Chapter 3: What Happened To Me


I thought I woke up in the chair my friends said they put me in.  I was in the family room of the house.  This was the biggest room in the entire house.  I remember there was a bar that actually had liquor in it, a high powered stereo system, and an assortment of nice furniture to crash on.  There was shag carpet on the floor so if needs be, someone could crash on the floor.  The walls in the room were paneled and there was a door on the northern wall of the room.  There were two windows in the room as well. I was in a black Lazy Boy, wondering where my friends were, as well as wondering what my body was doing.


You see, when I woke up, I could feel the organs in my body working, each one separately and in turn in harmony with the others.  I could direct my focus on each of my organs and feel their vibration or I could enjoy all of them as one. I could quite plainly hear and feel my heart steadily beating and thoroughly enjoyed feeling my own blood rushing throughout my entire body.  Oddly enough, I could actually hear the sounds all of the organs made.  They sounded like music.  All of them together created a strange, yet familiar and wonderful song of sorts that I cannot even begin to describe.  I will say that it was a wonderful harmony that rang true to my heart and the feeling felt right to me.


Eventually, I began to feel my organs begin to shut down.  I first felt that my glands were slowing down. As each of them slowed, their part of the beautiful symphony changed.  Eventually, when they stopped altogether, their part in the song was gone.  Next, went my stomach, liver, and kidneys.  Like my glands, all of the rest of my organs slowly stopped, the last of which was my heart.  I actually heard the heart stop and felt my blood stop moving.  There was an eerie silence then.  I didn't know what to think of that at all.  I remembered what my friend had told me about doing enough of the drug to kill me, but I was conscious of what I was feeling, so I figured I wasn't dead.


Suddenly, I heard the stereo playing songs from a Doors album, except the volume was way too loud for me.  I didn't worry too much then because I thought that if I heard the stereo then I surely couldn't be dead.  Needless to say, I felt relieved, but the music was still too loud for me.  I had progressed past a point where hearing the song my body had been playing was overridden by Jim Morrison.  I did enjoy loud rock music then, and still do, so at that moment I wondered why all of a sudden the music bothered me.  At that point, the music began to become very annoying, but it wasn't the same as hearing my body in the amplified manner I had been hearing it.  The songs were definitely not the same.


I couldn't see my friends anywhere.  I could see in all the rooms of the house at the same time just by thinking about them.  The ability seemed totally natural to me and I didn't question it at all.  I found the entire house to be empty.  All there was in the house was me and the music.  Since I didn't see any friends, I got up and tried to turn the music down but couldn't. I couldn't find the volume control.  I couldn't find the plug either.  No matter what I did, the music kept playing louder and louder.  I knew that stereo well too.  I had a serious problem with the noise.  It was clawing at me and I couldn't figure out why or how I could adjust the volume or to just turn the thing off.


I called out for my friends and nobody came. I tried to unplug the stereo again but that still didn't work.  I found the cord but I couldn't grab it no matter how many times I tried.  The stereo just kept on playing songs from a Doors album. The sound in general rattled my very being.  It just grew louder and louder and I couldn't stop it. I had no sense of touch whatsoever.  I thought it must be just the effects of the drugs and it would wear off over time.  I felt alive, but I still definitely needed to do something about the noise that was growing increasingly louder every second.  I became afraid because what I knew to do in this type of situation had no effect.


I ran all over the house calling for my friends, shrieking that the music was too loud. I was not heard.  I didn't see them around anyway.  I resorted to begging for the music to be turned down.  I tried to go outside to escape the noise but since I couldn't feel the doorknob, I couldn't turn it.  I saw the daylight outside through the window but couldn't get out there.


I looked out the window.  Everything outside looked very odd to me.  Everything was more detailed than normal.  I saw colors around things I could not see before and didn't know what they were.  I really wanted to go out there and explore the world, but couldn't figure out how I could make that happen.  I was curious.  Opening doors and windows and turning down the volume all were beyond my capabilities at that point.

 I ended up hiding in the bathroom in an unsuccessful attempt to escape the noise.  I tried to pee but couldn't grab it.  I tried to wash my face but couldn't work the faucet.  Like the stereo, the door, and everything else, I couldn't feel any of them.  I couldn't even pick up a towel so I could use it to muffle the music that seemed to be crawling toward me through the bottom of the door!


I happened to look in the mirror and discovered that I couldn't see myself.  That put me over the edge right then and there.  I started to panic.  I could not see me, feel me, or touch me or anything else.  I ran around the house crying like a baby and calling for my friends to help me, but nobody answered me and nobody came to help.  Running was becoming harder to do too.  Have you ever run in a dream and not gotten anywhere?  That is exactly what trying to move around felt like to me.


I finally found my way back into the family room and saw my body sitting in the chair.  It looked like I was sleeping.  I wondered how I could be looking at myself.  I was kind of glad to see me there, but wondered then how I could be in two places at once.  I became even more scared then because I saw me from outside of me from all different angles, except from the inside angle I was used to seeing from.  All I had to do was think of the angle I wanted and immediately my view changed to the one I thought of, except that inside one.  I didn't like how I looked in any of the angles.  I looked ugly and I could tell there was something missing. I had this feeling that what was missing was me that was looking at my body.  I still felt alive though.


I was alone too.  I was confused and terrified.  I frantically attempted to get back into my body by sitting on it a few times but couldn't connect to it.  My body seemed every bit as untouchable as everything else I tried touching.  I couldn't touch the ground either.  I was floating.  I rose up slowly into a spot just above and to the left of my body and kind of just hung there for a bit.  It became even harder to move. I screamed out for help again and nobody came.  Somehow I managed to get to the door again, but like before, I still couldn't touch the doorknob.  I didn't know what to do.  All of the things I thought I should do, I couldn't do because my physical self would not accept the commands I gave it.  I didn't understand what was happening to me at all and had run out of ideas of what to do about it.


I went back near my body and thought to ask God to help me.  I figured that lots of people pray to something, maybe it would work for me too.  I didn't believe in God then, but I was kind of angry at him because of the difficult life I was experiencing.  I reasoned that if God were really the omnipotent and omniscient being the Christian religions taught me he was, he would not have allowed me to experience the pain and hardship I had experienced throughout my life.  I felt that since that God allowed me to experience the suffering I must have done something to deserve it.  After all, the churches said that not following the 10 Commandments meant damnation and punishment eternal. I thought maybe since I didn't live my life perfectly according to what the religions taught me I was experiencing punishment for it through my suffering.


I used to pray to God quite a bit as a child because I knew in my heart that there was such a being and that was well before I was taught of him by the churches.  The Gods the churches taught me and the God I knew in my heart were very different.  When I prayed for keeps, I prayed to the God of my heart, not the ones the churches sought to make me aware of.  It's hard for me to explain really.  I think the difference between the two is that the God that the churches taught me was a God who punishes while the God of my heart is loving and kind and does not punish. He creates positive things.  The God of my heart would accept me regardless of what I had ever done and help me try to fix it.  The God of the churches seemed to me to be conditional with his love, even to the point that he would choose to give up on his creations and destroy them or send them to what they call hell.  I didn't believe in the God of the churches because I didn't feel God to be unable to love without condition.


Actually, the more deeply I thought about it, I knew the God of my heart was the only friend I had that I could talk to and trust he would listen.  I was certain he would help me regardless of anything I have ever done, if I approached him with the feelings of my heart.  I thought that if there ever was a time I needed that God, it was now! I thought: God, my friend, I really need some help here and I know that if anyone can help me, it would be you. Will you please help me?  I think I might have seriously messed up this time.?  I wasn't disappointed with the result of my plea for help.