MEDLOG AUTOMATED TRANSCRIPTION SERVICES

SESSION INFORMATION

CLIENT: HATHIAN PSYCHIATRIC

PATIENT (PT): GYPSY QUELLER

THERAPIST (TH): DR. DIP LYNAGH

DATE OF SESSION: 04/12/09

SYSTEM PARAMETERS: LANGUAGE DETECT/ENGLISH LINE RETURN DELAY/.3 SECONDS SILENCE THRESHOLD: -5.4 DB FILE FORMAT: MS WORD

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[SESSION TEXT]

1| TH: This is Dr. Lynagh with patient Gypsy Queller on April twelveth, two-thousand and nine at approximately two thirty pm. I am setting out a chair in the middle of the room for a Gastalt session. Don't worry about this, I'll explain later. So.. in short review. What have you done since we last met, have you being doing things that are in your opinion positive or negative as to your goals in this therapy?

2| PT: I've been keeping busy with work.

3| TH: How's it been with the meds? You should be at your final dose level now, feeling comfortable with it? I know that weight gain is the most common complaint with patients, usually.. If it becomes a problem...we can always switch. You're the customer here.

4| PT: I didn't want to gain the weight. I don't work out much. [SILENCE] I'm sure you'd understand. [LAUGHTER]

5| TH: We could change... [SILENCE] [SHUFFLING OF NOISE]

[STATIC OF A TAPE BEING PLAYED. TWO SEPERATE VOICES. IDENTIFIED: GYPSY QUELLER, DR. CHARLES INGRID] "All right, Gypsy. Let's play that game. -All right, Doctor. Let's play that game."

6| PT: [SILENCE]

7| TH: Could you tell me more about this recording, Gypsy?

8| PT: Aye. That's Dr. Ingrid. I miss that man. [SILENCE] [LAUGHTER] He liked to play games. So? [PAUSE] You like to play games, Doctor?

9| TH: No, not games. I like to keep it honest. That said, I would have a request for you, I'd like you to try something. Focus on that chair please.. and if we could have.. this Orly person.. walking into the room and sit on the chair.

10| PT: [SILENCE] ...She doesn't fucking want to....

11| TH: [SILENCE]

12| PT: [SEARCHING SYSTEM...VOICE UNIDENTIFIED] You... just... love... to fucking piss us off don't you?

13|TH: [SILENCE] There you are Orly... [SILENCE] I'd like to know more about you. Do you know who you are? Because I have this idea, please consider this: You are Gypsy's consicience.

14|PT: [LAUGHTER] I... am her creator. I... am her confidence. I... am everything you wished you could be. [SILENCE] Don't think I haven't noticed you. Fucking sitting over there in that shirt that fucking screams 'rape me'. You sit at home at night just wishing, begging you could be half the woman I've made Gypsy. I can just imagine you taking her files home for study and it ends in a masturbation, you rolling over and turning off the light because you're fucking spent [SILENCE] Come on, Doctor. Just cock a feel. I won't tell her...

15|TH: [SILENCE] You are the bad thoughts she isn't supposed to have. You are the broken toys she puts away in a closet. You are the voice in her head that wanted to be heard but she refused, so you started shouting. Do you think you are a bad person? [SILENCE] You have to be nice to her, Orly. She'll listen to you.. but nobody likes to be insulted. You need to talk to her, not argue. See.. you are her. You are a construct. Of a mind that could not handle the thoughts that you consider a separate self, you are an isolated thought process. Without Gypsy you are no more. Not the other way around. Be nice to her.

16|PT: [SILENCE] [INAUDIBLE NOISE] Listen, fucking BITCH! I'm sick and fucking TIRED of your babble bull shit! You only wish I was in your head. Admit it. FUCKING ADMIT IT! [SILENCE] Dr. Ingrid. Dr. Lynagh. Your all the fucking same to me... Fucking static when I'm trying to watch a perfectly good show. You just get in the way. Blur her vision. Make-things-difficult. [SILENCE] I can fuck you up right now if I wanted to. Shove gasoline down your fucking throat and light a match on those pretty fucking teeth. Cut off your breasts and sew them into lampshades. Sew those glaring fucking eyes shut once and for all. Why the fuck do you have to stare at me all the time? [INAUDIBLE MUMBLES]

17|TH: [SILENCE] Orly... [SILENCE] You can go back to Gypsy now if you want. She wanted to come to this therapy. Because of Travis. [SILENCE] I can admit I want you or admire you but is that something you need to accomplish?

