Anxieyote
Sobriety over everything else • 30 • Midwest
- Mar 24, 2021
- 445
Rain patters against the window, as thunder strikes outside
"MOOOOOMMM!!" I yell, from my bedroom. "MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!" There's no answer.
My tiny fists clench the bedframe and I squeeze tightly against it. I stare at the white wall in front of me; shaking and sobbing.
"Mom?" I ask again, tentatively. There's still no answer.
I listen to the rain falling against the window, as my eyes search the room in the dark. I can see my nightstand with my tiny television set and cassette player. Tears stream down my cheeks, as I recall the details of the room in my mind as best as I can. It's been 18 years since I lived there.
I lean my tiny body against the end of the bed. I close my eyes, and open them again. I had a closet too. And the closet had my clothes and toybox inside. The toybox was a big blue container. I had a Bop-It and a Marble Maze with a lot of different colored plastic pieces. If you connected them all, you could drop marbles in the funnel on top and watch them slide to the bottom through all of the crazy tubes.
My dresser was on the right side of the room. I had a blue crate that I kept some books in. I had a Pokémon book that was really good, and I read it a lot when I was bored. It was a retelling of the first episode of the anime. I'm trying to remember the rest of the room, but I can't.
I stare out into the hallway.
Mom and Dad's bedroom is next to to mine, and my sister's bedroom is next to theirs. The bathroom is next to the stairwell. Mom would read the Harry Potter books to us at night in their bedroom. I wouldn't sit still when she was reading, and she'd always yell at me to sit still and ask, "Are you listening?" while I was flopping over the bed and doing somersaults.
I need to go downstairs.
I stand in the hallway. I can see the living room with the piano. Mom has piano lessons in here. Rebecca would come over to the house and Mom would teach her how to play piano. She had other students too. I didn't spend much time in there.
I look towards the dining room. I would watch the Simpsons and King of the Hill on the tiny TV in there until Mom and Dad got home. They always made me turn it off because those were the "bad tv shows".
The kitchen…it was always small. I didn't like it much. There was a door that led out into the garage at the end of it. Turn right, and you're in the backyard. We used to play with the guinea pigs outside and our dog Kayci. Kayci liked Mom, Dad, and my sister, but I remember her being weird around me. I always felt kind of sad about it, but I think Kayci didn't trust me.
Actually…I don't like to think about this because it's a bad memory. But even earlier when I was 7 or 8 years old, I pushed her down the stairs and broke her leg. I was scared of the dark and didn't want to go down into the basement alone, so I pushed her and she fell. I still have a vague memory of seeing her tumble and fall all the way to the bottom, and getting a sinking feeling in my chest when I say her lying at the bottom of the stairs and not moving. I felt really bad. That could've been why Kayci never liked being around me after that.
I was always scared of the basement wherever we lived. The one in the Van Fleet house may have been even scarier than the one at my first childhood home. It was unfinished, and the walls were just concrete. I remember getting a very unsettling feeling whenever I went down there, and I didn't even really like to be down there with people because it still felt ominous. We kept our Guinea pigs down there, and I would only go downstairs if my sister or Mom would go with me. There was no door to the basement, and it was just an open hallway, so if I was alone in the house during the day, I wouldn't go to the living room with the big TV because I would get too nervous being around the entrance to the basement.
Dad's office was adjacent to the basement entrance. He kept the computer in there, but he wouldn't let us play games on it. I remember one time he pulled out two games from his desk and said, "which one do you want for Christmas? You can only have one." and I had to choose between Crash Bash on PS1 or Super Mario Bros. Deluxe on the Gameboy. I remember it feeling like a very important decision, because boredom was something to be avoided at all costs when I was a kid so I had to make sure the game I chose was really entertaining. I chose Mario, but regretted it, because it wasn't as fun as Crash Bash, and it was really hard.
It hurts right now to think of more memories and my heart is beating really fast, so I need to stop remembering.
I always feel guilty to do venting posts because they don't really add anything meaningful to the discussions we have on this website, but it helps me when I am in a dark place like I am tonight. I have to invent my own versions of therapy sometimes because I'm not getting the help I need from anywhere else.
