Japan’s
got a suicide forest. I'd bet that it looks a lot like this one right
here.
The
wife said that I've gotta get out more for personal time. I'm gonna
go crazy if I keep going like this. This is all I've got though. Two
jobs, plasma center, cooking, cleaning, kids. The sun's not even up
yet, still a few inches of snow in these hills, fog’s so thick
I can barely see my feet, and this wind is starting to get to me, but
it's the only time that I've got for “me time.”
World’s funny. Ha! All I can squeeze out is a single chuckle
from being so out of breath. A single chuck I guess you could say.
When there's fog and wind it really freezes the lungs and makes it
hard to get a good laugh.
‘Oh
Father in Heaven, help me breathe a little better.’
This
is how I'd imagine the Japanese forests though, at least that is what
it seems like on the travel channel. I've never made it there to know
in person, this crisp air and fog drifting through the trees is how
I'd imagine it. I had planned to see it when I joined the military,
get stationed abroad, but got rejected by them. And guess what for?
Eczema. Eczema! Ha! Of all the things! I'd worked so hard to get
ready for the military, I did JROTC and earned an Eagle Scout just to
join with a higher rank, and they turned me down for eczema. There
were literal meth addicts in the drug test line with me at MEPS and I
got rejected for eczema. This cold is setting off the eczema though,
making my skin dry and itchy, so maybe they had a point. Can't defend
your country when cold weather makes you a little itchy. Ha. I'm just
not good enough for them, I guess.
I
never mind the cold usually, but in this wet air it chills me, right
down to the bones. Man, it's getting hard to breathe. Is that from
walking up this steep path, or is it the panic attack? What's up with
these panic attacks lately anyway? Never used to get them. How long
has it been since they started? I can’t even remember.
I
didn't get them when I was a kid and Rachel died. It's funny, it's
just like they always say, “of all the people to die it had to
be blah blah blah.” It's not like any of us wanted it for
anyone else, but out of all the siblings, of course it was Rachel
that died. Everyone loved her. Only 20 years old and probably about
1500 people at her funeral. Not even the typical thing you see when a
youngster dies and the school or town shows up to support the family,
oh no. These were all people who were personally touched by her,
lives changed by her. All we heard all day long was the deep,
personal, life-changing impact she has on them. Of course it had to
be her. Ha.
Didn't
have the panic attacks a few years later when child protective
services put me in the group home either. I was really just numb
there. Come to think of it, I used to be numb a whole lot back then.
Dad didn't feel because of the pills, I just chose not to, ha. I like
dark humor.
‘God
in heaven, is it a sin to have this humor? Sure hope not.’
Man
this fog is thick. How far even am I? That's that gnarly tree I
think, so that means that I've gotta be about halfway to the bend in
the path. How am I so out of breath? I used to be in great shape, and
I never stopped exercising. I guess the exercise now isn't really
official, it's the warehouse and the loading docks and stuff, but I
still feel very worked out every day. Not like when I got out of the
academy. Man, I could go forever then.
It
was good to be a sheriff deputy, but the stress, oh man. I was at the
jail. I heard that the prison is easier to work in, but the prison is
where dad offed himself so they probably wouldn't hire me there
anyway, so the stressful jail it was. And oh boy the stress! There
were definitely some bad days there, but it wasn't even really the
stress on the job that got me, it was the home life stress. Every
pregnancy was high risk. Every pregnancy got the wife sicker, brought
her bad memories back up to the surface, her mental health went down
with her physical health. Childhood traumas come back up hard when
they’re shoved so far down.
Her
PTSD was crazy, whether from the hormones, or the stress on the body,
or probably both, but man alive did her mental health go down. It
destroys my heart; she never gives up despite it all, she’s
always pushing as hard as he can, I gotta be that rock for her or
else it'll get worse. Not like me though. I've been handling it fine;
it was just the work schedule. Gotta call in again to take her to the
ER. Gotta call in again, she isn't safe to leave alone with the kids.
Gotta call in cause she got admitted to the hospital, again. Call in
every week for years, I don't blame them for firing me. It is what it
is. Just sucks cause you get fired from one department, no one
else'll hire you. Can't blame the sheriff, or any of the other jobs
over the past few years. Just not good enough. No matter how hard I'm
trying, just not good enough.
