Supernatural Synchronicity? Unfortunate Incidents & Catastrophic Coincidences (SWC)

To start things off, I never even remotely considered that I would share the following story to anyone let alone for all who navigate through this phenomenal creation that is the world wide web. Shortly after I started write this, I realized that the amount of content involved warranted an entire book more so than a short story, therefore I decided to treat this as more of a chapter preceded by some relevant information and a summary of the events that led to my supernatural experience. I feel obligated to note that the supernatural elements in this story are quite suttle and may not meet your expectations of what a supernatural story generally entails. Having said that, the experience was very significant on a personal level and had a profound impact on my perception of the universe and how it operates.
One of the main underlying themes of this story involves questioning the idea of coincidence and the possibility of it having connections to the spiritual and supernatural realm. My fascination for this was originally cultivated through studying the work of Carl Jung, a famous psychologist who first coined the concept of synchronicity which is commonly described as deeply meaningful coincidences which occur without any causal relationship. It is coincidental in itself that my story is made up of events which occurred just over a week ago (which my brain still hasn’t fully processed) which was shortly before I happened to stumble across Jerry Ban field's Supernatural Writing Contest. It is also worth noting that the dire and downright depressing state of mind I was experiencing during the lead up to these events was expressed in a post in the form of a poem that I wrote which was, once again… coincidentally posted on Steemit a couple days before Jerry's contest. Feel free to go check it out if you’d like to read my poetic take on the internal conflict that I was dealing with throughout this story.

I will begin with some necessary background information, I am a 23-year-old male living in Australia, I have 2 older siblings, a brother and a sister. After what was a 25-year long marriage, my parents have been divorced for over 4 years, it was my father’s decision to leave, a result of a variety of complex reasons, most of which will only ever fully be understood by him. The reasons for leaving could constitute an entire story on its own so in the interest of keeping this succinct, I will just say he was deeply unhappy while living with my mother. His departure was sudden and without warning, he kind of hinted it to me a couple times not long before it happened but I don’t think I ever really comprehended the magnitude of the situation at that time or considered the magnitude of what was to follow. Ever since my father left my mother has been in a severe ongoing state of depression, a whirlwind of negativity that is soul-wrenching to observe and be around, I feel like I will only ever comprehend the smallest of fragments of the pain that a cruel and swift unexpected end to a 25-year relationship would feel like. When I was little, my mother was always the first person I looked to when I needed reassurance or encouragement, she stabilised my often-rocky emotional outlook and always found a way to soothe my introversion-induced anxieties and neurotic tendencies. However, I have not seen the person that she was before the day my father left ever since, only a shell of her former self with a harmful state of mind and a pessimistic outlook on life.

The first year of separation was the worst, my brother and sister kept virtually no contact with my father, partially because they were hurt by his sudden departure without even a discussion or a goodbye, partially because he never contacted them afterwards (both parties expected to be contacted by each other, and still do), and because he rejected and ignored all pleas from my mother who desperately desired to at least attempt to sort things out. I found myself standing in the middle of this whole situation, I was the youngest, and I also had a job at the same corporation as my father, so we sort of kept in contact. I ended up being the messenger, essentially the mediator between my mother and father, eventually it became apparent that things would not be worked out, after this my mother became very resentful and did not want me to keep in contact with him. This resulted in me being split down the middle as I empathised with both of my parents and could see things on both sides, I did not want to cut my father out, I felt like I needed him, I needed some sort of guidance, but I did not want to hurt my mother either, this resulted in me keeping my relationship with my father a secret from the rest of my family.

My mother never really moved on, due to this I spent a great deal of time feeling extremely guilty whenever my mother spoke of my father and questioned me about him, she always had a suspicion that I was keeping in contact with him, and sometimes I admitted to having infrequent interactions when we ran into each other at work, mostly because I couldn’t stand having to blatantly lie to my loved ones. This never ended on a positive note however as my mother still clung to a small dwindling hope that maybe one day things would go back to the way they were, therefore the topic of my father ultimately lead to anger, tears, resentment, and always more guilt. I suppose I have to note, my mother isn’t a bad person, I don’t think she deserved to be abandoned in the way that my father left her, but as previously stated, I would have to drone on for thousands more words to fully explain the details pertaining my parents divorce, and unfortunately there are no special supernatural components to it, nor any fascinating, exciting twists.

