Almost Lost Read Online Free PDF Page B

world at anything I cared about. I was on the tennis team, the soccer team, a partly A student, I played a little on a lot of musical instruments, I had two cool little sisters, and then…”
    After about fifteen seconds I asked quietly, “And then?”
    â€œAnd then that dirty, bastard-shithead…”
    Almost instantly Sammy became another person, writhing and cursing loudly, incoherently, uncontrollably.
    I put my arms around him in a firm, fiercely protective manner. “Shhh…Shhh, Sammy. Let go of the pain, the hate, the anger. Shhh…relax…relax…relax.” I began gently, slowly, kneading nerve points in his shoulders, neck, and head. “Shhh, let the pressure, the rage, the tension, wilt and dissipate. Take some slooow deep breaths…”
    After a few minutes the rigid tautness in his body softened into exhaustion. He looked up with embarrassment.
    â€œI guess I’m not ready yet to face the hard-ass stuff. I had no idea it would be so tough to upchuck. One part of me wants to, but another part of me wants to bury all the crappy crap deep inside and never, never let it come to the surface till hell freezes over and beyond. The last part of me wants to snuff and get it over with. Does that make me paranoid and schizophrenic and other crazy types of stuff?”
    â€œNo, no, no, no. You’re okay, Sammy. And you’re certainly not alone in your feelings. Many, many people live all their uncomfortable lives trying not to face their pasts, or trying to pretend that the bad things that happened, didn’t happen, or thinking about suicide.”
    â€œThat’s me.”
    â€œNo! It’s not you! You are willing to dump your past garbage. Together, we just made the mistake of trying to have you dump the biggest, baddest batch first, instead of starting with the smaller emotional bangs and bruises. You still want to go through with it?”
    â€œYeah, I do. I really do. I know I’ll never feel clean and good until I get rid of all the rot-gut I’ve got packed away inside me.”
    â€œWould you like to pick a minor trauma to talk about and let the major one or ones sit for a while?”
    â€œLike, just sit and rot and rust and disgust the guts of me till my whole me collapses into one thickness like a cardboard person or someone run over by a steamroller.”
    â€œSweet, neat Sammy, it’s not that bad!”
    â€œYes, it is. I’m a Humpty Dumpty you can never put back together again.”
    â€œRemember the little blue train that you read about when you were just a child? The one that said, ‘I THINK I CAN! I THINK I CAN! I THINK I CAN!’ AND HE COULD! AND HE DID! ”
    Sammy sighed deeply. “Well, okay. I was many, many miles from home when it happened, and all I wanted was just to put space between me and…the UGH. It seemed Mom was light-distances away on another planet, but I had to—I just had to get home to her and…it was like I was all the time swimming upstream—upstream with the salmon, upstream forever.
    â€œBy the time I got home, after three bus changes, and I don’t know how many days, I was not only tired to death, I was hungry and dirty and stinky. I’d run out of money and energy and patience. I screamed at a guy in one station who sat next to me and dropped his head on my shoulder, and I cursed at the man at the ticket counter who said I was short twenty-three cents on my final ticket. I finally scrounged it up by going through every one of my pockets. I called him something I’d heard at school but had never before said myself. It was vile, but in some perverted way it made me feel good. Sick, huh?”
    â€œNot sick, just acting out hurtfulness and sadness.”
    â€œI kept thinking that when I got home everything would be better. The nightmarish things would go away, and I’d go on with my nice life as it used to be.” (Long pause.)
    â€œWhat