"MOOOOOMMM!!" I yell, from my bedroom. "MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!" There's no answer.
My tiny fists clench the bedframe and I squeeze tightly against it. I stare at the white wall in front of me; shaking and sobbing.
"Mom?" I ask again, tentatively. There's still no answer.
I listen to the rain falling against the window, as my eyes search the room in the dark. I can see my nightstand with my tiny television set and cassette player. Tears stream down my cheeks, as I recall the details of the room in my mind as best as I can. It's been 18 years since I lived there.
I lean my tiny body against the end of the bed. I close my eyes, and open them again. I had a closet too. And the closet had my clothes and toybox inside. The toybox was a big blue container. I had a Bop-It and a Marble Maze with a lot of different colored plastic pieces. If you connected them all, you could drop marbles in the funnel on top and watch them slide to the bottom through all of the crazy tubes.
My dresser was on the right side of the room. I had a blue crate that I kept some books in. I had a Pokémon book that was really good, and I read it a lot when I was bored. It was a retelling of the first episode of the anime. I'm trying to remember the rest of the room, but I can't.
I stare out into the hallway.
Mom and Dad's bedroom is next to to mine, and my sister's bedroom is next to theirs. The bathroom is next to the stairwell. Mom would read the Harry Potter books to us at night in their bedroom. I wouldn't sit still when she was reading, and she'd always yell at me to sit still and ask, "Are you listening?" while I was flopping over the bed and doing somersaults.
I need to go downstairs.
I stand in the hallway. I can see the living room with the piano. Mom has piano lessons in here. Rebecca would come over to the house and Mom would teach her how to play piano. She had other students too. I didn't spend much time in there.
I look towards the dining room. I would watch the Simpsons and King of the Hill on the tiny TV in there until Mom and Dad got home. They always made me turn it off because those were the "bad tv shows".
The kitchen…it was always small. I didn't like it much. There was a door that led out into the garage at the end of it. Turn right, and you're in the backyard. We used to play with the guinea pigs outside and our dog Kayci. Kayci liked Mom, Dad, and my sister, but I remember her being weird around me. I always felt kind of sad about it, but I think Kayci didn't trust me.
Actually…I don't like to think about this because it's a bad memory. But even earlier when I was 7 or 8 years old, I pushed her down the stairs and broke her leg. I was scared of the dark and didn't want to go down into the basement alone, so I pushed her and she fell. I still have a vague memory of seeing her tumble and fall all the way to the bottom, and getting a sinking feeling in my chest when I say her lying at the bottom of the stairs and not moving. I felt really bad. That could've been why Kayci never liked being around me after that.
I was always scared of the basement wherever we lived. The one in the Van Fleet house may have been even scarier than the one at my first childhood home. It was unfinished, and the walls were just concrete. I remember getting a very unsettling feeling whenever I went down there, and I didn't even really like to be down there with people because it still felt ominous. We kept our Guinea pigs down there, and I would only go downstairs if my sister or Mom would go with me. There was no door to the basement, and it was just an open hallway, so if I was alone in the house during the day, I wouldn't go to the living room with the big TV because I would get too nervous being around the entrance to the basement.
Dad's office was adjacent to the basement entrance. He kept the computer in there, but he wouldn't let us play games on it. I remember one time he pulled out two games from his desk and said, "which one do you want for Christmas? You can only have one." and I had to choose between Crash Bash on PS1 or Super Mario Bros. Deluxe on the Gameboy. I remember it feeling like a very important decision, because boredom was something to be avoided at all costs when I was a kid so I had to make sure the game I chose was really entertaining. I chose Mario, but regretted it, because it wasn't as fun as Crash Bash, and it was really hard.
It hurts right now to think of more memories and my heart is beating really fast, so I need to stop remembering.
I always feel guilty to do venting posts because they don't really add anything meaningful to the discussions we have on this website, but it helps me when I am in a dark place like I am tonight. I have to invent my own versions of therapy sometimes because I'm not getting the help I need from anywhere else.