18|PT: [LAUGHTER] FUCK TRAVIS! And FUCK you... I'll leave when I'm good and fucking ready. I CONTROL HER... NOT the other way around.. -DOCTOR- [SILENCE] Your fear smells worse than fucking roadkill, bitch. I've already accomplished everything I've needed to. Now fucking say it. SAY IT!

19|TH: [SILENCE] I want you... [SILENCE] I admire you.. for being strong... [COUGHING] And attractive and thin, all I wanted, maybe more, I'm..[SILENCE] sorry I couldn't help you.

20|PT: FUCKING NASTY! [LAUGHTER] And here I fucking thought they wouldn't trust Gypsy with another penis! [LAUGHTER]

21|TH: [SILENCE]

22|PT: [INAUDIBLE NOISE] [SILENCE]

23|TH: Gypsy? [SILENCE] If you could move back to the sofa...

23|PT: [SILENCE] The fuck...

23|TH:I could switch you to [SILENCE] ...a combinaton of Lithium and Abilify. Practically.. no complaints of weight .. gain.. on that one. [SILENCE] [SOBBING] If you want this outpatient therapy to work, you have to work together with me. Without the meds, you'll continue the same path you've been on. It's the most important decision of your life.

24|PT: [SILENCE] The fuck... [SILENCE] Aye. Sure. Whatever.

25|TH: [SILENCE] Alright Gypsy.. well... done. We'll see you.. next time.

26| [TRANSCRIPT ENDS]

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[14:09] Gypsy Queller avoided eye contact with the cell she knew too well as she made her way into the office she couldn't stand. Why was she doing this again? Ah yes. For Travis. She tried to keep the end result in mind as she pushed through the doors behind the doctor and shifted her deep blues around carelessly before taking a seat on the sofa.

[14:12] Dipree Lynagh sits down on her chair, takes out her files, the recorder, does everything just like every other time before. Except that this time she also brings in an empty folding chair and places it on the middle of the floor, facing the sofa. "Don't worry about this, I'll explain later." she says briefly, with a smile, as if it's nothing big. "So.. in short review. What have you done since we last met, have you being doing things that are in your opinion positive or negative as to your goals in this therapy?"

[14:16] Gypsy Queller blankly darted her gaze toward the chair in the center of the room as if it was going to jump up and devour her. She hesitantly shifted her gaze back to the doctor, slipping a hand up to take her shades off. She folded them and slid then to hook onto the neckline of her shirt. What had she been doing since the last time they'd met up? "Murdered a hand full of people, tortured even more, fucked Travis' brains out, don't forget tried to hit your dogs with your fucking bronco..." Orly cackled into her head. Gypsy simply grinned to herself, shifting her gaze back to the doctor. Was it positive or negative? She simply nodded. "I've been keepin' busy with work..." she mumbled out behind her lit cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of her lips. She glanced down at the small tape recorder and wondered if she'd hit record yet, defensively. She hated that damn thing.

[14:20] Dipree Lynagh had hit the record button before she began, the usual routine. She leans back and just stares at her pen on the table. Some of that cocky attitude was definitely back, and why had she skipped a session? Something off here? "How's it been with the meds? You should be at your final dose level now, feeling comfortable with it? I know that weight gein is the most common complaint with patients, usually.. If it becomes a problem.. " She takes a slightly envious look at Gypsy's junk-emaciated frame "..we can always switch. You're the customer here." She leans back forward.

