CHAPTER 65 We Should Just Declare Bankruptcy

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copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.

I was awakened at 4:30 a.m. I stayed in bed and let the tears flow as I held a kleenex next to the eye hoping it would dry up. I wanted to go back to sleep. No such luck. I hated having to get up and deal with the eye in the middle of the night.

So I turned my flashlight on that I kept next to my bed, and went downstairs to get my washcloth from the master bathroom. Then I filled a bowl with water and walked back to the kitchen so I could put it in the micro.

When it was ready I grabbed the bowl, squeezed the excess water from the washcloth, and waited for it to cool down a little before I put around my eye. I stood in the darkened kitchen with only the light from my flashlight, allowing the steam to penetrate my eye. Hopeless was my home now.

Then a rush of sensations hit me like a collision. I was dizzy.

"I must be really tired being up this early," I thought.

But it kept expanding outwards. Then my stomach was nauseous and the dizziness magnified tenfold. There was something wrong with me! But I didn't know what it was. I started to freak out, which kicked the heart in high gear.

I walked back to the master bathroom and stood in front of the sink for a minute or so. I had to hold onto the sink counter with both hands to steady myself. It still wasn't going away. I'd finally had it with my life and was ready to vomit the whole thing up and start fresh. Fuck it.

I flipped the light switch on and pondered whether or not I wanted to get my Parents up. Everyone likes someone holding their hair out of their face when it's buried in a toilet bowl. I deserved someone to be there if I was going to get sick. Somebody should be up with me. I shouldn't have to be alone.

But I decided not to wake them. The nauseousness was so strong, I got down on my knees. The bathroom floor was cool against my skin. I doubled over, bracing myself for the impeding violence. I was ready. I didn't care about the dirty floors or the fact that we had septic leak. I didn't care how awful I looked. Here was my chance to let go, to eject my whole life and all I thought I could be.

I wasn't a strong person. I was weak. I broke down easily. And here I was down on my knees, ready to beg for a way out. I was ready to beg to a God I didn't even believe in, to wipe me off the Earth. The breath came hard and fast in and out of my lungs.

My forehead and torso broke out in a sudden rush of sweat. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe what my life had turned out to be like. Here I was kneeling on a dirty floor, in a shanty shack of a house, surrounded by a bunch of worthless stuff that didn't mean anything to me, living back with my Parents, sleeping on a dirty mattress, with two suitcases full of my clothes. I was a failure and everything in my life was proof.


Fuck this whole thing. Fuck putting up with all this shit. Fuck dealing with my Parents. Fuck my Dreams and my soul for ever believing in them. I had enough!

I couldn't do this anymore. I didn't want too. I wanted off the ride. I was ready to hand in all my chips and be done with all the chaos and the unrelenting pain.

Then I took a breath. The test had passed. I hadn't thrown up. I was still alive. Guess I had to stick around. Maybe there were things I still needed to do.

"Damn you," I thought.

I started to feel a little better. I guess it was time to move on with living. So I got up off my knees and washed my hands. Then I rinsed out the washcloth, hung it up to dry, and went back to bed. Sleep wasn't far behind when I put my head on the pillow. The night's events had exhausted me.

When I woke up later in the morning I was greeted by an emotional wreck of a Mom. The times she wasn't emotional, she was great. But more and more these days the dark clouds overtook and controlled her every mood.

Mom blurted out for the tenth time, "We should just declare bankruptcy!"

But the problem was bankruptcy wasn't going to fix our situation. Sure, it would halt the Foreclosure on our home. But it would save only one Parcel.

And then what?

We still didn't have an income. We still had not generated money from our Projects or funding to help assist us in the development and production of our Projects. We still weren't settled in our lives.

Dad was uptight as he worked on getting his emails ready to send. He seemed to have a much shorter fuse these days.

Who could blame him really?

Seriously, it's not like we're taught in school how to deal with our emotions and stress as part of the curriculum. We're not taught how to survive in the world. Not really. We're taught how one plus one equals two or how to form a proper sentence. Math and grammar doesn't help you when you're in the shit storm of your life.

I decided to have the three of us do a couple more energy exercises together to help lighten the emotional loads. We stood in the middle of their makeshift bedroom and went through the energy exercises I had picked out. Dad always had a sour face on when he did them.

I could sense his energy, and it said, "I don't want to do this. I'm not interested in going through some dumb energy exercises."

But it seemed to help us all settle down little. Now, imagine it. I might actually know a thing or two. Imagine. Course I'd never have Dad confirm that out loud, the hard ass that he was. He'd probably prefer to poke his eye out than admit to needing my help.

"Many people who file bankruptcy don't realize what an impact it will have on their lives. It can affect your credit history for seven to 10 years, so you might have trouble getting new credit, a mortgage, a job, insurance or a rental dwelling."


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