This happened three years ago, but the memory of it still haunts me every day, fresh and raw.  I haven't spoken about this to anyone, other than to the doctors that treated me. I guess I've avoided reliving it. I attempted to push the memory to the back of my mind, pretending it never happened, or that it happened to someone else. I failed, of course. Even something as ordinary as the smell of cilantro or a slight itch across my scalp brings me right back there. 

I know retelling my experience to you is going to be hard. I'm shaking already. But maybe after I've finished, after all the words are out, maybe then I'll finally feel clean.  

Fair warning before we begin though. If you're the squeamish type, I'd back out now. This one may be hard to forget, and I don't mean that in a good way. 

Three years ago I was just going through a bad break up with my ex-girlfriend, Kim.  Other than the six years of our lives, we also shared an apartment together. Since we weren't allowed to back out of the lease four months early, and neither of us wanted to be in the same apartment for that length of time, we both agreed that she would take it along with the responsibility of paying the rent.  But this also meant I'd be homeless. 

 

My parents told me to come home during that time but I really didn't want to try and put on a brave face for them when all I wanted to do was feel sorry for myself.  At least for a few weeks.  Other than my parents, I had few options when it came to temporary housing.  The problem was that most of my friends were also friends with Kim, and I wanted to find a place to stay that was far outside of that bubble. Not forever, but I needed to be someplace where my failed relationship wasn't the constant topic of conversation.  I was thinking about biting the bullet and just getting a hotel but when a friend offered to let me stay in his cabin free of charge, I jumped at the chance.  A cabin far from everyone and everything was just what my depressed mind thought it needed. 

I moved in immediately.  It was far bigger and homier than I'd imagined, and the best part was that I didn't have to fake any smiles or worry about awkward conversations about Kim. I was free to cry or yell or spend the day in my pajamas if I wanted, and for the first 3 weeks that's exactly what I did. 

I wasn't taking care of myself at all really, and was hardly even eating. I'm ashamed to admit this but my hygiene was severely overlooked as well. 

It took a lot of mental energy to even brush my teeth most nights, so things like bathing and brushing my hair sort of fell by the wayside. 

I spent most of my time in bed, mindlessly scrolling through my phone, trying not to end up on Kim's social media pages, but of course that didn't always work out. 

After a month of moping around I decided to take my mother's advice and get my ass out of the cabin and get some fresh air. 

I've never been much of a woodsy guy, but I enjoyed walking through nature. The massive trees stretching high up into the sky all around me made me feel very small and I began to feel like my problems weren't as life-ending as they felt.  I made a promise that I'd stop feeling so sorry for myself, and decided to start by washing my damn hair when I got back to the cabin. 

It was nearing dusk and I had about a mile's walk back and I was walking quickly to avoid getting caught out in the dark. One second I was looking up at the darkening sky and the next I was falling. 

It wasn't a long fall, but it was long enough that when I hit the bottom my world went dark. 

I don't know how long I was out, but when I opened my eyes I could hear crickets, and just make out a sliver of moonlight cutting through the pitch black. 

Everything hurt, and I could hardly move. My arms were pinned at my sides, and my legs were bent in a sort of U position. It took me a minute to realize that not only was I stuck, but I was stuck nearly upside down. I wriggled and pulled and tried to move as much as I could, but no matter how hard I tried, I could only move my shoulders a few centimeters in either direction.  Everything else felt completely wedged. Panic, like I've never experienced before, set in, flooding every pore with it. 

Blood had rushed to my head long before I'd even woke up, and the pressure was constant.

I tried screaming for help but I knew that was useless.  I was the only one around for miles and my screaming was only causing the pressure in my head to get worse. 

I took some deep breaths to try and calm myself and after my vision adjusted to the darkness somewhat, I saw that I'd fallen a good 10-15 feet in the ground. 

Dirt pressed in from all sides, and every slight movement caused a spray of it to rain down onto my back and in my hair. 

I did my best not to panic but it wasn't easy.  My head ached, and I struggled for every breath.  There was a sharp stinging pain in my right shoulder, and I was pretty sure my ankle was broken. 

My mouth was dry and tasted of blood and dirt, and I was desperate for a drink of water.  Hours stretched into one full day, and one turned into two.  I was lucky enough to get some light rain on the second night, and managed to drink the water that rained down my face. Ants and other insects crawled along my hands and face, and more than once a few strolled right in my mouth. 

By the third afternoon I began to think I wouldn't make it out alive. I started to wonder if anyone would ever find my body, or if I'd forever be trapped in that God forsaken hole. 

On the fourth morning, just before the sun came up, I felt it: a light tickle right above my left ear.  I wasn't sure what it was but I had a feeling it wasn't fallen dirt. 

There wasn't much I could do without being able to move, and I didn't have the energy to waste trying. So I just slept most of the fourth day away, and when I woke up I immediately knew something was different. My head felt heavier for some reason, to the point that lifting it took effort.  I thought that all the blood rushing to my head was the reason for this, and tried to angle my head as far back as I could, hoping to relieve some pressure. 

I was able to lean my head up against the dirt wall, and after a few minutes I could feel the pressure starting to ease, giving me just a little relief. 

With that sliver of relief however, came another feeling.  There was a numbness on my head that seemed to cover the entire skull. I tested this by rubbing my head against the wall, rolling it around and around but I felt next to nothing.   I had no clue what that meant medically. Was I having some kind of stroke? 