Let’s now fast forward to the present, my brother and I still live with my mother who although still displayed an aura of emptiness and apathy, seemed to have somewhat adapted to life without a partner as best as she could. She spent most nights binge-watching Netflix, although she appeared engaged in whatever show she happened to be watching whenever I got home from work, every now and then I would sit down with her and it would become apparent that deep down she remained in a state of sorrow and melancholy, dissatisfied with every day life. Recently I happened to be dealing with some of my own personal dilemmas, the repetitive nature of my customer service job was beginning to take its toll on me, some new managers at work were starting to make me hate getting up for work in the morning, and my cryptocurrency investments were starting to rapidly diminish my goal of attaining financial freedom.
However, the most distressing feelings among all of this did not come from work or financial loss, they came from my father, who in the last year found a new partner, and they were about to get married. The new woman in my father’s life amplified the magnitude of guilt surrounding our secret relationship to an all-time high, what made it even worse was that no matter how much I tried, I could not find a single flaw in this new woman’s character. She had essentially lived a lonely single life up until she met my father, she had an extremely gentle and thoughtful personality which was very reminiscent of my own mother. I felt obligated to attend the wedding and I knew my father would be deeply disappointed if I didn’t, therefore I felt like I had no choice but to attend. I was happy for both of them but at the same time I was terrified at the thought of my mother finding out about this new partner, let alone the notion of them getting married and me being in attendance, the emotional impact would be beyond devastating for her and this possibility left me in a state of dread for weeks beforehand.

Whenever I get overly stressed, I try to engage in activity that distracts me from being overwhelmed by the neurotic thoughts induced by negative surroundings. One of these activities includes forming a playlist of relaxing music before getting into my car and driving aimlessly into the night. Cruising around with no clear route or destination while letting myself fall deep in thought or allowing my imagination to take over is one of the few of my therapeutic pleasures in life, it also ironically served as the catalyst for the subsequent catastrophe that was to occur. It felt like almost every fibre in my body was rejecting my decision to attend except for a small part of me which did not want to disappoint my father who detested the notion of hiding our relationship but also cherished the fact that at least one of his three children still stood with him, even if it was in secrecy. This brings us to a little over a week ago, I was returning from a drive a couple days before the wedding when the anxiety continued to build as I pondered over every single potential way in which something might go wrong, and my mother would find out about the wedding. I turned a corner at the end of my street and began to circle around the same roundabout I’ve driven through every single day for years when somehow, by some incomprehensible lapse in control, I made a misjudgment which caused me to collide with the curb, busting my front left rim and leaving me with a flat tyre.

I replayed the incident in my head hundreds of times while trying to figure out how I could have possibly made such a stupid mistake, I hadn’t ever done anything like it before, eventually I broke it down to just being too distracted by my own thoughts however it didn’t and still doesn’t make any sense. The next day, the day before the dreaded wedding, I was getting ready to go get my car fixed up when my mother proposed that she come with me in her own car in the event that there was a long wait and I would have to leave my car overnight, I agreed. It turned out to be a relatively speedy process and after about half an hour of waiting, my car was good to go, me and my mother then got into our respective cars and began to head home, that’s when the real catastrophe occurred. As I drove home, my mother following me, I eventually got to the same roundabout where my accident occurred, I carefully drove through it with no issues, still perplexed about how I could have possibly hit the curb the day before. It was only a few moments later when I realized my mother’s car was no longer behind me, I thought it was strange but assumed that she must have decided to stop at the shop around the corner to pick up some groceries or something, so I continued to head home.

