As you begin to decend into the underworld, the world between reality and the gates of the unknown that only a few get to walk between two worlds it happens so slowly that reality becomes your insanity and your walking alone amongst them what’s re what’s not, who are you to say I don’t see what I’ve seen who’s to say it’s not a real dimension only a few have broken enough to find it. This particular incident embarassed me so greatly within a month we had packed up and moved across the country, how can I face people who are so affraid of me, me.. I’m a modern day nightmare.
It was very busy at work, around the clock calls coming in we were all exhausted that phone just kept rining ing the grim reapers calls. I often say that at times there are death waves as if the reaper is flying low in a certain area, it’s so odd. I had been going flat out families making arrangements, embalming, transfers the files and obituaries it’s a lot to remember and coordinate on s average day times like these are a blur. The madness crept in somewherecalinevtge way the devil crawled in. Reality becomes my own this day Pandora vented her demons via me. The white static began to shiver and vibrate days become, that muffling static that heightens your awareness. I had too much to do to stop and see the changes. I remember walking down the carpet steps towards the display room, the casket and urn selection area. I walked into that room me and came out possessed. I left that grieving family standing there alone. Everything from that moment on is in flashes between worlds. Brad found me in the garage talking to myse, or someone. I saw him and like a raft I returned. I could see the fear in his eyes as I looked over his shoulder our boss the owner Dave was standing behind him, the fear in his eyes, instant shame is the feeling. We had a funeral and no one else but us could go and if there’s any job that you put the family above yourself like a Funeral professional. We placed the wooden casket into the hearse, loaded up and headed to church. Flashes of completing the mass I see thank goodness I had clarity for a but. The family walk behind me as I lead them behind their mother to the coach. We all proceed to the grave. It was a white out snow storm in Newfoundkand the wind was burning the flesh as we huddled around her casket before lowering. I go to stand at the coach as Brad completed the burial service with Father. I turn to watch the casket lower I always watch the casket slowly fall to our final resting place I saw my family. I saw my father and aunt crying, I saw the picture of my grams. It was my families funeral. I began to cry hysterically, brad looks back at me hands still clasped he looked terrified he walks over and pushes me into the hearse, hun just a minute. The doors lock I screaming in sadness start hitting on the window my fingers streaking the steamed windows from my crys. My family standing around her casket turn and look at me I sob clawing at the glass.. Then it’s strangers standing around a grave looking at me, shiver…my family,, strangers,, family.. This hysteria races, complete psychosis, the devil took the wheel.
I don’t remember the drive back to work but I remember walking into the garage full of my peers and management. I was a complete mess Dave tells brad to take me to get help. The shame of that moment haunts me. I’m a young woman in a mans world who just lost my job and respect. Not my fault but that’s the reality of my disease.
The mess I made that day is shameful and I still feel nauseous when I think of how I behaved, it’s not a movie or a story it’s me, my life my actions my mind my body my career. As treatment was sought I came out that hospital ready to run. To this day I’ve notbreturned to St. John’s out of fear of seeing a old colleague that may have seen that.
Shame is a hard pill to swallow