed much from his last office. He still had the frames and degrees, showing of his Ph.D's in the field of psychology. He also had a picture of himself from his younger years. Even younger then when you had been in the old hospital. His desk was cluttered with stacks of papers and documents. Most likely patients that he's been able to successfully help. You had wondered if any of the patients had any similar cases to the one you have. But you doubt that any patients had their parents killed and are now living the rest of their lives within a mental institution. No, you were unique.
"So, pray tell," Sigmund begins to ask as he sits down, "what have you come to tell me?"
"Strange. He sounds annoyed. Just like the cyan pegasus had wh-... Why? Why is she constantly invading me thoughts?" you thought to yourself. You continue to question why Sigmund had sounded annoyed.
"Is it because he expects me to barely say anything at all? Well, isn't he about to be in for a surprise." you continue in your thoughts.
And you were right. You were ready to release all your pent up anger unto Sigmund. You slowly opened your mouth.
"I know, Sigmund." you muttered, giving him one last chance to confess.
"Oh, what is it that you know?" he questioned.
And in one, single, fluid movement, you arose from your seat and leaned against his desk, and bellowed, "I know about your plans, Sigmund! I know about the two pegasi you had follow me! I know all about it!"
And, just like before, everything had gone quiet. You focused your attention to Sigmund, whose composure had not changed whatsoever. His calm, collected demeanor had bothered you. Had he not heard a word you've said? You were about to project yourself again, when Sigmund had spoken.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you speak of." Sigmund, again, keeping his calm behavior.
Liar. He must be lying. There was no way possible that you could be wrong. No, he knows. You just had to keep pressuring him. He'd eventually crack, and you'd expose the truth.
"Sigmund. Why did you have those two pegasi follow me?! The yellow and cyan ones?! You didn't think I would notice?" you question, ever so persistent.
And again, Sigmund had not changed his expression in the slightest. His composure, unaltered. Could you have been wrong? Had you made a fool of yourself to both the yellow and cyan pegasus? In front of Sigmund? You had never been wrong before, at least not in the hospital. You were always right when accusing one of lying. This feeling of erroneous was new. However, it wasn't pleasurable. In fact, it was mortifying, another feeling you've never experienced. Why does it bother you? You couldn't care less about the opinions of others, pertaining to yourself. So why had it bothered you now?
"Would you care to explain to me, what it is I have done?" asked Sigmund, positioning himself to get comfortable.
You searched. And searched. And searched for any hint, even the smallest hint that Sigmund was lying about not knowing what you spoke of. You looked for any sort of twitch, from his ears, to his eyes, to his hooves, and nothing. Sigmund was telling the truth. You had been wrong. All your anger, unjustified. All your accusations, incorrect. And when you brought your attention to Sigmund, he had been sitting, waiting patiently for you to explain.
How could you even begin to explain your ignorance? You took your trust of Sigmund for granted. How could you ever expect Sigmund to forgive you? And now you had to defend yourself. You fell back into the chair, in awe of your mistake. You looked back towards Sigmund, who was still waiting for an explanation. Why had his look bothered you? It was as if he was your father, scolding you for stealing something as insignificant as candy. For as strange as this analogy seemed to you, it felt natural. Sigmund had always been somewhat of a father-figure towards you. He was the only one who ever really wanted to help you, perhaps that is why he seemed to you like as one.
And now, you had to explain to your "father" why you had accused of him of betraying your trust. You let your head drop, and took a deep breath.
"I... *sigh* I had thought that you had sent two pegasi to follow me, so that you could watch over me. It seemed to be too much of a coincidence for everything that had happened to have happened. When the yellow pegasus had mentioned Cloudsdale, and her behavior towards me, it seemed that as if you had told them everything about me, and my past, as far as you can remember. It seemed as if you had told her to gain my trust, so that I could start developing my communication skills so that I could become integrated with society. All of this, had seemed planned. I had jumped to a conclusion without evaluating the consequences of my accusations. I'm... I'm sorry, Sigmund."
As you started to raise your head, you had expected Sigmund to be infuriated, and he had every right to be. When you closed in on him, he opened his mouth, and began speaking.
"There is no need to apologize. However, I would appreciate it if you were to explain what had exactly happened over these last two days."
Shocked and awed. Those were the only words that could explain your reaction. Had Sigmund really forgiven you so easily? How was it possible?
"Well... When I left the hospital..." you began. You explained every little detail from the past two days. You started with the journey to the small town, then, when you had flown for the first time, followed by the cyan pegasus incident. You then went on to explain what had happened when you had accepted the help of Fluttershy, and when you had thought up of the conspiracy-like theory. You also mentioned when the cyan pegasus had chased you, and when you had escaped her.