[14:26] Gypsy Queller immediately pursed her lips as her head shook. "Yeah, FAT ASS! Take those fucking MEDS, GYPSY! TAKE IT! SHOVE THE WHOLE FUCKING BOTTLE DOWN YOUR THROAT WITH A BOTTLE OF JACK FUCKING DANIELS! YEAH..." Orly growled loudly into her ear. The woman had definitely relapsed, so much so, that she was now comfortable with the screaming insults from Orly as she had been once before, in the beginning when she first showed her ugly face to Gypsy. Gypsy shook her head. "I didn't wan' te' gain th' weight. I don' work out much." Deep blues shifted down the Doctor's frame. "I'm sure ye'd unde'stand tha'..." she snorted out a laugh, shifting her gaze back to the empty chair in the middle of the room. Darty eyes looked it over and back up to the doctor. What the fuck was the chair for? It was making her heart thump against her chest like the low humming bass to a hip hop song. She began to nonchalantly nod her head to the beat it created, not even realizing she was doing it.

[14:32] Dipree Lynagh stares uncomfortably at Gypsy. Did she think she, Dip, was fat? That thought really bothered her. "We could change.." Ahh, forget it. She's obviously going the psychosis way again, and if she's not taking her meds now, she won't be taking the news ones either, so it's all just hypothetical. If she's treatment resistant she'll be restrained. She takes out an old cassette player and simply pushes the play button. "All right, Gypsy. Let's play that game. -All right, Doctor. Let's play that game." "Could you tell me more about this recording, Gypsy?" She isn't absolutely stupid, though - she moves her foot so that it is close to the alarm button at the bottom surface of the desk. Not that a button would save her, of course.

[14:38] Gypsy Queller instantly felt her heart flutter in her chest as she heard Dr. Ingrid's voice on the tape cassette. Deep blues stared down at the recorder almost in awe, her eyes staring out at it in that evil sort of glance under her low eyebrows. Finally remember where she was, she glanced back up to Dr. Lynagh, her tongue eccentrically shooting out across her chapped lips. She could feel the torn flesh on them and couldn't help but tongue it between her words. "Aye. Tha's Dr. Ingrid. I miss tha' man..." she shook her head, looking away with a proud smirk. A delayed laugh escaped and she looked back to the doctor with a shrug. "He liked te' play games. So?" she added in a snap. Deep blues glanced back out at the empty chair as it stared at her from the center of the room. The fuck?! She forced herself to look away, back at Dr. Lynagh. "Ye' like te' play games, Docte'?" she asked, her brow arching upward inquisitively.

[14:42] Dipree Lynagh shakes her head. "No, not games. I like to keep it honest. That said, I would have a request for you, I'd like you to try something. Focus on that chair please.. and if we could have.. this Orly person.. walking into the room and sitting on the chair." She goes quiet, waiting for Gypsy's reaction. Either she can handle it and will go along, or will go over the edge, but these are the risks she is taking, in trying to get to the bottom of this. It's a novel approach at least, since Dr. Ingrid's more classical method did no good.

[14:48] Gypsy Queller "PAH!HAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAA!!!!" Orly released loud and obnoxiously into Gypsy's head. Her eyes winced shut in utter surprise. She wasn't expecting that. "Tell her to fuck off!" Orly continued in her low growl. Gypsy jerked her head to the side, not even realizing she was doing it; as her brows furrowed into the nothingness that now surrounded her. She had no focus now other than Orly. She didn't speak. Didn't say a word. "Fucking tell her, Gypsy, or I'll fucking tell her myself. You know I will... I've fucking done it before..." Orly warned with a threat into her head. "Facksake..." Gypsy's head dropped into her hands. Seemingly, from the outside, she appeared to be suddenly frustrated. "...She doesn' fackin' wan' to..." she finally mumbled, almost out of shame that she'd just admitted that Orly was back. She eccentrically ran her tongue over her bottom lip once more. "FUCKING TELL HER, GYPSY!" Gypsy closed her eyes tightly and breathed out through her nose, trying to keep her composure.

[14:52] Dipree Lynagh taps her pen on the table along with the same rhythm as the clock on the wall is ticking. Tap. Tap. Tap. The whole ward has been carefully built so that no sound can escape through its walls. Is it to keep the noises of the outiside world out, from disturbing the patients, or to keep the sounds of patients from disturbing the outside world.. in any case, the sounds from both the pen and the clock are muffled and quieted, and time slows down to a standstill. Mold on the walls from the creeping moisture of the soil underground. Smell of desinfectant and sleepless days and nights because of the lights that are on 24/7. Will Orly come out.. or will they have to wait. There seems to be time and it's working against Gypsy.

