Goodman No More

I was going through the usually swing of work today when I got a call in my office. It was from my department head, asking if I would analyze a new patient that had just been admitted into the institution. Sighing deeply, I gathered my things and headed to the room where I would meet my patient. When I entered the room, there was a middle aged man in the corner. As I pulled out my clip board to scan over his records, I peeked over my notes and noticed that this man was extremely pale, as if he had been spooked by a ghost.

“They all have fallen to the devil! CAST DOWN YOUR WAYS NOW FAITH!” the pale man screeched randomly in my direction.

“Mr. Goodman?” I said shakily, trying to compose myself. “I’m not Faith, I’m Ms. Vega and I’m here to talk to you today.”

“By the Gods, I can’t go back; the sins of my people are overwhelming. The have condemned themselves to the pits of Hell where they will lift their eyes to the gods and beg for mercy! I relive that horrid night as the days pass on! I rebuke the madness, the pure evil of—“

I stood there in awe as he ranted on and on about his people and the sins they had committed. I was trying to calm him, but when I tried, he threw his chair and flipped the table that he was seated at. I instinctively ran from the room, slamming the door behind me so he could not follow and called security.

“Are you alright Ms. Vega?” the tall guard yelled from down the hall.

“Yes fine, I just need the patient restrained so he does not hurt himself or anyone else.”

“Yes ma’am.” He assured me as he entered the room followed by a second security guard.

I figured that my patient would need time to cool off and settle down after the commotion, so I decided to go to my boss’s office and ask him a few questions. When I entered his office I could already tell he knew what had happened by the expression on his face. We discussed the whole situation and that’s when I found out why he acted the way he did. Mr. Goodman had supposedly witnessed an evil ceremony where his wife was being converted into witch and had fallen into the devil’s hands. He supposedly had been in the ceremony too but resisted this devil; he has been startled by this event ever since.

I returned to the room where Goodman had been placed, and when I entered I saw that they had been fitted in a straitjacket, for his own safety.  

“Mr. Goodman, are you feeling better?”

“Yes, to a degree, but why must I be kept in these conditions? I am not the one who should be detained and locked away! Those devil worshipers back in my village should—“

“This is about you Goodman, not your town.” I interrupted.  “Tell me, do you always get worked up at the thought of your past experiences?”

“That’s absurd! I have been exposed to evil enchantments and you feel as though I am the problem? I cannot even sleep at night because of the ceremony that was performed that night.
Oh my poor Faith, how could she, HOW COULD SHE—“

Goodman was getting more worked up with each word he spoke and it was becoming clear to me what he could have been suffering from.  People who go back and forth between periods of a very good or irritable mood and depression usually suffer from bipolar disorder. Mr. Goodman had no previous records of this disorder so I pondered how he could have developed this issue now.

As I was thinking, I recalled our first encounter, where he mistook me for his wife Faith, and also how he said that he relived the night of his so called trauma day to day. My theory was that whatever had happened to him that night left him with PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder. This disorder usually occurs when one is subjected to a very traumatizing experience. Based on Mr. Goodman’s stress levels, anxiety, and temper I had concluded to myself that he suffers from PSTD, and from this he has developed bipolar symptoms.

The entire time of my brain storming Mr. Goodman was still ranting.

“—the devil from that night shall pay for what he has done to me and my people! He will see justice—”

“Mr. Goodman that is enough.” I interrupted, “I believe you, and we will take care of this situation for you. All I ask is that you trust me and everything will be taken care of sir.”

This seemed to calm him because he stopped yelling aimlessly. I jotted my theory down quickly so I wouldn’t forget and called the moving staff to assist Goodman in getting to his room safely. As I left the room I had a good feeling that my boss would enjoy what I had to tell him later on in my board meeting that evening…