‘God,
why can't I just stay in one job for more than a few months? Or even
the same house for more than a year or two? I just want my girls to
feel stable and safe.’
I
swore I wouldn't be like him. I'd be there for them, they wouldn't
have to work as kids like I did, they wouldn't have to see the things
I saw. They'd feel stable, they'd feel safe. No matter how hard I try
I just can't get it for them. I can't get them the forever house, or
the yard with a tree house, or space to ride their bikes without
dodging cars! No matter how long I work at home or away I just can't
do it! I can't keep a job long enough for a house, not like it'd do
any good anyway, cause our credit is in the trash from the medical
bankruptcies because I can't even get a job that has good enough
insurance to pay for the ER visits, or when she's admitted, or
surgeries!
She's
asked me what's wrong, I can't tell her the truth. That wonderful
woman works so hard, tries so hard, and none of this is her fault,
she's just doing her best with the crap hand she was dealt. She’d
blame herself and it'd make it even worse! None of it is her fault,
it's mine! I can't even make her feel safe enough, or provided
enough! What kind of man can even make his wife feel safe, or get his
kids a treehouse!? And why is it so hard to breathe all the
time?!
‘God!
They are the best! They deserve the world! Why did you curse them
with me? I'm just not good enough for them!’
Oh
hey, look, the blackness faded and the fog is gray now, that means
the sun's almost coming up. I didn't even notice it turning gray.
There's that mile marker, that means that the bend is almost here.
Right after that bend is that stretch of path next to the cliff. It's
a good 40-foot drop. I've seen guys take falls like that and land on
their feet and survive. They were crippled for sure, but they
survived. You gotta go headfirst if you don't wanna be crippled. No
coming back from that. But feet first, better hope you got good
insurance. Not like mine.
My
insurance is basic. We qualify for Medicare, but that doesn't cover
everything, and they definitely will find any excuse not to pay for
whatever they can get away with. I know that now. Ha. We just got
basic dental and life. I made sure of that. Girls need dental care
for sure. Life insurance too, gotta make sure they're taken care of.
$200,000 plan? That's like 4 years of income right now! Maybe that's
not buying a house, but at least renting something that has a tree
house, you know? And I looked into it, if a parent dies while the
kids are still minors, the spouse can collect their social security
early, until the youngest kid is 16! The monthly social security
check is about half my paycheck too! It wouldn't be a forever
solution, but it would buy some time. The wife would be able to go
back to school and get certified in something that would allow her to
work from home. More than I can currently do, not good enough to give
that to her. No time or money right now for college or trade schools,
so at least 200 grand would give some breathing room. Breathing room,
Ha! Breathing room. That sounds nice right now.
I
tried so hard in high school, but I was just shy of being good enough
for college. 3.2 gpa, 1100 sat, 21 on act. Not the captain of any
sports team, more like the mascot. I tried so hard but still had ZERO
talent. Not bad, but just not good enough for college or any
scholarships. Not good enough for military. Not good enough for
police! Not good enough in sales, or security, or even the
businesses I've tried to start and failed! Not even good enough for
most warehouses now a days! Not good enough husband or father! I
promised that I wouldn't be like him, but is it possible that I am
even worse?
In
sports they told me to do your best and leave it in the field, that
way you're not haunted by wondering if you could have done better.
Ha! I've left it all in the field and you know what? I know that I
absolutely could not have done better! I did my best all the time,
all my life, and I still failed, again and again and again! Oh hey
look, I’ve reached the bend in the path. Almost there.
At
least if I slacked off like my dad did, I would have been comforted
knowing that I could do better, that maybe if I just tried a little
harder or acted a little smarter, but I can't! That just means one
thing! That I'm plain and simply not good enough! I’ve been
running full force at a brick wall my entire life, trying to break it
open, just like I see so many other people doing. Break through that
wall and enjoy the other side. But it won't break! And even when I
see a crack in the wall and I get some hope, the crack seems to heal
itself and I’m back to smashing into the now healed wall. How
is it even possible that a wall can heal itself?! I am so sick of
smashing into this barrier of life and being stuck, of seeing my
family stuck on this side! Man, the fog is still thick, and the
freezing wind is howling in my ears, it’s so loud!
‘God,
why is it so loud all the time? Why is it so hard to breathe all the
time?! Why does this never stop?!’
