Then it happened.
The same pattern. The same loss of control. Thinking I was in control. Thinking everything was OK. But with a near miss of a physical altercation I left.
As I had come to do over the years, I started walking.
I can walk a long way and I can be mad a long time.
And I did and I was.
This walk happened in the middle of a national forest. On a two lane highway with no lights. No moon. No stars. A dark cloudy night. I can not begin to describe the blackness that I was in both spiritually and physically.
The only light I could make out was each step on the reflecting white line, on the side of the road, it would light up under my foot. I even looked up to the sky to see if there was any light that would be causing that to happen.
I chalked it up to being drunk. I just followed the white line till I blacked out. I didn’t come to until about ten miles later. I know it was ten miles because the road I was on ran for seven miles in the direction I was headed and intersected a county highway. I was well beyond that when I sobered up enough to realize where I was.
I started talking to God. Mad, for the umpteenth time, listening to deer I scared snort and bound off of the road.
Putting my pocket knife to my throat, working up the courage to finally end it. Just walk into the woods and bleed out.
And then there was a bear.
I can’t describe the darkness, I couldn’t see the hand in front of my face with my hand touching my face, much less a black bear.
I think it was a bear because of the growl. I yelled, “HEY! GET OUTTA HERE!”
It left, I heard it go.
Then…
I heard it come back. A short charge, two or three steps with a huff. I went at it again, this time kicking gravel in it’s face, in the general direction of the noise.
I can not describe well enough the blackness of that night.
After the bear incident I was really angry. I started yelling at God. I could not understand how He could allow such a thing in a persons life. I told him how I tried but couldn’t do anything about it.
Over the years I had contemplated suicide more and more as an option. Something would always stop me and I would chalk it up to being a coward.
I would replay the pattern over and over in my mind. I would pray for him to remove it. I would pray and explain to Him how I did not believe that this was His will for me, that I knew what I was thinking was wrong thinking.
I screamed at Him, pressing my little pocket knife into my neck, “YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!”
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