Week One
Patient: Holden MorriseyCaulfield
Psychiatrist: Dr. Eric Phantom
Possible Diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder
(Personal File, Property of Dr. Eric James Phantom)
In all of my twenty years of working for the mental hospital as a psychiatrist, I have never once encountered anyone like Mr. Holden Caulfield. His late psychiatrist, before me, Dr. Byron Gordon had seen symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder. After, he quickly resigned his position from Mr. Caulfield, and I had become his new psychiatrist. As far as I can tell, Mr. Caulfield seems perfectly fine; though the nurses seem to have problems with him I recall his halcyon state when I am around. I've notices relations of his personality to my early accquaintance, Jerome Dawson Stanger, who ended his life at the age fourteen.
This kind of disorder is what I have been trying to study throughout my years of college and training. Mr. Caulfield continues to stay silent when asking questions by the nurses and myself. He refuses to volunteer in any treatments yet judges those around him. Dr. Gordon seems to have gotten nothing out of him and is unable to get Holden oblige to any treatments, before myself. I do hope to make progress by the end of this week.
Yesterday, I was in my office studying Holden's past, when he entered, ready for our daily meeting. We talked about his parents, but the only comment he made was that they were nice, indeed they were…nice, yet something inside me, told me there was much more the meets the eye, when I had the chance of meeting them on a visiting day, which was, last week. Mrs. Caulfield was a lovely copper haired, but had this unusual look in her wide red eyes, that made her look nervous as if she's about to lose another one of her children, as for her husband, who seemed too eager to send Holden to a new school, he had this tight grim line that only tightened when I mentioned his son's name. I believe Holden's family may have a great impact on his life. I've noticed the way; Holden's father treats him, with firm discipline, expecting trouble every second from Mr. Caulfield. He could care less about Holden's well being and more time for his entertainment and social life.
His brother D. B Caulfield drove down from Hollywood and spoke to him in person, after our; daily discussion on Holden's future. D.B has given me much more information than I could ever get out of Holden. We spoke about Holden's long melancholy story of the three days before Christmas, which has triggered him to have change in thought, it makes me wonder how he could he have changed back.
He also explains of Holden's inability to cope and move on after the death of their younger brother Allie Caulfield. Just today, I went to Holden's room to speak with him about the three day event of his life of which he decides to give me a two hundred and fourteen paged leather notebook with all of the his thoughts and actions of those three days. I've noticed he was holding a left hander baseball mitt with green scribbles from a distance. I asked what it was and he said he was his brother Allie's baseball mitt, which he just so happens to have on him. I asked to see and he showed it to me the green scribbles were poems written all over the mitt.
That night I ran through the pages, skidding through until one page caught my eyes, his conversation with Phoebe Caulfield his younger sister, whom he says he cherishes deeply. He explains to her the only thing he truly really wants to be, is the Catcher in the Rye, it struck me. Who is this Catcher in the Rye? And why would he be catching children from running off a cliff? And why would children be running off one in the first place?
I find it intriguing that Holden feels a need to protect children or be this "catcher in the rye" as he calls it. From what, I still do not understand. My prediction is that it has something to do with his brother Allie and his inability to protect him, before he died, still it doesn't make sense. How can you protect a child from something that is created in them? So then, I have made it mission to study and compare Jerome to Mr. Caulfield.
Prognosis: Nothing so far.
Week Two
Patient: Holden Morrisey Caulfield
Psychiatrist: Dr. Eric Phantom
Possible Diagnosis: Unsure, to be diagnosed later.
(Personal File, Property of Dr. Eric James Phantom)
I just began reading Holden's story, just this morning during breakfast, and noticed his many references to death. Such as, "That kills me." Or "Suppose to commit suicide," the cannon at Thomsen Hill, "Got the ax," including his work on the Egyptian Mummification for his History Final. It almost worries me that this whole thing may just be one big suicide note.
Nevertheless, throughout the first sixteen to fifty five pages there are acts of sarcasm and lying, which leads me to wonder if Holden may be a compulsive liar. He doesn't show many symptoms but has a tendency to lie often. I believe the cause of his lying may be his lack of an adventurous life or his insecurity. Since of course, Holden has stated the he is the dumbest one in the family, yet he shows intelligence throughout the first sixty seven pages.