I remember sitting in my room juggling between what excuses I would use to justify leaving home in a suit the next day for the wedding, I then continued through my neurotic cycles as usual, checking the prices of my cryptocurrency investments, scrolling through my Facebook news feed and YouTube subscriptions when I noticed that it had been over an hour since I had arrived home, yet my mother had not. I wasn’t worried, but I decided to send her a text just to make sure everything was okay as I knew she would appreciate the gesture. Another half hour passed but I received no response, at this point I was slightly concerned as I found it strange and out of character for my mother to just disappear, so I called her, she didn’t answer. I called her a second time, a third, and a fourth, still nothing. Over two hours had passed as I paced up and down my hallway, I thought maybe she was visiting my sister and wasn’t paying attention to her phone, so I decided to give my sister a call instead, however the moment I unlocked my phone I was alerted by the sound of my mum’s car as it aggressively accelerated into the driveway before coming to an abrupt halt. I hurried outside, confused but slightly relieved at the same time, my confusion and relief quickly transitioned into horror as my mother stepped out of the car clutching her head with one hand as tears were streaming down her face.
I froze for a moment, I always had a bad habit of jumping to the worst of conclusions, a product of the neurotic way in which my brain is wired, this time I knew I was right though, somehow, she had found out. I stood there in shock nonetheless, her face displayed a gut-wrenching look of agony as I asked what had happened, she replied “I saw him, he’s got another woman… did you know?”. My heart continued to sink lower and lower but I couldn’t find it within myself to admit that I knew about it, let alone that they were getting married tomorrow and that I was planning to attend.

I pled ignorance to the whole situation and hugged her tightly, I hated lying but I knew telling the truth would only hurt her even more, and she was already in a very bad state. I walked her inside and attempted to calm her down and find out exactly what happened but the tears never stopped, it was worse than the day he left. I can’t even bring myself to recall her words, let’s just say there are no words to accurately describe the heartbreak she was expressing, nor the weight of the guilt which consumed me, that fragment of a hope that she had been clinging on to for the last four years had just been ripped apart. It then became apparent to me that she was still constantly clutching her head, the emotional hurricane I was in left me oblivious to the physical pain she was also experiencing. She told me she drove too fast and hit her head, alarming physical signs then rapidly began to arise, my mother was so dizzy she could barely stand, she was hyperventilating, and then she threw up. I immediately called an ambulance and desperately called my sister, telling her what happened and pleading her to come over quickly.

The following hours were full of panic and despair, my mother ended up in hospital with a concussion, me, my brother and my sister stayed with her all night. This ultimately led to me being rendered unable to attend my father’s wedding, even if I could have did it without my mother ever finding out, it was an emotional torment which I no longer felt capable of handling. After she began to stabilise, we sat at her bedside for countless hours piecing together what had occurred, it turned out that while driving, my mother recognized my father’s car on the road, she decided to follow him all the way back to his house and confront him with positive intentions, that’s when her biggest fear and suspicion was realized. Needless to say, the conversation did not go well, my mother’s heartache initially materialized as blind rage, which led to her accident. The one part of the whole encounter which baffled me and continues to eat away at me until this very moment as I type these words, is that the moment in which my mother recognized my father on the road occurred while turning at that same roundabout where I had foolishly hit the curb the day before.

You may be reading this thinking that this is ridiculous and that I’m stupid, that it was just a coincidence, and that there is nothing even remotely supernatural about this emotionally driven train wreck of a recount of events. You might be right, but you also might not be, I was on the road when my accident occurred in an effort to figure out the right decision to make, that decision was set in stone as my mother passed down the same road, albeit also led to a chain of events which brought one of my ultimate nightmares into reality. I am not religious and am general a skeptic, however my experience in the last week, the synchronicity that occurred has changed my perception of the universe and how it operates, it is too early to tell whether what happened was for the greater good or not, I suppose only time will tell...

If you happened to enjoy this i would wholeheartedly appreciate any feed back, i realize some parts are a abit choppy and all over the place but i found some aspects of the story difficult to recall and express as i am still dealing with the aftermath. Hope to see you again soon.
MD