This story is mine, believe it or not, I don’t really care as long as it’s out there and somebody knows it.
Ever since I was a youngling I was always sensitive to electrostatic changes in my surroundings. If you’ve watched that show supernatural you’ll know what that means. So it all started a few years ago when I was going through a bad breakup with my now ex wife. The stress of it had almost driven me off the edge to the point I was debilitated by depression and anger. One afternoon as I was throwing myself a pity party wallowing on the couch it happened for the first time, I felt a soft breath at the back of my neck like someone breathing really close behind me. At first I never really paid much attention to it cause I figured I must have left a window or something open, but then it started happening more. I’d get so unnerved I’d get up in the middle of the night to check if the bedroom window was open of which it wasn’t. Then one night as I lay there, the familiar breath I was accustomed to blew on my neck. In my half asleep stupor I asked myself, “what’s happening?” Then out of nowhere, alone in my room there was a whisper right next to my ear, “I want you.” I felt terror like I never had before, my skin felt like the feeling you get when you hold on to an ice cube too long. I was now wide awake with terror not sure if I had heard the voice or not, if I had dreamt it, imagined it, had my stress triggered some underlying schizophrenia in my genetic makeup? For the first time in years I prayed, not because I believed it would help, but at that point it felt I was at a breaking point and anything would be worth a shot. ‘Our father’ is what I prayed that night. And then I slept peacefully that night and a few more.
Most of my life I had believed I was atheist, that everything we were taught in school was the reality we lived in. By that logic what was happening to me only meant there was one plausible explanation, I was cracking up. I had heard of stories about people loosing their marbles from smoking weed and being a partaker of sorts this had to be the reason why it was happening after all there was no history of mental illness in my family. So I quit, weed, alcohol, coffee, painkillers, anything I felt would cause my cognition to deteriorate any further. Anything I thought would destabilize my state of mind had to go, I stopped watching horror movies and the news. I figured since it all started with the falling apart of my marriage, I had to fix it. My wife then, of whom was extremely superstitious, reluctantly agreed to try and ‘fix us’ despite her being infatuated with her new boy toy(small dicked Arabian pretty boy) . We tried to rekindle the flame we had lost by doing the things we used to do, going on trips, dinners, dancing etc… And for a couple of weeks it seemed it was gonna be okay.
One night as we were having dinner I decided to tell her what had been happening to me. She sat there quietly listening, expressionless as I explained how I had almost been driven to madness by our little spat. Then as she sat there holding her coffee mug with both hands, her legs folded up as if half squatting half sitting on the chair she said to me, “he’s only trying to reassure you.” The dread started creeping in again as she continued, “but if you hurt me again he will make you pay for it.”
Insurmountable fear. Details from our past together began to fit, a shining orb floating next to her in a picture she had of her childhood, sudden twitches I started having after I met her like an electric shock going through my body, which began to happen to my indiscretions as soon as I’d start fraternizing with them accompanied by headaches, vertigo, nausea… All the calm I had cultivated over the past couple of months went down the shitter. This, what she was saying was detrimental to my getting better from my insanity. I had to leave, go outside, just be away from her. I picked the car keys went down and took off. No idea where I was going as long as it was where she wasn’t. A couple of minutes into the drive as I was beginning to calm down a voice next to my ear, this time not a whisper, a real audible clear voice said only one word, “wewe…”
My father, a military officer was a hard man. A good man but he was who he was, there was no subtlety in his methods of discipline. At times I wondered if he couldn’t tell the difference between us, my sister and I, and the cadets he used to instruct on specialty courses. A skill or a handicap depending on who’s asking, I developed from his brutal physical and psychological chastisement was the ability to dissociate from myself. When a situation would become unbearable I would just stop being conscious, sort of like retreat into a waking dream that I could go in and out of at will and sometimes not sure why, it would be involuntary, but this gift or curse was/is the only reason I have retained some if any, sometimes I’m not so sure, of my sanity to date.
After the short drive, stopping by a veve stand for a couple of smokes I got home and went to sleep embracing my wife as though nothing had happened. Technically in my mind nothing had happened, she was the love of my life and if I was to be something different in the morning I would have my last memory of loving the moon of my sky to keep.
Loosing my composure telling this story so I’ll take a break for a couple of days till I’m less impressionable… Plus it’s long…