This is probably poorly written not well thought out and honestly probably dark enough that you won't want to read it. I urge you if you happen to be a child or someone who doesn't do will with dark subject matter not to read this. But this was in my heart tonight and I need to get it out. For those of you who do read it, I hope it reveals more about who I am and who I want to be more than it freaks you out. Please don't think ill of me for wanting to share this....
Atlanta, GA. 1996
"Dickhead."
Then there was nothing, utter blackness and heat.
As I slowly came back into focus I felt the sickening crunch of a stranger's jawbone on my balled left fist. Before anyone could speak or move, I saw the first trickle of blood oozing from the corner of that pompous man's twisted mouth. As I became aware again of myself I realized that I had gone into that place that scared me so much.
This was a grown man laying sprawled before a 12 year old kid with a gashed forehead and tears and fear in his eyes were moments before he held only rage at a little girl.
This was Weaver High's football field and that fat kid's busted face and terrified expression just after he blew his nose on the quite kid's gym shirt.
This was Northside High's ROTC classroom, the guys that is supposed to be my friend holding his head where 72 stitches are about to go.
This is Macon State, with a roomful of people staring at me as I lose my grip on the guy I just drug over a table while his friends pull him away from me.
This is that dark place inside me that I never want to go to again, yet here I am.
I am a monster, at the very least I am not human, no human could just fall away from themselves and hurt someone that quickly. But I do, over and over again, and what's most frightening is that I never see it coming.
Out of fear I snatched up my backpack and calmly walked out of that place and into inner-city streets of downtown Atlanta. I have no idea where to go, or what to do so I get directions to the Greyhound station, walk there and buy a ticket back to Macon. Then I call my friend Chris and tell him that I might be a little late getting to house house that night to get my car, and relate to him what I can remember of this most recent "Black" moment. Being a great friend and concerned soul, the kind I have been blessed far too many times with in my life, Chris offers to drive up and get me so I'll have someone to talk too. He tells me to take MARTA to the airport and wait for him there.
The two hours between hanging up the phone and Chris pulling up to get me in the front of the airport go by in a blur. My head is reeling, but all I can really relate is that I was playing a stupid card game and some guy that I didn't know called me a dickhead, I got pissed and hit him and then pimped out of the joint like I was Dolomite. Chris gets a huge laugh out of the tale, assures me that I am overreacting and that its really nothing to worry over. My legend amongst many of my friends has just become concrete and this story will be spun wildly and with great indulgence by people in my life for years to come.
I look back at that night and laugh when my friends spin the tale of something they were not witness to. The next night was the darkest night of my entire life and one I have never revisited or shared with anyone until now.
The next night I went to work at my craptastic job as a night-stocker at Kroger. The whole day though I had been troubled about the day beforehand's events and the rage that could overcome me so easily. I was scared of myself and the lack of control I had over that rage. As I approached the store off of the Gray highway I just kept driving, in about and hour and a half I could make it to Athens and I had friends there I could talk to.
Along the way my mind drifted away from myself and my own anxieties, to a troubled childhood friend. A beautiful young woman who had killed herself four years prior and her lost friendship and voice made me ache more than I ever had before. She had been so soft, sweet and beautiful and life was so cruel to her that she chose to leave it. I was a beast in waiting, mean and wrathful why should life suffer me so, but not her?
Before I even realized I had done it I pulled my beat up blue Chevy off the side of the road and had walked into a stand of trees. I was crying, sobbing deeper than I had ever sobbed in my life and even though I knew what was in my mind I was like a bystander watching this freight-train roll off the tracks.
I took my belt off and tied the end off on a tree branch after making a loop with the buckle. Then placed it around my neck and calmly raised my feet and allowed the belt to start to choke me. This was how I stopped the darkness, this is how I would never be afraid of anything again. I had foolishly cried for attention and had thought about dying before, but those times were never real. Those times were just what I said, cries for attention. I wanted someone to tell me they loved me, wanted to know that they needed me around... I wanted to know I was loved.
This time was different, this time I wanted nothing. This time I wanted to become nothing. I didn't care if anyone told me they loved me or needed me.
In that dark moment though Someone told me they loved me, louder than words.
My belt broke.
The rush of blood to my head or adrenaline to my heart crashed through me like a bolt of lightning. Visions of my Mother and Father, my Brother and Grandfather filled my mind in that moment. The thought of my beloved Grandmother whose loss had hurt me so much filled me with shame as I though of Her looking down at me then. I thought of all me friends past and present who truly would miss me and then I cried at the life I almost gave away without ever really living it.
I picked myself up off the ground, left the belt hanging there and drove back home and went to bed. When I awoke the next day I went to talk to my Dad. I offered him no details but simply told him what I had tried to do and asked him to help me. I needed to be something more than I was and I needed to find myself. For the first time that I remember in my adult life I saw the true tenderness of my Father's love, and was gifted with words of great wisdom and an idea that would shape me. I have spoke before of how incredible my Parents are this time in my life speaks volumes of my Dad.
Two weeks later I left Warner Robins and drove to Indianapolis to learn to drive over the road freight trucks and I spent more than the next year after that driving all over the country. I would take my "off days" in different cities and spend whole days exploring and sight-seeing. Sometimes I went to concerts, others I just took a cab into whatever downtown I was closest to and walked and ate dinner. There were nights I got a cab back to my truck and slept before heading out to the next job and nights that I got a hotel room and slept in a strange bed and wondered about the travelers who had slept there before me and what they had been looking for.
I set out that year to see my Country and find myself... somewhere along the way I did both.
I became the person I am that year and that dark night was the most spiritual night of my life. It was a turning point and a hard lesson learned. I learned a great many things about myself that night and in the times that came after. It was and is a very powerful story that I have never shared and that is something I regret and now seek to remedy with this rambling inane babbling blog.
Tonight I had another powerful and spiritual moment in my life, and it came from a very unlikely source. A movie called The Book of Eli.
I will not give the plot of the movie away to anyone here, I will only say that what I took away from the film was the story of a man strong in his Faith who Witnessed to the world not through words but in actions and in spirit. I saw the way others will try to twist Faith into something so much less and use its purity to create something vile. I saw that the Truth is not in any one book, building or systemic ritual but rather the Truth lives inside of us all and waits to be revealed to those who need it most. I found that when we find ourselves in loving others more than we do ourselves, that we truly find our Faith. I have found and defined my Faith and I do not know where this will lead me but I like the promise of the new day dawning.
In the time I have spent since the night at that tree until now I have shown love and gratitude for all the wonderful people and things in my life, and in my heart I have been grateful to the Person who spoke to me so loud with no words and only a broken belt, and I think tonight He reminded me that I don't need words but maybe its time to improve my actions. I shall redouble my efforts to spread my Faith and my love so I may continue to give Him thanks.
The Book of Jeffrey...to be continued
