copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
Mom and I left for the Doc's office. The car ride was quiet. I spent the time reading my Codes and left Mom to her own thoughts. I couldn't help her. She had chosen to drown. And if she wanted to stop it, she'd have to muster the willpower to reach for a breath of air. I couldn't force it into her.
The Doc's went well. I was glad I happened to go in on our Lock-Out Day. My pancreas tested as a 9, it should energetically be a 10. Then the Doc tested me for emotions. And I had some emotional issues with the lack of support and feeling that people, alleged "loved ones", were being aggressive with us. I wasn't happy with the way some people were treating my Parents. People were kicking us while we were down and I didn't like it at all.
If they didn't want to help us, fine. Say no. But I didn't understand their need to judge and berate.
How much farther in the gutter did they believe we needed to be pushed?
Why did some people have a desire to go out of their way to treat my Parents like they were failures?
Didn't they understand we already felt like failures?
I didn't understand how these people felt like they were being helpful with their negativity. I always thought you helped people by lifting them out of the hole, not pushing them deeper into one.
Didn't they realize that?
And if they didn't want to lift my Parents up, which by no means was a requirement, then for God's sake, don't help push them farther down. If there's any time to show a sense of decency and humanity, it's when you come across people, whether loved ones or not, who are in the fight of their lives.
The Doc also found that I had a little anxiety and overwhelm.
I wonder why?
He went ahead and energetically cleared me on all my emotions. I was still stressed about the idea of having no idea where we would sleep tonight, but I wasn't overwhelmed by it anymore.
"Can I stop doing The Drops in my eye yet?" I asked him.
"Let's test," the Doc said.
I held out my arm, used my hand to cover the right eye, while he held The Drops against my chest and pushed down on my arm.
The arm stayed strong. Damn. It meant I was still supposed to keep up with The Drops in my eye. I couldn't wait for the day when I didn't have to do The Drops in my eye anymore. I longed for it! My Viral Point was testing better, which was great. It meant my body was no longer as overloaded as it had been with the viral infection I had energetically tested for before.
"By the way, a few nights ago I felt really ill like I was going to throw up. I broke out in a sweat and ended up on my knees thinking I was going to die."
"It's probably a reaction to The Drops cleaning out your body. The reaction is called Herxheimer. It's what happens when the body gets overloaded by cleansing out all the toxins and microorganisms. So we want to make sure we don't give your body more than you can handle with The Drops," the Doc said.
"I want you to concentrate on Good Health. Take a moment, to stop, in the middle of the storm, and acknowledge all the good things in your life. Take a vacation from the stress, even if it was just for a few minutes, several times a day," the Doc said.
"Okay Doc. That's good advice. Thank you," I said.
Another boulder of emotions had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't know how many boulders I had on my shoulders, but one by one, they were being pulled off. Life and hope seemed possible again.
After the Doc's we met Dad at our local coffee shop so we could talk about where we were going to go since we couldn't stay at the Main House anymore. We had no place else to stay. None.
We grabbed a table outside and enjoyed the sun. It was a beautiful day.
"So, first tell me how it went at the Doc's?" Dad asked.
I went through my appointment and about the advice the Doc gave us taking a break during the stressful storm that had become our lives.
"Good. Okay," Dad said.
"So, what are we going to do tonight?" I asked.
"Well, how much money does everyone have?" Dad asked.
I opened up my wallet and looked.
"I have five dollars U.S."
Mom had ten dollars.
"Okay, so we have about thirty U.S. dollars of cash between us until I get paid my retirement pay at the first part of the month," Dad said.
I had no idea how we were going to pay for food and a hotel room until Dad got paid, which was four days away.
"Well, I guess we could always go back up on top [on Parcel C]," I told my Parents.
"No, I don't think we should do that," Dad said.
While Parcel C did have power and water, there was no bathroom. The only building was a metal tin structure that had been nicknamed, The Shop. The Shop had concrete floors and was loaded with rats. It was filled with Dad's wood working equipment, tools, and various chemicals for car and tractor maintenance. Plus, with no insulation or heating system, it would be very cold at night.
We could sleep in the cars and dig a hole in the ground for our toilet. But it would not be a comfortable place to live.
"Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished. If you're alive, it isn't."
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A TASTE OF DESTRUCTION Book 1 (EDITING) is the juice worth the squeeze seriesNon-Fiction
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