Constance Lytton -- D4 -- fin

c o n s t a n c e lytton.

To: Constance Lytton
From: Dr. Vincent

5 River side Drive
City centre
6021

I was 12 when I first found out. My hands held the envelope, my fingers eager to rip into the paper and pull out the treasure that was hidden within. Mum and Dad hadn’t known that I had gone to see someone, a psychologist. They didn’t have a clue. For days I have gotten up earlier than my whole house hold and sat by the window, in silence, my eyes scanning the empty streets that lay beyond the secure walls of my home. I had been waiting for that one person, that one person who carried that letter, that one that was had been held in my tight grasp. I had known I was different, I was not the same as everyone else. Mum and dad had refused to believe me, they refused to believe that their only son had issues. It had hurt, but I had learnt to overcome their disappointment, I had learnt to look into their eye, and see past the dissatisfaction. My sister had understood more; yes one was a year younger- the other a year older- but they had still understood, understood my inner conflict when I told them that I was different, that I had a condition. They had understood. I smile. But my smile has no warmth behind it- no emotion. It was nothing but a reflex, something that I had trained my body to do.

Holding my breath, I had ripped open the envelop, my shaky fingers reached in, grabbed the paper scribbled with messy handwriting. It read:

Constance,

I know it must have been hard for you to some see me, but I think that you made the right decision in seeking my help and for that I could not have enough respect for you. Since the last time I saw you I have been working extremely hard to figure out what may be wrong with you. At first I thought that you had depression. The results to all your tests pointed me in that direction… But there was still something off, something that got me thinking. You said to me, ‘that pleasure is something that you have never experienced’, and that is not under the description of depression. Let me try to explain, depression, by definition, is a mental condition characterized by severe feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy, typically accompanied by a lack of energy and interest in life. but from what I have gathered from your data, as well as the results from your tests, is that in fact, your energy levels have not dropped, and you don’t exactly feel down all the time.

Trust me, this confused me greatly.

But after a bit more research I think I might have been able to identify your… condition. You see, your condition, it is not something that I have come across, but past records from doctors, and other physiologists over the past match the notes that I have taken for you. I apologise for all this language- I know you are only young, and I have trouble expressing in words what I am trying to say, but I’m going to give it my best shot. So I have come down to the conclusion that you are suffering from a condition called anhedonia. In psychology and psychiatry, anhedonia is defined as the inability to experience pleasure from activities usually found enjoyable, e.g. exercise, hobbies, music, sexual activities or social interactions. So what does this mean? This means that your body isn’t producing the hormones that make you happy. For instant, when someone eats chocolate, their body releases endorphins, this makes them happy. But in your case, when you eat chocolate, your body isn’t producing those endorphins, thus you don’t engage in that sense of pleasure.

I know that this letter must be confusing and rushed so I have arrange a time to meet you. In about half a year, when you will understand things a bit easier. Don’t think about this too much, I’ll be in touch. If you have any questions or queries, just send me a quick letter and I’ll do my best to respond.

See you in soon.

Dr. Vincent.

The letter had left me more confused than ever. I had sat on my bed that day, my mind running over all the things that he had told me. It was true. I was different. I was not that normal kid. Somewhere deep inside me I had hoped that it was nothing; I had hoped that I was just getting all worked up over nothing. I had hoped. But of course, like many other things in life, hope just wasn’t enough. Hope wasn’t going to get you through this life. Hope was basically a dream people had, nothing more. just a dream. A dream I had falsely believed in.

But contemplating repeatedly what was wrong with me, wasn’t going to help me. I knew that, of course I knew that, but I was only 12, I was lost, and there was something wrong with me that didn’t allow me to feel pleasure, happiness. And it sorta hurt. I saw other kids my age and they were all smiling lips turned up, eye warm, full of light. And then I would turn my full lips so that they weren’t facing downwards, but tilted up slightly… But it didn’t feel right- it never felt right. I just wanted to know what it felt like, to be happy.

But what was hardest was that I had so many questions, questions that had no answers. So after a few months- after I could take it no longer-I sat down at the small desk in my room, a pen in my hand, paper ready to have my questions etched into its very being.

Doctor,

Please help me. I have so many questions, so many, and I just don’t know what to do. I am lost. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I feel like the other kids? I sorta get what you were trying to say, but all the words, they are so big, and I don’t really understand much. I see other kids on the streets, they smile, but when I smile, I don’t feel anything, only this unnatural feeling, is that how others eel? what am I kidding, the look, I don’t know how to describe it, happy? Why cant I feel that way? I told my sister, and showed her the letter. You see she is only a year older than me, so she understood as much as I did, which was like nothing. But she has tried to be supportive and not tell mum and dad, who knows who they would react… they would probably want me to leave the house, or something…


How long will it last? Will- will I get better? Will I ever be happy? Will one day when I smile I will actually feel something? why did it happen to me? why me, doctor? did I do something wrong, and this is some sort of punishment? I kicked a kid in the balls once, but this seems kinda harsh- doesn't it? Doctor... Doctor please, please tell me, will I ever be happy, feel pleasure?

~Constance

---

Constance,

I am sorry that your questions have gone un-answered for so long. I wish that could of changed, but I felt you weren’t ready. But now, reading your numerous questions, I fear that I may have been wrong, and I apologise for that. So instead of answering your questions here in writing, I want you to come see me as soon as possible.

Dr. Vincent.

---

Doctor,

I'll see you tomorrow at 3:00pm

~Constance

That’s when I finally got to really understand what was wrong with me, I finally really got to know that I was a child who was going through something that was relatively new to the doctors, going through something which was not fully understandable for anyone. That day I learnt so much about myself. I learnt that I would never know what it feels like to be happy, I learnt that I would never get to experience the things in life that make one smile. It hurt, and boy was it frustrating. But I learnt to live around, I learnt how to cope, how to make life work.

* * *

CONSTANCE LYTTON

PROFILE



Doctor: Vincent
Patient: Constance Lytton
Condition: Anhedonia
Age: 17
District: 4
Family: Mother, father, two sisters
Blood type: A+
Hair colour: Black
Muscle build: Medium
Fitness Level: High
Pesonality traits: Void of happiness, smart, cocky, people fear him
Eye color: Hazel/green
Height: 2.1m
Weight: 85 kg
Notes:

~ first time we met
- 12 years old
- nervous
- shows lack of emotions in the positive range
- depression, maybe
- mother and father disapprove of the thought that their might be something serious wrong with their only son

~Second meeting
- still shows no sign of warmth
- gaze is void of life- cold
- after showing varies pictures to the boy, depression is looking more accurate

~ Third meeting
- Still no happiness or excitement in the boys intentions
- pretty confident his condition is depression

~ fourth meeting
- he told me something interesting, that he doesnt feel pleasure. Not really a symptom of depression, maybe I have it wrong

~ letter
- it took a long time to figure out, but I think I have the answer now
- rare condition, one that hasn't been around in a long time; my curiosity was spiked

~half a year later
- I meet with the boy once again, to explain his condition, he seemed to handle it well.

~16 years past
- due for another meeting soon, eager to see how he has cope.