BOBBLEHEAD

"Where did you find it?" asked Dr. Kaplan, the clinical psychologist.

"At a thrift shop," replied Dan. "The wife had been talking about maybe changing up the living room, so I was looking at love seats."

"What were you thinking when you saw it?"

"I thought it was hysterical. I mean, a bobblehead Satan? Who came up with an idea like that? To make a funny out of something so dastardly. I just had to have it."

"So," said Dr. Kaplan, "you thought of it as a joke."

"Right," said Dan.

"But obviously if it were just a joke, you wouldn't be here seeing me."

"Well, it didn't stay a joke."

"Why don't you tell me about that."

Dan sighed and rubbed his cheek. "I took it home, and put it by my computer in the study, so I could see it all the time and enjoy it. The wife hated it. She felt it was wicked and wanted me to throw it out. Keeping it in the study was a good way to keep it away from her, so she wouldn't bug me. It was fun bouncing the head. It would make me chuckle. It was kind of funny that it bugged Maggie.

"That night I had a terrible nightmare about the bobblehead. I dreamed it was laughing at me with its hideous oversized head and evil grin. It was nodding, "Yes, yes, I am coming for you," as if Satan were real.

I woke up in a sweat. I was really scared. I couldn't get back to sleep. I went into the study and looked at the Satan to assure myself that it was just plastic, with its funny little red suit and pitchfork tail. I mean, if there were a real Satan, I'm sure he wouldn't look silly like that. Looking at the little statue helped, but by that time, it was getting light outside.

All day, I kept thinking about the dream. And it was kind of a creepy paranoia, but I kept thinking the bobble head was looking at me. You must think I'm nuts."

"You aren't crazy," replied Dr. Kaplan. "It sounds like you were just stressed out. You had such a nightmare, and didn't get much sleep. Please go on."

"Well, by the late afternoon, I couldn't take it anymore. I put the Satan behind my copy of Moby Dick so he couldn't see me anymore. I mean, so I couldn't see him anymore. Suddenly I realized I had been at computer all day, working, and I got up to spend some time with the family. I really felt relieved.

"That night, the nightmare came again." Dan sighed. "I must have spent hours awake in bed, afraid to go back to sleep.

"It was the next day that the bad stuff started to happen. I just wasn't myself. I snapped at the kids, snapped at Maggie all day long. I mean for little things, like Susan came in to share a drawing with me, and instead of taking 10 seconds to tell her how beautiful it was, I told her can't you see that I'm working and leave me the hell alone. I'm telling you Dr. Kaplan, it was like that ALL DAY.

"Even though the bobblehead was behind the book, I still felt it watching me. It was bugging me to take it out again.

"I had a hard time eating. I just picked at the enchiladas. It was even harder to get to sleep, seriously, but I was also so, so tired And yeah, the nightmare came again, and this time it was worse: I knew he wanted to destroy me, to kill me.

"My work is suffering. I can't concentrate anymore. I'm yelling at the kids all the time. Last night I never went to sleep at all. I've stopped eating. Yeah, I took the Satan out again. It's like I have to have him, even though he's destroying me." Dan looked down at the floor. "The worst thing is that I slapped Maggie.

"You got to help me. I'm going nuts. I've never believed in God or Satan or anything like that. But now I just don't know. Does Satan exist? Is he really after me? Or am I imagining all this? I just don't know what to believe, so I don't know what to do."

"Does it matter whether it is true or not?" asked Dr. Kaplan. "Perhaps this is simply a case of bad dreams and sleep deprivation, which has radically altered your perceptions and ability to deal with stress. Most regrettably. Or perhaps it is as you perceive. Either way you are being corrupted. You need to do something about it. What do you think you can do?"

"I took the bobblehead over to the trashcan, but just couldn't throw it in. It's still on the shelf by my computer. Somehow, I have the feeling that even if I managed to throw it in the trash, I would take it out again. What I really need to do is destroy it. Oh my God, that sounds so dramatic."

"Not at all. As a Satan figure, it represents your dark side, everything about you that is destructive and chaotic. You have given it life. It really doesn't matter whether it's actually Satan or your imagination. It's real to you. It makes sense that it requires something concrete and tangible to reverse the effect."

"But," said Dan, "I don't think I could destroy it. I feel like an idiot, but honestly I couldn't even drop it into the trash, so how could I destroy it?"

"How could you destroy it? I'm sure you have some ideas."

Dan thought for a moment. "I could ask my wife to do it for me. She could take a hammer to it. Maybe just begin to. Maybe once she starts, I could finish it."

"That sounds like a good plan. I think your nightmares and insomnia will stop. And you'll find that you are your old self again."

"You know, you're wrong Doc. I can tell you don't actually buy it that it's Satan. It isn't just me putting my own crap onto an evil statue. The more I think about this, the more I listen to myself talk, the more I think this is real. What's happened is just too extreme for it to be psychological crapola. It's real."

"I'm sure it's real to you, and that's all I care about," said Dr. Kaplan. "I think that's all the time we have for today. I'll be very interested to learn how this all turns out. You can make your next appointment at the front desk.