But
then everything did stop. Everything was suddenly very still.
How
did this deer let me get so close? I know the fog is too thick to see
through, but shouldn't it have heard me coming and taken off? I'm so
close that I can see its bristly hairs flick around in the wind. I
can see marks and scars on its chest and muddy hoofs. It's so
small, is it a doe? No, I can see a small nub where its antler is
growing back for the year, and there's a scar on the other side of
his head, right where the other antler should be growing back. This
is a tiny little buck.
The
fog’s getting caught up by this wind. It drifts past the buck;
I can see a bit further now. It's not just the buck, he's got his
little herd behind him. Two does and two tiny fawns. Do they birth
this early in the year? I guess that's why the fawns are so small,
barely born. They all just stand there, completely frozen. Not a
muscle moves, not even the fawns. Even I am frozen. We all just stare
at each other. The fog is clearing a bit more, and the sun is
starting to spill out.
The
fog steps aside just enough to see the cliffs and the rocky peak
above, layered with heavy grey and white clouds, but it's still too
thick to allow the sun's rays to move freely. Not that I'm
complaining. The light breaks and plays with the ice in the air. Most
sunrises aren't like this; they are just bright and yellow. The
clouds by the mountain peak and even the cold fog around me ignite.
Purple, red, orange, blue, every color I can think of. It surrounds
me, dances around me, with a blurry golden circle in the sky casting
streams down like some Renaissance painting. The deer don't seem to
notice this feast for the eyes; unflinching, they still just stare at
me.
I
take a long, quiet breath in, so deep that my frozen lungs ache,
stabbing pains fill my ribs as they're stretched beyond capacity. The
smell of pine and whispering Aspen fill my senses. Why didn't I
notice that smell before? It reminds me of camping trips as a kid,
right here in these mountains. Those trips were some of the only good
memories I have with dad. Maybe, especially in those moments, maybe
he was also doing his best too; and failing just like me too. I hold
it in, hold my breath, but I don't feel panicked anymore, just a
quiet peace slowly seeping into my muscles. I let out the breath as
slow as I can, the streamy air flickering away to be absorbed into
the fog and cloud.
I
can see where the bend in the trail ends and the straight path
begins; and I can see the cliff next to it, what intended to be my
final destination on this hike. And there’s the deer, still
unmoving, blocking my way.
Slowly,
I take one step back. Then another. I don't turn around, I keep my
eyes on the deer and they keep their eyes on me. Don't spook them.
One step at a time, slowly. How long has it been since I've done
something slowly like this?
They
disappear back into the fog, still in the same position. Still
unmoving. I can turn and walk normal now. It's a cold walk back down
the mountain, but the cold isn't bothering me anymore. It's a cold
drive home too. Cold, but quiet. Cold but still.
When
I get home, the windows and rooms are still dark. I climb back into
bed and stretch out my arm past several sleeping girls toward my
wife, her sleepy hand tightening around mine is the first warmth felt
all morning. Several little heads climb up and rest on my arm, using
it like a pillow. Warmth. Another girl climbs up on me and rests her
head on my chest. Warmth. Salty, silent tears running out of my eyes
and into my hair. Warmth.
‘Oh
good God, my dear heavenly father. I am so sorry. I am so blind and
stupid. Thank you God. This. This is everything.’
Well,
my perfect girls, I gotta say that I'm sorry that it's just me. I'm
sorry that I'm what you've been given. I'm sorry that I'm not enough.
But I think that it'll be ok, because even if I'm not, I think that
all of us together can be. We're enough, together. And I swear that
even if it's just me; lowly, not good enough me, you will still have
me. All of me. All of me forever.
I've
gotta get up in about an hour to get off to work. Really, I should
get up a bit sooner to get these girl’s breakfast; but first
let's just take a few more minutes for this. Just a few minutes to be
in this moment. Just a few minutes to be still. To be quiet. To
breathe. Gotta remember to breathe.
I
have been an aspiring writer for the past few years, but have met
limited responses. I've had some op-eds published in the past few
months, and though they were unpaid, it was still a good success for
me. I am from Utah and have spent most of my life here. Most
important things to know about me is that I'm a
father and
husband.
(Unless
you
type
the
author's name
in
the subject
line
of the message
we
won't know where to send it.)
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