[14:59] Gypsy Queller As her head lifted, dark blues replacing what used to be Gypsy's shot straight toward the Doctor. An eerie grin grew slowly across her features, enough to send chills down a grown man's back, it had- infact- to the late Zacch Morane the last time this had happened. Her lips parted as her jaw dropped open, hanging there as if it had become dislodged from the rest of her skull. Then finally, she spoke, but it wasn't Gypsy's usual accented voice. No. It was that of a low growl, completely void of an Irish accent and in perfect proper westernese. "...You...just...love... to fucking piss us off don't you?" she growled over to the Doctor, never breaking that sinister glare.

[15:03] Dipree Lynagh can't help sinking back in her chair. She'd recognize the voice from the old tapes, this was the alternate personality known as Orly, but seeing Gypsy's face so deformed, that was unexpected and she counln't have prepared herself for that. That diazepam would be so handy right now.. for Dip herself to have, to keep it calm. On the other hand, she decides, she's keeping it honest, she'll show her fear then, fine. "There you are Orly.." she starts, uncertainly. "I'd like to know more about you. Do you know who you are. Because I have this idea, please consider this: You are Gypsy's consicience." She waits, again, not realizing she's frozen in the chair. Nobody's going to help her fast enough if Orly decides to do something so hse'll be just taking whatever comes. Let's go.

[15:11] Gypsy Queller listened to the doctor's words, it only caused that eerie grin to crawl wider across her features, higher on one side than the other. She glared over at her from behind low brows, her head dropped. Slowly, her arms raised over her head in a grand gesture. If Orly was Gypsy's concience, the woman was severly fucked up, because Orly felt no pain, Orly only spat out hideous ideas, feeding Gypsy with the creativity she offered in her torture sessions. She felt no remorse. "I... am her creator. I... am her confidence. I... am everything you wished you could be." her head cocked to the side as she let her hands fall lifelessly to her sides once more. "Don't think I haven't noticed you. Fucking sitting over there in that shirt that fucking screams 'rape me'. You sit at home at night just wishing, begging you could be half the woman I've made Gypsy. I can just imagine you taking her files home for study and it ends in a masturbation, you rolling over and turning off the light because you're fucking spent." Her hand rose to feel on Gypsy's left breast as a single brow arched upward quickly. "Come on, Doctor. Just cock a feel. I won't tell her..." Her tongue slithered out of her chapped lips like a snake and drifted along her top lip.

[15:20] Dipree Lynagh continues staring at Gypsy, or what was her body, now a bit of defiance rising up in her. Sexual innuendo, this she could expect, more towards the comfort zone. "You are the bad thoughts she isn't supposed to have. You are the broken toys she puts away in a closet. You are the voice in her head that wanted to be heard but she refused, so you started shouting. Do you think you are a bad person?" The breast act surely has her feeling a little bulge in her pants, she can't help it, but so be it, and she'll Gypsy notice it. "You have to be nice to her, Orly. She'll listen to you.. but nobody likes to be insulted. You need to talk to her, not argue. See.. you are her. You are a construct. Of a mind that could not handle the thoughts that you consider a separate self, you are an isolated thought process. Without Gypsy you are no more. Not the other way around. Be nice to her." Dip's word come out in a quick succession, text book speech, with not much coherency. She's nervous, and off balance, but trying, still she'll let Gypsy notice..