There is a part in the story that has caught my eye. While Holden was waiting for Ackley to get ready, Holden was packing snowballs and began to throw them at cars and fire hydrants, until he stopped, and realized everything looked "so nice and white".
It confused me, why wouldn't he throw something that is also nice and white at something that is already nice and white. Snow represent clean and purifying, and if you throw something that is pure and clean at something that is also clean and pure does that mean Holden fears the imbalance of clean and dirty, corrupted and innocence, or good and bad? Because he believes everything has a good and bad side? It almost imbalances me myself.
It said in his profile that he has been kicked out of four schools already, including the famous Pencey Prep. Which I have heard is a spectacular school according to the nurses around Holden. Yet through Holden's eyes seem to be degrading for all the "phonies" at the school.
I've noticed Mr. Caulfield's randomness of fun every now and then, when he's bored. I don't see this as a notable cause of disorder, but a way to entertain himself; I must admit I don't blame him, for the offices here are dull. I fear that Holden may be on the brink of suicide, because throughout the entire conversation, he has been staring at the window every snowing day, as if waiting for the wind to grab him and pull him out.
I've asked Mr. Caulfield if he would apply himself when returning to school, he shrugs, brushing it off as if it's not important at all, it almost worries me that he cares nothing for himself, but everything for the people he knows.
Going through the old dusty boxes in my home, I found some memorable photo of Jerome and me, in our old home town of Nevada; Jerome was an average sized, freckled face, dark haired, dark eyed, pale friend, whom inherited most of his mother's looks including her trade mark full dark red lips. He always wore these black suspenders and tie every day along with this white button up. His mother, was a charming, exemplary smoker socialite, who was always dressed in silk, his father was a hot shot lawyer, flaunting his skills everywhere even to prove the guilty innocent.
Jerome was never the kind to associate with people, not even his parents. In fact, they didn't even want to associate themselves with him. Before he and I were ever friends, I use to see him run through rye into the woods. I never understood why until I followed him myself.
Jerome use to lie in the middle of the woods where the sunlight shined without any sight of shade except the trees surrounding it. I'd study him to see if he did anything funny, like take out a cigarette or something, but he never did, instead he just stayed there as if he was waiting, I didn't know what until I confronted him on the second day of spying. Jerome never said anything; his only action was offering me to stare at the sky with him. He asked me if I ever saw anyone in need would I help them. I said I would he stayed silent until he told me about his parents.
For three days we did that, we stared at the sky, and the sun, and we talked. He told me that everything needs balance and that we are the world and the world is society and society needs a balance of good and bad. But bad is unbalancing the seesaw and he wants to put that balance back.
Perhaps the snowball Holden wanted to throw made him realize that throwing something clean and pure at something that is already clean and pure will imbalance the beauty of the fire hydrants and cars.
During our walk here, Jerome talked about the fight that his mother and father engaged in about Jerome's dyslexia and A.D.D, it was our eighth week gazing into the sky. Yet, today the sky was sunless, a blue view of nothing, not even clouds. Jerome was horrified He demanded I get up and go for a run with him. "A race," he declared it. "Let's go for a race." I agreed, I was about to ask the route to the end of the race, when Jerome dashed off into the trees which hardly had shade. I followed, he knew by now, that I was fast and would be able to catch up with him, but by the time I was there, Jerome was almost close to the edge of a cliff. The kind of cliff you saw in movies with that narrow end. The sun was out and in full view for us to see above the grassy hills and ryes. I ushered him to step away from the edge, he let off a parted sigh "Just take a look down there," he said "Ain't it just beautiful?"
I was too afraid to look, but I imagined a great deal of fuchsia and gold flowers surrounding the rich green grass and horses roaming the area. "Do you ever just look down and wish you could just jump?" He asked. The question never really crossed my mind until now. I begged him not to get another step closer the edge, and tried to convince that his mother wouldn't tolerate it if I had walked home without him by my side. I waited as he stared down.
When I compared this to any page of Holden's story nothing related but the time he gazed out the window in the hotel.
Prognosis: Slowly volunteering to speak.