" I understand why you would assume for those sequences of events to be a plan that I had put into place. Your first encounter with another pony shouldn't have gone like that. I'm assuming that the little incident is how you injured your hoof." Sigmund said as he gestured to your hoof.
"Uh... Yes. And, it was the yellow pegasus that wrapped it up in this cloth." you responded.
"Hmm. And, she was gentle and patient, correct?"
You simply nodded.
"Well, for as adventurous and as mentally stressful these past few days have been for you, I must admit that I'm glad they happened."
You were about to ask why he was glad, when he began to explain himself.
"If you haven't noticed, this is by far the longest conversation we have ever held, and perhaps even the longest you have ever had." Sigmund proudly stated.
And he was right. Not once had you ever held a conversation so long and meaningful as the one you had now. How was it possible? It didn't make any sense.
"How is it possible, Sigmund? I hardly spoke a word these last two days." the words flowing without lag from your mouth, unlike they had before. Now that you were consciously aware that you were speaking flawlessly, it felt awkward to do so. How ironic. When it had felt odd to speak at all, you now felt unnatural being able to speak normally.
You had to know how could it be. The confusion and mystery that had surrounded these last two days was another source of anger that was slowly building up, but you could contain that. At least you hope you could.
"According to your accounts, something gave you the confidence to speak, so that you wouldn't have to question your words. Which event had accomplished this, I'm not certain. It might have been the cyan pegasus. You say that you did yell at her, and even in the form of aggression, it could have stopped your fear of communication. On the other hand, you did accept the help of the yellow pegasus, which, on a side-note, is a major advancement in social interaction." deciphered Sigmund.
Was it really that simple? Did yelling at the cyan pegasus really restore your confidence to communicate with others? Or was it accepting the help of Fluttershy? After all, years of medical and psychological practice had stated that you were unable to communicate with others. How could their diagnosis been wrong? Again, you asked another questioned.
"What about when I was chased by the cyan pegasus? When I had started flying... That wasn't me. I know that wasn't me. The things I did in the air, those maneuvers. Something had taken control."
It felt strange. Speaking. Such a simple action that you've lost the ability to perform, to be presented in such a manner. This would take some time for you to get used to. When you redirected your attention to Sigmund, he chuckled for a moment, and started to explain.
"That has a rather simple explanation. This seems to be a case of implicit memory, in which something you had done in the past, in this case, flying, carries over help with the same task in the future, even if you have no memory of doing that in the past. In your case, those "maneuvers" you spoke of, must have been performed when you were a foal. And your implicit memory of those maneuvers aided you." Sigmund said, as if he was lecturing.
These answers. They hardly satisfied you. However, you had to accept the fact that they answered your questions, regardless of their simplicity. After spending years trying to find the answers to why the way you are, it was a bit disappointing to realize that the answers were not as complex as you had imagined.
"What about the cyan pegasus?" you simply questioned.
"What about this cyan pegasus?"
"Why is she constantly on my mind? Even through the pain of the crash, and in the home of the yellow pegasus, she was still on my mind. Even now, she is! Why?"
"As much as you probably don't want to hear this, she was your very first interaction in the outside world. And if you've read your case file, which I'm assuming you still have?" asked Sigmund.
"Yes, and I've read it." you bluntly replied.
"Well, you have a few forms of amnesia, but in this case, it involves your anterograde amnesia, which is your ability to form new memories. And again, referring back to your case file, your form of anterograde amnesia hinders your ability, however, only to a certain extent. Only significant events are memorized. And, I would assume that your first form of interaction is significant. So, unlike many other things that your amnesia would not record, this event was significant, and was therefore, stored. And it seems that the greatest significance from the cyan pegasus incident was the cyan pegasus, which is why she is on your mind. Whether you like it or not, you've created a relationship with her, a rather negative one, but she may be the center of your thoughts for a very long time."
The thought of the cyan pegasus invading your mind, and staying there for as long as she wanted was uncomfortably disturbing. You hated her, and she was to be in your thoughts, for an incredibly long time.
"Is there anything else you need to know?" questioned Sigmund.
"What about my dream?" you asked.
"Which one? The one about your parents?"
The dream. The strange dream you had one night ago. It has almost slipped your memory, but you barely remember it. Had you forgot to tell Sigmund about it? Nevertheless, you'll tell him now.
"No, a different one." you replied. Again, this feeling of being able to converse was still a bit unnerving. And as you looked towards Sigmund, his face seemed to have lit up with amazement.
"You had a different dream?! Well, please! Explain it to me!" Sigmund quickly replied.
And you tried to gather every piece of information you could remember from the memory. Your amnesia wasn't helping, but you could only one remember specific name from the event.
"I can't remember much from the dream. I heard... Two voices, an incredibly loud one, and one that felt familiar. What they said... I don't know, except the loud voice had said, "Cloudsdale." you explained.