[15:33] Gypsy Queller listened with bored eyes over at the doctor, low and glaring, dark and evil. The words were like rubbing against the grain for Orly. Suddenly without hesitation, she leaped from the couch, over the desk until landing on her feet on the other side. Rough fingers shot out towards the doctor's neck and if successful, she'd move with her, backwards as the rolling chair gave way and slammed her against the back wall. "Listen, fucking BITCH!" She spat out, the cigarette falling from her lips carelessly and hitting the ground in a spark of ashes. Dark blues would stare down at her with serious intent. "I'm sick and fucking TIRED of your babble bull shit! You only wish I was in your head. Admit it. FUCKING ADMIT IT!" She suddenly stopped the yelling to glare down at her. Her eyes drifted over the woman's body and her head finally dropped to her ear as her hand (would have still been) around her neck. Chapped lips grazed her ear. "Dr. Ingrid. Dr. Lynagh. Your all the fucking same to me..." she began to whisper into her ear. "Fucking static when I'm trying to watch a perfectly good show. You just get in the way. Blur her vision. Make-things-difficult." The word 'difficult' hissed through grinded teeth as dark blues focused in on the side of her face. "I can fuck you up right now if I wanted to. Shove gasoline down your fucking throat and light a match on those pretty fucking teeth. Cut off your breasts and sew them into lampshades. Sew those glaring fucking eyes shut once and for all. Why the fuck do you have to stare at me all the time?" She began to ramble on into her ear.

[15:41] Dipree Lynagh doesn't make a move to stop Gypsy, she just along with her, her back now against the wall, facing the diploma of someone else hanging there. "Orly..".. she speaks very quietly. "..you can go back to Gypsy now if you want. She wanted to come to this therapy. Because of Travis." She tries to swallow, but it's hard, with the hands around her throat. She has nothing more to say at the moment. She wonders what Orly thinks about Travis. She'd not get to ask that now, she guesses. Or do a lot of other things she'd planned to do. Like take that donut to Boysie.. well, that donut was stale anyway by now. Drifting out of the moment, she struggles to keep breathing, but still doesn't make a move. "I can admit I want you or admire you but is that something you need to accomplish?" she finally asks, something like sincerity instead of a calculated response in her voice.

[15:47] Gypsy Queller dropped her head back from the Doctor's ear in a sudden, low laugh. "HAH! HAHAHAHAH! FUCK TRAVIS!" She spat out, shooting her gaze back the doctor. Orly hated everyone. Everyone. Even those that made Gypsy the happiest. As she spat out the last two words, she offered another shove of her hand against the woman's throat. Dark blues shifted down her features again. "And FUCK you... I'll leave when I'm good and fucking ready. I CONTROL HER... NOT the other way around.. -DOCTOR-" she finished with a sarcastic nod of the head, mocking her own words back to her. Finally, the doctor's last question. She jerked her head to the side, that eerie grin reappearing. Was it something she needed to accomplish? "Your fear smells worse than fucking roadkill, bitch. I've already accomplished everything I've needed to. Now fucking say it. SAY IT." Another harsh thrust of her hand against her throat was offered once again.

[15:52] Dipree Lynagh sees her options getting pretty slim at this point. "I want you.." as a further proof, she shifts slightly, to point at her pants, which were still insistent on bulging up, not knowing the difference between excitement and fear.. or maybe the fear was a turn-on and the smell of sweat and the expectation of blood an incentive.. she unthinks this thougt. "I admire you.. for being strong" she coughs as she can't swallow "and attractive and thin, all I wanted, maybe more, I'm.."..trying to breathe.. "sorry I couldn't help you."

[15:57] Gypsy Queller held her dark stare to the doctor as she spoke, and finally shifted her gaze down to her pants. Her eyes suddenly widened and she pulled her hand away. "FUCKING NASTY!" she spat out, her head dropping back into a fit of loud laughter. She never knew this about the woman. Or. Man. But it was just like Orly to throw it back into her face, mocking and taunting as always. "And here I fucking thought they wouldn't trust Gypsy with another penis!" Another cackle of laughter released as she fell back onto the desk. She allowed Gypsy's body to fall back, hitting her head on the desk as she continued laughing hard. So hard, she could barely breath. It eventually died down into low heaves for air, then finally, silence.

[16:02] Dipree Lynagh stands completely still, she's not sure if she'll live anyway, so moving or not doesn't seem to make a huge difference. Orly laughing at her cock is like a distant knock on some door far away that she's locked ages ago - it'd hurt, if the situation was different, but right now, having the hands off her throat and being able to breath again feel more important. And the silence is welcome too. She suspects that Orly might have spent her energy for this time. She waits for Gypsy to come back, eventually making her way slowly back to the chair and the desk, sitting there as ever before.