Week Three
Patient: Holden MorriseyCaulfield
Psychiatrist: Dr. Eric Phantom
Possible Diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder
(Personal File, Property of Dr. Eric James Phantom)
During my discussion with Holden, I hand back his book with a parting sigh. I had just finished reading the novel during the night. I almost recommended he should publish the novel, until it struck me. In about two weeks, Holden will be released from the hospital to be sent off to a new school or be given treatment; there was so much to learn about this young man. Yet there was so little time.
Holden was never meant to be here. In fact Holden is nothing like Jerome. True, both are corrupted and seem suicidal, but as we grow, we all become corrupted by society. That's the payment of becoming and more mature we all learn of the bad side of the world.
A few weeks after Jerome had showed me the cliff, rain began pouring buckets of water, and had lightning struck, the whole neighborhood was silent, but Jerome.
Jerome had done it; he had finally done the deed. What he had done; He snuck out his window, ran through the wet mushy rye like he always did, through the forest, and straight for the cliff, where he finally jumped off.
It had been two days until they finally found him. The officers and Mr. and Mrs. Stanger came barging into my home, drenched in rain water. The next day they took Jerome's body away, I could even look at him, so I walked to the cliff. I wanted to see of whatever was down there was worth falling for. When I did, I saw nothing, just dead golden grass. It confused me, why would Jerome die for something dead and dry? Now I realize, Jerome only wanted to help them. He wants to help; all he ever wants to do is help.
The normal are considered the crazy and are degraded by the crazy who are considered normal. Jerome is just like Holden, but different, Jerome wanted help but at the same time he wanted to help, Holden doesn't but Holden understands what Jerome knew. He knows we are all corrupted and he may not have a high percent chance of helping everyone realize that, but he can change some and those some can changes others. Holden will be leaving soon, but you could tell he will fail out of this school as well and end up abandoned by his father or be sent to military school.
Prognosis: Normal. Just low self esteem.
Week Four
Patient: Holden MorriseyCaulfield
Psychiatrist: Dr. Eric Phantom
Possible Diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder
(Personal File, Property of Dr. Eric James Phantom)
No one is naturally born intelligent, but no one is naturally born corrupted as well. Perhaps, as Holden grew older, he realized the things in this world that needed to be fixed, but doesn't acknowledge it. The only problem Holden is experiencing is his own flaws. He needs to realize that he should help the world, but first he must learn to accept change. Because of his insecurities, which are natural in a human, it causes him to not be able to help. He needs me to show him the path. And I will show him the path.
Holden is getting better; all he needs is to go back to those three days before Christmas, and must learn not to care about what everyone thinks or says. He must learn to stop being judgmental and learn to see the good side of things.
Prognosis: He will learn, hopefully, once he is out.
Week Five
Patient: Holden MorriseyCaulfield
Psychiatrist: Dr. Eric Phantom
Possible Diagnosis: Borderline Personality Disorder
(Personal Page of Diary, Property of Dr. Eric James Phantom)
I have decided to retire from my position as a psychiatrist, after of which I have also decided to let Holden leave. I had a fake I.D created for Holden. The day before Holden is signed out, I convinced him to run away like he had once wanted and stated in his story. Holden agreed and we drove straight to Nevada. While we drove, we smoked cigarettes and Holden told me about the Carousel of which he watched his sister Phoebe ride on that made him cry. I realized that when Holden watched her, he realized that without change, you would get nowhere.
We arrived at Nevada, where I showed him my unchanged neighborhood, and lead him through the rye to the woods where the sun would always be and then to the cliff. We both looked down but not from the edge, ever since Jerome had died, they placed a fence around it, because the state government didn't want anyone else to commit suicide again.
The strangest thing happened, when I looked down, the dead golden wheat was no longer there. Instead it was moist green grass filled with fuchsia and golden flowers. I started to tear up when I saw it.
"Go," I told him, handing him the I. D "You have a new life now. From now on, you are Jerome David Salinger." He nodded. Before walking away I tell him. "Take my car; everything you need is in there. I want you to start a new life. Show the world what's really going on." He froze and took a puff at the cigarette, he wants to question payment "On one condition," I say. "Never let anyone change you."
"Yes sir." He says. And that was I will hear him say, because my world was in the rye over the under the cliff. That was the last I saw of him, J.D Salinger. Once in a while I'll hear of him, but I'll never see him.