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I have this condition called Alien Arm Syndrome. It sounds fake, I know. Like something out of a sci-fi horror flick. But it is a real medical condition and I was lucky enough to be cursed with it. I never cared to look into it scientifically, but basically a part of your brain doesn’t function correctly and one of your arms grows a mind of it’s own.

Sometimes it’s controllable. Usually a doctor will tell you to hold something in the affected hand and this would help keep it under control. Sometimes the condition will get better and sometimes it will get worse. It’s different for everyone who has it but with me it keeps getting worse, and worse.

When I was around nine or so, is when it all started. It was really very subtle at first. Every once in a while my arm and hand would just make small movements. Like I’d be sitting down watching T.V. and all of a sudden I’d notice my arm stuck out to my side making random movements. A few years later I was watching T.V. when suddenly the channel changed. I looked over at my hand and it was channel surfing all on it’s own.

It wasn’t too long after that I was holding a cup in my hand, to try and keep it under control, when suddenly I whipped it across the kitchen at my mom and it hit her right in the head. I felt really bad, she needed five stitches. So while we were at the hospital my mother asked the doctor if there was any better medication I could take. He prescribed me some sort of mild tranquilizer to use with the medicine I already had. It worked pretty good, at least for a few years. It still made little movements, but nothing severe.

I was 11 at that time, now I’m 20, and I can feel it starting to get bad again. Whatever medication I’m on barely works at all anymore and my doctor has me on the highest doseage possible. My arm is starting to wake me up every night now. Sometimes it’s just playing with my phone, but sometimes it scratches my wall violently to the point where my fingers are bleeding and my nails start bending back. I also started sleepwalking. Every morning when I wake up, something is out of place. That morning I found my butcher knife on the kitchen table.

This disease is driving me mad. Between the anxiety of possibly hurting myself or others, and the severe lack of sleep I can literally feel myself slipping away into insanity. I’ve been off balance, making stupid mistakes, and all together not thinking clearly.

So the other day I decided I would handcuff my alien arm to the bedpost and hopefully that would insure me at least one good nights sleep. I don’t know why I never thought of this before. But it didn’t work very well. I think I actually pissed off the arm. I woke up choking my own throat violently. Somehow it got out of the handcuffs. My fingers were pierced into the side of my neck and I couldn’t breathe. I tried to use my good hand to pull it away but my Alien arm was too strong. I passed out. When I woke up the hand was luring over me, dangling the handcuffs in front of my face, mocking me.

“Enough!” I screamed. “I’m done living with this!” Still in a sleepless daze, and probably suffering from a concussion at this point, I ran out into my kitchen crashing into every wall on the way. I went to my knife drawer and pulled out the butcher knife with my good hand. My alien arm tried to grab it away but I managed to keep it out of reach. I threw myself on the floor and was able to get my bad hand under my knee with all my weight on top of it. It squirmed and vigorously tried to free itself. But this time it wasn’t going to win.

“I should have done this a long time ago!” I hacked away at it with the butcher knife. One, two, three times. The pain was excruciating, it seemed to pulsate throughout my whole body. Four, five, and by the sixth chop it was clean off. I watched it for a second still moving around the floor involuntarily.

The next thing I knew I woke up here in this hospital bed. I guess I called 911 before I passed out but I dont remember much. The nurses told me I was lucky to be alive with all the blood I lost. But to me the luckiest thing of all was that damn arm was gone. I held up the stump that used to be my alien arm, looked at it, and smiled. From now on, I’ll be able to sleep and relax with no problem. I let this beautiful thought run through my head for a moment and just laid there, still, in peace.

A nurse walked in and came up to me,“What’s the problem dear?” She asked politely.

“No problem,” I said puzzled. “ In fact, I’m better than I’ve ever been.”

“Oh, then why are you pressing the call button?” she questioned.

“I’m not……” I started to say before looking over at my ‘good’ hand. But there it was, slamming down on the call button over, and over, and over………

Credits to: Sage,


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