Читать книгу Your Journey to Success: How to Accept the Answers You Discover Along the Way - Kenny Weiss - Страница 5

It was the middle of the night and the house was pitch black. I stumbled down the hallway using my hands to feel the walls because turning on lights in the middle of the night was not acceptable. I knew the walk well. I had navigated it many times in the dark. My small hand found the familiar trim and case molding of the doorjamb to the bathroom. Because closing the door in a normal way could instigate a thunderous reprimand, I had a method to avoid making any noise. With one hand on the doorknob, I would slowly and silently turn the knob so the bolt was inside the door. To avoid any creaking in the door hinges, I would use the other hand to apply pressure against the door, stiffening the hinges, taking out any slack and therefore any noise. The door-closing process could take between ten and fifteen seconds.

Once the door was closed without incident, a sense of relief washed over me. The most treacherous part of using the bathroom at night was over. Or so I thought. As I tiptoed toward the toilet, I was still in the dark in the outer vanity area because even the light coming from under the door could cause problems with my parents. I had to wait until I got to the water closet to turn on the light. My left hand located the doorjamb. Just inside on the wall at about chest height I found the light switch and flipped it on. I froze. There was my mother, passed out naked on the toilet.

Immediately, I felt a rush beginning in my feet, an electrical warmth filling both legs simultaneously. Envision something like the old Star Trek show when they were transported out of the USS Enterprise. As the rush accelerated and began to overtake me, I heard myself screaming inside, “I’m changing, I’m changing.” I instinctively knew that who I was up until that moment at age ten was leaving me. I would never be that person again. The “I” or “me” that I knew was dying and I could do nothing to stop it. Just before the final surge of electricity swept over me, the completion of my previous life, I tried to shake my mom awake. I attempted to sit her up and begged her to speak to me. That’s when the tears started to cascade down my face and the panic set in, “Mom, please don’t be dead. Please Mom, wake up.”

I have no memory of what happened next. I felt as if I were transported out of my body like Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock being beamed to an alien planet. I had to separate from this moment before I could be put back together and go to another place. My next memory is being on the couch in the family room cradled in my dad’s arms. My head is buried in his chest. His powerful hands are rubbing the hair on my head as I am sobbing uncontrollably. I only recall one piece of the conversation. I had asked my dad, “How long has this been going on?” He replied, “Kenny, this has been going on for years.” It was then I was hit with the next most intense feeling I have ever experienced. This was the first time I felt it. Shame, utter and complete shame. I literally convulsed as I replied, “Oh my God, Dad, I’m so sorry. Look at how upset I am. I have only seen this once, but you have been dealing with this for years. I feel so selfish!” Physically, emotionally, I became a different person right then and there. That night, everything changed. The trauma took away my sense of self and my inherent power. My trauma changed who I was as a person. I now felt rejected, inadequate, powerless, and worthless.