This was when Sigmund had reached over to his cabinet and pulled out a tan folder, similar to your case file folder, except lighter. He practically threw it onto his desk and began furiously flipping through pages. When he finally stopped, he stayed quiet for a second, and began speaking again.
"So, you didn't have the dream about your parents? The one you've had for every night?" he questioned again.
"No. I didn't have the dream."
Sigmund stoop up from his chair and began pacing the room.
"This is strange. Something that happened to you these last two days triggered an unconscious memory. One, strong enough to suppress your old dream!" giving emphasis to his last sentence.
Before you were able to speak, Sigmund had started again, still pacing.
"Perhaps the key to repressing your memory of your parents' death is not through direct suppression, but rather, by unlocking older memories that are currently repressed!" Sigmund exclaimed, as if he had unlocked the answer to the universe. Which, in retrospect, may very well be the answer to YOUR universe.
"If this method can truly suppress your memory, then I suggest that we immediately start attempting to restore your memories before the accident." Sigmund proposed.
Sigmund had stopped pacing, and returned to his chair, adjusting himself into the same position he had when you had told your story.
"Now, I suggest that we do not rush into this. So, from what you've said, interacting with other ponies may or may have not triggered this memory. If this is what provoked the release of the memory, then I suggest that you start interacting with other ponies. This should be easier now, what with your ability to communicate freely being returned." explained Sigmund.
Other ponies. You were, somewhat, glad to be able to communicate, but that hardly meant that you would communicate with others. In fact, the only reason you were glad, was that you would be able to tell other ponies to "piss off", figuratively speaking.
"Sigmund, I refuse to speak with anypony." you objected.
Sigmund glared at you, arose from his chair, and spoke.
"Refuse? You refuse? So, what you're saying is that you refuse to become mentally stable?"
Had Sigmund just mocked you? How dare he. After years of telling you that your social skills, or lack thereof, were inept, he expects you to just begin to speak with others without fail?
"Sigmund, I can't just walk up to anypony and start communicating with them! Wasn't it you that had said that I would be unable to do so?" you retorted.
"Oh, for Celestia's sake, if you ever want to be cured of your psychological disorders, then you need to accept the fact that we have to try every method possible! And if that method includes communicating with every damn pony in Equestria, then you will communicate with every last pony!" Sigmund shouted.
That was the first time Sigmund had ever yelled at you. Honestly, it had almost scared you. But it wasn't so much fear, as it was stunning.
"I... I must apologize for that. It's that... We have tried for years to help you. And now, we have something to work with. I should have been more considerate of your mental conditions. We do not have to start immediately, but... If we do not take this oppu-"
"Sigmund. I'll do it. If this is what takes to restore my memory, I suppose there is no extreme harm that could come out of it." you replied.
"Excellent! You will see that this may prove to be a fruitful endeavor. There may be hope for you after all." Sigmund said.
Hope. The way he had worded his sentence. Was he beginning to lose hope in you?
"Since we're going to attempt this approach, there are a few things we should just adjust. First off, I'm going to give you a notebook, to record your memories, should they change. Considering your amnesia, you may forget a few specifics from the dream. Therefore, as soon as you awake from your dream, record every bit of information you can remember. Also, I suggest that we change our monthly appointments to weekly appointments. I feel that this way, I can keep track of your progress and see whether or not that this new method is effective. Are you fine with that?" Sigmund questioned.
Could you really say no to any of this? After the way he had reacted to your defiance, you couldn't disagree.
Sigmund searched his drawers of his desk, and pulled out a rather old notebook. It had a hardback, leather cover, and was a bit dusty. He shook it off, and handed it over to you, along with a few pens. You took them and placed them inside your saddlebag. As you opened it, it seemed to remind Sigmund of your antidepressants.
"Oh, for the record, have you been taking your antidepressants?"
"Yes, I've taken them. Although, I haven't taken them today." you replied, as you pulled out the small bottle. You popped the cap open, and paused.
"Damn. How many was it?" you thought to yourself.
"It's... Two a day." Sigmund responded, hesitatingly.
"Right." you said as you pulled out two and swallowed them.
"Do not worry. Eventually, it'll become a routine for you. Repetition is a method of creating a short-term memory into a long-term memory. With time, you'll be able to easily remember the amount per day." Sigmund ensured you.
You place the bottle back into your saddlebag, and strapped it shut. You began to trot to the door, until you were halted by Sigmund's voice once more. However, you only listened, and did not turn towards him.
"Remember, once a week. However, if something occurs in which you need to contact me before our designated appointment, do not hesitate. But, in moderation, once a week." Sigmund repeated.
You didn't say anything. You simply opened the door to his office, and exited. It was then when you realized your mistake.
"What did I just agree to?" you thought to yourself.