“Whew,” I was drenched in dry sweat. I sprung off the bed and ran to the bathroom. “What had happened?” I thought. It might have been a bad dream. It might have been real. All my fears came to life - at once, against me. For the nine-year-old Richie I was, the experience implanted a lasting impression in my cognitive mindset. I heard the footsteps of a doctor getting audible. Then, a few doctors stopped beside my bed. Naturally, seeing a defibrillator connected to pads that were on my chest and surgical scalpels everywhere, I felt scared.

“Plop, plop, plop,” I was drenched with cold sweat. I tried going to sleep after finishing a Wikipedia article on the dirty history of Chinese court life. Night was falling upon me, and I had started to get scared, “What if the vile people I just read about came to life and did exactly what had been described in the article?” Dirty thoughts raced throughout my mind. I started imagining ghosts instilled at the door, waiting for me to come out, and then grab me. I had a great interest in history, but this interest was about to stop - 1 month later. Day and night, the thoughts of vile human beings haunted my mind. Along with my regular life problems as an 11 year old - like my parent’s relationship, I struggled with mental health. I started facing my fears. This only allowed me to become depressively scared.

Four months later, this fondness of history brought me to an ancient waterfall in China. Two Wushu masters supposedly dueled here, and an emperor supposedly died here. The Qing court supposedly fled here when the Eight Nation Alliance took over Beijing in the late Qing dynasty.  With my foolish attitude of doing mostly what my parents told me not to do, I brought myself too close to the edge and “whoosh!”.

“Bam!” I fell twenty feet into a pile of brush in brackish. I did not feel any pain. I realized that I had never hit the ground - I thought so. I wondered when the drop would stop. Floating around in empty space, I tried to bring my thoughts together. At the hands of indescribable pain, I thought,
“What is this, a corollary from God?”
“Christians would be critiquing me on the sins I might have done”.
Nobody is perfect, by the Christian standards they claim they follow, everyone would be in hell.

Bam! I fell spread eagled onto some seemingly rigid material. I could not move. All my bones were terribly deformed. “Shoot!” “What is wrong with me?” There were no people there, and no sound. A glowing book stood in the center of darkness. Surrounded by fire and not burning, the book sprouted a voice, “Welcome, you have reached your final destiny. You can either suffer for eternity or choose rebirth - resurrection.” I thought for a moment.
“Resurrection” I thought.
“No wait. I’ll be here anyways.”
“Well, so what is it?”
“I want rebirth, I have not enjoyed life yet.”
“Well, you can, but things will be hard at first, when you get over it, your life will become astronomically better.”

I thought the book was trying to teach me a lesson, but I was wrong, terribly wrong. As the book of hell transformed into a shaded figure, I hallucinated. I recognized the figure.
“This seems like the vile person from Wikipedia.”
“May your thoughts deceive you.”
I saw a distorted image. Then two translucent images overlapping one another. “sccshch!” The hooded figure rose and raised its hand. It effortlessly conjured a seemingly lightning bolt like material. It projected onto me. As I braced for pain, pain crept into every single cavity and crevice in my body. Creepy thoughts graced my mind and tingling pain took advantage of me. The figure telepathically controlled my mind and made a clear statement,
“You are here because you have fears.”
“No! I thought, I will never get over them!”
“Stop!”

I did not think the journey was long. My pain suddenly stopped. I looked at my forearm. It was fixed. I sighed with relief as my torture subsided. Then I heard my parents fighting.
“Why would you let him so loose?”
“It’s not my fault”
“Shut up!”
My parents never tried to hide their fights. This fight revived the memory of the fights I had experienced before. The combination of fears and relationship problems left the better part of my childhood in a pile of detritus. I fainted.

Then, I had a dream.
“What the heck is your problem!”
“I don’t know, maybe we were just not meant for each other!”
“Ok let’s get divorced!”
“Sure, why would I care? I would live better without you!”
This dream was replicating one of the fights I had experienced before. It was the first one I understood. It was the first time I realized I was the cause of my parents not getting divorced.
    “Richie, the only reason why me and your dad are not getting divorced is because of YOU AND YOUR SISTER!”
    “Mom, I’m sorry that I exist.”
    “Kill me,” I said.

I felt like my sister and I were the main causes of unhappiness between my parents. Although I found out later that it started way before I was born. I cried myself awake. My parents both hugged me like nothing ever happened. I sighed with relief.

For the next few months, I had a series of mental spasms and depression periods coming from the accident and the bad relationships between my parents (still loved them and did not want them to separate). Although I loved both parents, I was biased towards my mom because she supported me wholeheartedly to whatever I did. This was not the case with my dad. I wondered how my parents even met. I wondered if I was just an object of accidence. I thought I was a useless piece of junk that was not supposed to be in this world!
“Why is my life like this!”
“Why!”
I wanted to commit suicide. I reacted wildly to any small discontent I had. For example, my mom came late to pick me up from school, and I shouted at her for 20 minutes straight (this only made her feel worse). I still put up my usual, funny attitude at school, occasionally leaking some information to my friends. My friends never supported me. I realized the truth - the only one in the world that could help me was myself. This, along with my mean dad (who was sometimes nice) who always yelled at me for the smallest of misdemeanors, I fell into bipolar depression. I soon found out about meditation and started practicing six hours a day, at night. Once, when I was in a trance, a voice spoke to me,
“ Richie, you have done well”
I felt enlightened.
“I feel enlightened.”
“That’s because you are.”
The echo slowly faded away into the sound of the night, and I fell asleep.”
I had a dream, it helped me cope through life, like the book in hell said. I suddenly realized nothing in life really mattered. It helped me find my inner peace and allowed me to realize the truth of life. I realized that all of this was nothing compared to the hardships that people were going through in third world countries. I thought of the book.

    Now, I did not think of this as an excuse to stop working hard, but it allowed me to overcome obstacles I encountered. If I tried my best and still got a D, I would still be content with the result. I tried my hardest, that is all I needed to know.

    Over the next few months, my life slowly floated upwards. I took it easier than before. I had recovered from bipolar depression and was in better mental health than before. I suddenly felt the joy of living like never before. Whenever I got bullied, I recalled the moments I went through. Whenever I found myself in moments of discontent or depression, I recalled that what I was going through was nothing. I am grateful, when it comes to this memory, that it was disposed of upon me.