THE TALE #11 - Hips Don't Lie!
The days that followed are some of the oddest days of my life. Normally, when one experiences emotion, there is a thought, or an image, or someone says something that triggers an emotional response. For me, I simply felt emotions now emulating from my hips, almost as if my hips were another person, or if they were talking to me, or if they weren't even connected to my body. I felt random emotions manifesting out of what seemed like nothing all. Random, totally messed up emotions channeling out of my hips.
As I taught class, I could feel "sad melancholy" emulating from my hips. As I drove home, I could feel the "tears of a sad little lost boy." Sometimes my hips would actually burn in the front, right and left as if someone was tearing their fingernails into my pelvis. And my hip crease, where the pelvis connects with the upper leg was almost always in a spasm. When I went to release it, stretch it, I would cry, shake and bounce.
I was so scared.
Meanwhile, my home life was falling apart. There was this unknown energy or entity somehow trapped between my girlfriend and I which I had named THE MATTRESS, or MY TIGHT HIP. I couldn't talk about the emotional aspect, it made no sense, and if I went there, to my girlfriend it would looked like I was going mad.
In my soul, I knew I wasn't going nuts. There was no doubt. I knew it wasn't my mind. But there was some crazy energy/entity/memory in me demanding to be released and my BODY couldn't hold it in.
Was this a nervous breakdown?
When I was 10, my father suffered from what I was told was a "nervous breakdown" and was admitted into St. Vincent's Psychiatric Hospital in Harrison where he was given shock therapy and stayed for a number of months. For most of my life, I feared that someday, I too would lose it, go crazy and be sent away. Was this that moment? My self-fulfilling prophecy manifesting out of YOGA catapulting me into the fucked up footsteps of my crazy father?
Before we go any further, I just want to give you a little backstory about my father so you can better understand this tale. My memories of Dad are two-fold and that was the problem. When I was young, he was a tyrant, angry and unavailable. At this time, in my story here, I didn’t remember much of the angry time with him but I did remember him as alway being mad. After St. Vincents and his shock therapy, he and my mother divorced, and something happened in him. He saw the abusive person that he had become, and he vowed to change and to dedicate himself to truly loving his 5 children to make amends for his abusive behavior. He went back to the Church. He studied scripture, and he did everything in his power to bring joy into our lives.
We became his Raison D’etre, his reason to live.
And he became the father, I always dreamed of.
He died in 1989 of a heart attack.
Yes, I remembered and understood then that he beat me.
But was there more?
NO! NO! NO! NO! I LOVE YOU, DADDY!
So now there was this mystery in me. Somewhere, sometime in my past, crazy things happened to me. I had no real conscious memories of these events, but my hips were somehow trying to communicate with me.
What? MY HIPS WERE TRYING TO COMMUNICATE WITH ME?
Yes, or the emotion in the hips, or the energy trapped in my hips, or the entity in my hips, whatever you would like to call it.
A whole new past was unfolding before me. What the hell happened to me as a child? And what the heck is happening in my body?
And deep down inside, I knew what was coming out of my hips was real. Coming out, maybe not in a proper order, or the proper cognitive packaging, but it was coming out. And it was real - the CREEPY MONSTERS and The DARK MEN that I made myself FORGET in order to survive...
oh please, no...