I remembered that it all started with voices just before I lost any ability to discern them. What were they saying? Finis…finished, perhaps—I couldn’t tell. And, where did they go? After which followed darkness and an incomprehensive enlightenment. It was a place somewhat clear and cloudy; peaceful, then stormy. I was in this bubble of disbelief. It seemed like a pit of despair—albeit engaging and convincing. It was a dichotomy of terms meaning…what?—an end—finis.
I laid there motionless—too confused and afraid to move. I didn’t know if I could move, but I felt with every natural spasm my body suffered I was slowly sinking beneath a blanket of an uneven plane. It felt as if the slightest movement would sink me further into this obscure place but at a fragile pace. I could sense degrees of delicate friction and from it some dissonant sounds about me. For a moment I also thought I heard muffled voices outside myself again. Not knowing where I was or what was happening, I didn’t want to say anything lest I was in some kind of trouble until it quieted again. But I also couldn’t dismiss the systemic panic setting in that it was the end—finis.
I couldn’t help but think the end was here, near—fait accompli, finis. Katy bar the door.
It was a rude awakening into the depths of my imagination. One minute I was shopping with my family, doting on each other, having a good time, playing hide and seek with my son in the endless interior designs of the IKEA floors, and next I’m in limbo—in a deep “sleep”: one moment you’re going about your life and the next thing you know I am lying there lost, scared, and confused. The world somehow had metamorphosed and left me in some state of nothingness to speculate: What’d just happened? Am I dead? For now, it felt I was…paralyzed—and alone.
It felt as if my eyes were open—or were they closed, but I was dreaming I was awake? I don’t know. I was just stunned in some intermediary world without an inference to any allusions as to how I came to find myself in this predicament. Until I can come to terms with my inability to comprehend this dilemma, I didn’t want to move.
Is this a dream? Was I dying? Or dead? Was my life really kaput, the end, finis? It was not painful, nor scary, I simply ceased to exist in any form of a tangible reality. I lost all concept of time. But, it was not the only thing I lost: I lost all known personality of me.
I had gone from the love of my family to cumbersome entropy of everyday life to exploding into an arresting dichotomy: fear and tranquility—if that makes any sense.
It seemed serene, but there was something peculiar about this place, and utterly wrong. Perhaps I was being punished for something juvenile in some infantile manner. I wasn’t ready to accept I may be dead, but it sure felt like it. My life hadn’t even flashed by as many people claim happens when you are dying. I would think at least the thought of family and/or regrets would streak by me. What was happening? And why?
Perception had abandoned me and stripped my essence to bare instinct. I wanted to survive whatever this was. But I didn’t know what to expect except that my fear was now germinating from my growing sense of loneliness. But, that feeling was also now in flux. It wasn’t long before another serious threat came to hijack my insecurities: uncertainty.
Again, despite rational abandonment, I felt there was this immense sense of calm—warm and comfortable without compromising cold and disturbing. It was conflicting, but painless and nice as far as my senses revealed. But if I tried to make any physical repositioning of myself, I felt my body sway. I could feel a ripple through this plane of existence for which slightest move caused me to sink more, which then made me tense all the more. I then discovered that if I spread myself outright, I could avoid sinking, but anything other than calculated movements deemed I would get sucked in even further down this irresolute nightmare.
But without a conceptual compass—uncertainty is how you tread water. I tried telling myself that everything would be okay, but when you don’t know what’s happening, it’s a comfort that promises nothing.
The place I was in seemed like a very calming environment, I have to add. Whether closed or partly opened, my eyes noticed colors. Colors are good. It’s a world unlike the one I belonged to: it was a spectrum of colorful spherical shapes that reminded me of the memories in the Disney movie Inside Out.
I tried to maintain the focus on my internal realities: sensations, memories—my rampant imagination. And I was certain that any betrayal by my realities seemed ludicrous. But, I could breathe, and yet it felt I couldn’t get any air. I tried to move, and I’d panic; when I thought of family, I cried; when I imagined horror awaiting, it convinced me. This parallel awareness was taking its toll.
Of course, strung along thus far, mired in the convictions about death this place had placed upon me, the rational thoughts were beginning to pop into my head: I’m too young; I have done little worthwhile with my life; I’ve tried so much for nothing; what a waste! The sadness caused by believing my whole life lacked relevance sort of acquiesced the fear of dying. My senses were being plucked one-by-one.
I was floating—not in any one direction, but as if suspended in place—in the dark. Forgotten.
Woah! I think I may be dead! Finis! I feel as if I am sinking in quicksand and soon I will come out on the other side—whatever that place may be. Had I done enough? Did I do what was right for my family? Had I believed wholeheartedly? I am not sure I have answers. Or, that I’m sure I will not be here long enough to characterize this realm to anyone. But, what I realized is that there was a hint of reassurance in coming to terms with dying, that it didn’t seem so bad. It’s a conflicting trap lost somewhere in-between realms, but once you get over the fact it all ends, the disconnect is painless. Even this place will end.
But I guess when you think your life is not how you had hoped, it can seem as if you have died long ago—which makes it easier.
Then, a familiar sound buzzed in my ear—this time with promise. The sounds were faint and small. And after an indeterminable amount of time, a resounding thud broke through my transient concentration. But again, after so much quietude, I feared to do anything. Short bursts of breathing were all I could manage from keeping me from fading—or even resurrecting. My chest felt compressed.
But the sounds awoke me, and a strange sensation of remembering I exist realized in me. It was unlike anything I ever felt before. It was like coming out of a long tunnel fast to instant light. I wanted to believe this was an enouement of better things, but instead, it is the denouement of this telling tale. I WOKE UP!
The first thought to come to mind was hide-and-seek. I saw the pit; I snuck in; they wouldn’t find me here. But, I guess I overplayed the game. IKEA had closed; I had been locked in. The empty environment perpetuated this transformative state. It was not the end—finis. I had fallen asleep, but now I felt born again, and I knew loneliness was no more. It’s finished, finis, the end. I have to go home now to my family—if I can only get out of this damn ball pit. Now, if I could just get over onto my belly and push myself up, I will; otherwise, I will never get out.
For there was my son. With my head barely breaking the surface I could see him forlorn; his forehead dejectedly banging against the glass—in synchrony with the pounding of his little fist above his head. There were tears: the betrayal of something lost. My brief absence from his life had scared him. His little-broken voice called for me…Tato…Tato…Dad. If he had only been giving a chance to finish the game, he would have found me.
And when it came time to surface, as soon as my entire head broke the plane of this transcendental ball pit, I saw his little face light up through his stream of tears as he now vehemently pounded on the glass, “It’s Tato! It’s Tato! Mommy, it’s Tato!” I saw the dichotomy of life in my son’s eyes: fear and joy, joy and fear.
I guess it was the end—finis for this place…for now.