I won't deny that this is the point where I totally panicked. I starting frantically thrashing my neck from side to side, desperately trying to feel something

It was right around then that I smelled it. Almost like cilantro, if you'd cooked and burned a lot of it.  The smell just suddenly appeared, and began to build with intensity.  It was so strong that I began gagging, and with nothing in my stomach, I could only dry heave over and over. 

I don't know if it was the movement from my wretching or from the previous rain softening the walls, but I felt the tightness around my chest lessen, and I was finally able to suck in a full breath.  The space around my arms was loosening as well, and with newfound energy, I quickly began rocking my body back and forth, while pulling my arms upwards.  

It felt like it took hours, but eventually I felt the walls around me start to give, and I was able to get my arms out in front of me. I scrambled upwards, clawing and digging at the dirt.  When my face burst through the opening in the ground, I could have cried. 

The cool air on my skin felt like heaven, and air in my lungs felt even better.  

I resisted the urge to stop and rest, and continued to wriggle and pull my way through the earth.   When I was free I collapsed on the ground, panting and sobbing. 

I laid a few feet away from the hole that I'd climbed out of, the place that almost became my tomb.  My phone was gone, likely fallen out of my pocket during my time suspended.  My ankle was swollen and bruised, and likely very broken. 

I tried to stand but the pain nearly brought me to my knees. The only thing I could do was crawl. So that's what I did.  I crawled and crawled, until I reached the cabin. I drank some water and ate some crackers the moment I crawled through the door.  I figured I'd better wrap my ankle, and clean up my cuts, before heading to a hospital.  

I crawled into the bathroom and pulled myself up onto the edge of the bathtub, and got the first aid kit out of the cabinet.   I was cleaning the skin around my ankle when I happened to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the faucet. 

I stared at the strange reflection, trying to understand what I was seeing.  

The faucet wasn't very clear, but I could see something wasn't right. 

I pulled myself up, wincing in pain as I balanced my weight on my good leg, and looked into the mirror. 

It's difficult to accurately describe what it was I saw right then. 

It took me a long time to even process it myself.  

My face, while scratched and pale, and more than a little filthy, looked relatively normal. But my head was anything but. 

It looked like something out of an 80s sci-fi movie, like some kind of dingy gray shell plastered to my skull. 

Bits of my hair protruded through it in some places, but as I turned my head to get a proper look, I could see that this thing was completely covering my head from the top of my neck, to my forehead. 

It looked like a helmet.  

I could only stare at my reflection in horror, trying and failing to find a rational explanation for what this could be. 

When I leaned in closer to the mirror, I could see markings, like thin black lines covering the entire surface. I didn't want to touch it, but I knew I had to do something.  I didn't want to drive 2 hours to the hospital wearing this thing. 

I wasn't sure if dirt had somehow formed this helmet- like shape around my head, or what...

With trembling fingers, I slowly and carefully poked the area just over my right eye, and immediately wished I hadn't. 

The place my finger touched shifted slightly, with a thin piece rising for a brief moment before settling back into its position again. 

I felt dizzy at the sight, but I gently grabbed the edge of the "helmet" and pulled. 

What I saw then has haunted me ever since. 

A wing, thin and dry, fluttered in my fingers, and as I pulled, the helmet began to lift and I knew it was no helmet at all. 

Bugs. Hundreds of them, legs entangled with one another, desperately clinging together as I pulled them free of my head. 

There must have been a dozen layers, bugs stacked on top of bugs. Most came off easily, in large clumps, still clinging to the bug beside it.  I was in complete shock, dropping the bugs straight into the toilet. 

I stood, painstakingly pulling up layer after layer of these bugs that nested all over the surface of my skull. 

Once a small portion of my head was visible, most of the remaining bugs began to move, crawling around in my hair, and down my neck, trying to fill in the space I'd cleared. 

Some started flying, filling my bathroom with a horribly loud buzzing.  The smell was unlike anything I'd ever smelled, like burning cilantro, permeating my hair and hands. 

It was a long process, with the bugs that flew off my head attempting to go back in my hair and rejoin their friends. I eventually got them all out though, filling my toilet to the brim with wiggling legs and wings. Some climbed on top of others, using them as a floatation device, while dozens more were crawling out of the toilet.  I knocked them back in and flushed them away. They nearly clogged the toilet but eventually went down with some plunging. I was in shock through it all. I was able to  hobble to my car and drove straight to the hospital, all the while feeling tiny phantom legs crawling through my hair. 

I had a broken ankle and lots of cuts and scrapes, as well as being severely dehydrated.  As far as the bugs, it took me a long time to process it.  The mere thought sent me reeling for a long time. I still have nightmares.  

I did eventually find out what kind of bug they were, though that did little to help me recover from my ordeal. 

Stink bugs. The name is fitting. 

I'm not sure if many of you know what stink bugs look like, but you can easily Google their image if you really want to get the full picture here, however you may regret that decision later…..

Basically they're smallish winged bugs with tiny heads, that leave a strong odor behind when threatened or crushed, hence their name. 

These bugs normally don't bite, and are more of a pest than anything else. 

They are known to enter homes when the temperature drops to find shelter. People have found whole swarms nesting in their jewelry stands or in their books on their shelves. Stink bugs love crawling into tight places, or even in between pages of a calendar. 

And sometimes, they find other places to nest.

This story may not scare you, but for me, it changed me. I know I'll never be the same again, and I will never again eat cilantro.  I sometimes still feel them too, thousands of legs wiggling and clinging to my head.