copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
We started tackling the Garage on Parcel A. It was an old barn that my Parents had used for storage when they had moved over to the A-Frame a decade ago so they could rent the other houses. It was falling apart and full of boxes filled with thirty years of accumulated stuff. Plus it had some stuff from my Dad's older brother who had lived with us for a while. The boxes had been sitting collecting dust and rat droppings since we first packed them in there.
The boxes were a reminder of an era when my Parents had tried to rent out all the houses to generate an income that would support the Farm and its taxes. But my Parents discovered they didn't want to be landlords to houses that were falling apart anyway. Plus the renting out all the houses didn't generate enough cash flow to support the cost of the non-productive Farm. And even if they had a working farm, the amount of effort involved for the money, they'd be lucky to break even, assuming the crops had a good year.
Tensions were running high these days and emotions were off the fucking! So every day it was only a matter of time before one or both of my Parents got upset. I should have been keeping a score card. Maybe even opened it up for some Vegas betting. It would have made a great reality show too. But mostly it made me want to run so hard and so fast that I lost every sense of myself. Then after I threw up everything inside me I could lie down on the earth and wait for it to swallow me whole.
So far the day wasn't turning out well when they both got upset. It was veering on a Level 4. Of course there was no calming either one of them down. We were all tired, emotionally and physically spent. Moving is a good workout to be sure. But having to be reminded with each box why we were moving wasn't healthy.
We called it quits on moving for the afternoon and I went home. I hoped they would be okay and let go of their bad moods. I wanted nothing more than to strip off the dirty clothes and wash the day's tensions off me. Then maybe, and only maybe, I'd be gifted a few moments where I could forget.
Later that evening I went down to their new house for dinner. I was hoping for a nice relaxing evening. Instead I got another fight. The fights were increasing with the stress. We didn't have a way to resolve what we were going through. So the easiest thing to do was to gnaw a little on the other guy.
I sat down with a plate of food in my lap. But I couldn't eat. Then my body started shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't stop it. I sat there across from their bed in the living room losing my last shred of sanity while they went at each other. There was a deep dark pit opening up in my stomach. It felt like a thousand butterflies in a tornado. But they were eating me alive.
I tried to calm myself, thinking the feelings would just go away. I tried putting their Pink stone, an energy stone made of a special pink granite stone, under my feet. I tried my BRT Vial on different parts of my body, hoping something would help. Nothing seemed to put a dent on the intense sensations that were rolling through.
The fighting went on unabated. I knew they were frustrated. We all were. But I didn't understand how unleashing Hell on each other was going to help us.
My Dad was mean and Mom was emotional. It was like watching a cage fight, without the physical violence. The energy in the room alone had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. The reptilian part of my brain wanted to RUN the hell out of there!
The fight had triggered a huge crack and I couldn't stop it. All I could do was listen to the sound of it breaking the last bit of sanity I had left inside of me. I had nowhere to go. I had no safe harbor. There was no hiding place where I could shut out all the bad things. The bad things had crawled right into the last place of safety I had. This was my proof.
They were so caught up in their own drama. They weren't even aware of the impact on me. They certainly didn't care what I was going through.
I wanted to bring the cold steel to my heart just to get relief. I wanted to rip off my own skin. I wanted to do anything I could think of to make the pain go away.
I decided a walk might help. Mom was all emotional and wanted to come with me. I didn't like the idea. I could feel her energy feeding off me. Poor Mom just wanted to be okay too. I knew if I declined her interest in going for a walk with me, she'd go off on another emotional Episode. I couldn't take any more emotions.
So I agreed. Maybe the walk would settle my nerves down. But it didn't. And having Mom there with me, given her current state of mind, did not help. It made it worse. My teeth were chattering as my whole body shuddered. I tried to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward through the old apple orchard but I was a sad example of a human being.
We walked back to the Glass House and went inside.
"Hey Dad, will you put your hand on my stomach?"
"Sure," he said.
He was still in fight mode but I thought his hand might help. Then a burning sensation seared across my stomach. It was as if he was transferring all his negative energy to me. I pulled his hands away, realizing I couldn't get relief here. Not in this house.
They were oblivious and so caught up in their own drama, they simply didn't care. They couldn't set their own fucking issues aside to help their daughter. I was suffocating and they didn't care. They just stood there, sucking out all my oxygen. And lightning a fire to what little oxygen was left in the room. It was every man for himself.
I couldn't eat. I couldn't stop shaking. I was in the middle of a breakdown with no one to help me. Not one soul in that room. I was alone and part of me was dying. The small glimmer of light I had was being snuffed right fucking out.
I had to get out of there. So I packed up my stuff and headed home to the Cabin. The nerves did not subside at home. They seemed to get worse. I put the Pink Stone under my bare feet, pulled my Code Book out, put "The Secret" DVD on, and started putting the BRT Vial on various parts of my body that I thought might be the cause of all the feelings. My teeth were clattering. I was still alive, my heart was pumping blood, but a deep cold had set into my bones. There was no warmth to be found anywhere.
I called my Dad and talked to him on the phone for over an hour shaking the whole time. I read my Codes with my feet on the stone, using the BRT Vial, and listening to "The Secret" DVD. He suggested a breathing technique to me, but that just seemed to make things worse. I was doing everything I could think of but none of it seemed to help. I was being gobbled up by a grave, hungry for fresh meat.
After over an hour with Dad on the phone, the shaking had subsided. I don't know if it was because of something I had been doing or if my poor body just got pooped out. The good news about the muscles convulsing was it made me very tired. I was tired enough to sleep.
I'd had anxiety in the past, so the feelings were nothing new. Probably everyone has experienced one form of anxiety in their lives. This however, was a whole new and exciting spin on it. If anxiety was a sparkler firework, then panic was a full on missile with multiple bombs inside it.
I was slipping. Dealing with my Parents, their issues, the Episodes over the last month, having no "safe harbor", along with an Episode from them that day, was a breaking point for me. It was a downward spiral into the darkest hole I could build for myself.
It was horrible. I'd never felt such despair before. It was like I was watching my whole life cave in before my very eyes, and the lights dim on hope itself.
What do you do when you have no hope?
My mind was a rubber band that was being stretched to the very limits of my being. But one can only stretch so far, before everything breaks.
"A mind that is stretched by new experience can never go back to its old dimensions."
Oliver Wendell Holmes
American Physician, Professor, Lecturer, Author
YOU ARE READING
A TASTE OF DESTRUCTION Book 1 (EDITING) is the juice worth the squeeze seriesNon-Fiction
I woke up to a world crumbling around me. Our Family Farm was in the middle of foreclosure as an economic crisis rippled across America. Hope was fading fast and there was no end in sight to the chaos coming for us, ready to destroy everything we...