[16:06] Gypsy Queller slowly allowed Gypsy's eyes to drift shut as the mumbling on her lips continued, just more obscenities toward the doctor. Silence was a huge change from the mere moments before. Gypsy's chest raised and fell with each steady breath that began to finally make itself a rhythm. It was a few moments later that Gypsy's eyes finally drifted open. Those deep blues had returned as she looked at the upside down room. She blinked slowly, trying to take in what had happened, but she had no memory. None at all. She blinked again, not even realizing she was still sitting with the doctor that was out of her view now.

[16:09] Dipree Lynagh coughs and feels her throat. Everything seems to be in place, she can breathe, no emergency.. She waits, until she sees Gypsy breathing more slowly and opening her eyes, then not wanting her to get disoriented, she speaks. "Gypsy?" She starts shaking and a tear escapes her eye. "If you could move back to the sofa."

[16:13] Gypsy Queller remained in place as she heard the voice from behind her, and it all came rushing back to her. She was. At a therapy session. With Dr. Lynagh. She lifted her head slowly and glanced down her own body at the doctor, her brow arching upward inquisitively. "Th' fack..." she mumbled out. Finally sitting up with a grunt, she leaned forward, slid off the side of the desk and wandered back to the couch slowly, drifting her deep blues around the room as if she'd just woken from a deep sleep. She took a lazy seat and stared over at the chair. That fucking chair. She even still wanted to throw it across the room... A nonchalant hand raised to rub the back of her thin line of hair.

[16:17] Dipree Lynagh tries to keep her composure. "I could switch you to" she can't help tears flowing down her face now "a combinaton of lithium and Abilify. Practically.. no complaints of weight .. gain.. on that one." She starts sobbing. Keeping her defenses up for that long had come with a price. "If you want this outpatient therapy to work, you have to work together with me. Without the meds, you'll continue the same path you've been on. It's the most important decision of your life." Dip knows she could and should get restaining orders for Gypsy now. But what twould be the point, keeping her locked in indefinetely? There's no room, no staff for that. And there was no person on earth that that would be a suitable fate for.

[16:23] Gypsy Queller continued rubbing the back of her bald head as deep blues shifted around the room carelessly, finally, she darted them to the doctor as she began to sob. Her brow arched upward instantly. "Th' fack..." she mumbled low to herself out of confusion. She didn't understand why she was crying, she didn't understand why she was offering her different drugs. She nodded reluctantly. "Aye, sure. Wha'eve'..." she mumbled with a nod towards the Doctor. She finally released a heavy sigh, lifting her hand to pull a cigarette from her pack and felt the tinge of pain shoot through it. Why was her hand hurting? She glanced down at it with an expression of angered frustration and began shaking it at the wrist, her fingers flailing in a blur infront of her before finally pulling out a cigarette. She brought it to her lips and lit it carelessly, inhaling deeply. Deep blues darted back to the chair. That piece of shit chair. She narrowed her blank gaze as she heard a faint echo of a familiar low laughter between her ears.

[16:26] Dipree Lynagh shakes her hand as well, though her reason is that it won't stop shaking for long enough to enable her to write. As Gypsy is smoking, she finally has a chance to get to her diazepam unnoticed, perhaps at least. She takes a deep breath as she crushes the pill against her gums with her tongue, and continues filling in t he prescription. "Alright Gypsy.. well.. done. We'll see you.. next time." She's actually crazy enough to see her again. Maybe she's responsiblity-driven, or addicted to this excitement and pain, whatever it is, she won't let this go. She hands the prescription to Gypsy and gathers the chair away, and presses the stop button, marking the end of the session.

[16:30] Gypsy Queller stared at the perscription sliding across the desk blankly before finally getting up with a sigh- as if she couldn't be bothered with this shit, and approached the desk. Was it over so soon? She felt like she'd just walked in here, not realizing the lost time she'd unknowingly misplaced. Her hand shot out to drop onto the piece of paper and she slid it into her palm, folding it in a messy crease and shoved it into her pocket. "Cheers..." she mumbled through the cigarette and turned on her heel towards the door.