Eight days ago I up and decided to go for a walk.
Why is this important? Because I haven’t done it in months. A lot of months. Terribly pathetic, but I don’t hide from the truth. Another truth is that I’ve avoided walking because I’ve allowed fear to paralyze me. Not just with exercise. In Life.
I’ve touched on this briefly in this semi-resurgence of writing, and will more. This immobility has fostered what I refer to in therapy as a “Groundhog Day Effect”. I've no idea if this is a real thing, or if it’s just a name I’ve chosen to describe something that someone else has already dissected in a different way. Bottom line is that I've started to see recurring themes, behaviors, patterns, tendencies...all of which lead to a seriously repetitive cycle of living that I've been trying to break free of.
Fear sucks. I hate its guts. Assuming fear has guts. I hope it does. I hate wasting my hate on nuthin. It’s...wasteful.
With the walking, you’ll love this crazy-crazy, I was afraid of the pain I would start to feel when I started going, whether it would linger on with the pain I have every day. Crazy-crazy, yes?
Why not just DO IT and see what happens? See that’s what? I’m guessing this is how all of you normal people think. Not people like me. I circle the drain, over analyze, think way too much about shit. And I despise every minute of it.
See, I have this deep, passionate longing for all of that noise to melt away so I could just BE.
For as long as I can remember it’s all I’ve ever wanted. To BE. For as long as I’ve been writing or journaling, it’s a recurring theme in every chunk of time I've re-read. This book I found while I was going through personal mementos...all old journal pages gathered together. So many other pages in the computer, others still lost to time, unsalvageable from wrecked hard drives and corrupted floppies.
I doubt there are very many people reading this who understand what it feels like to never be able to turn off your brain. To be plagued by second guessing, regret, too much thought.
I am THAT guy. THAT guy that you cringe for. THAT guy who worries about what to say to someone at a party. I’m THAT guy who has made notes to myself before certain functions and secretly kept them in my pocket to help me remember things I should talk about. I’m THAT guy who has a brilliant comeback line to a verbal jab that was just sent my way, but I can’t get it out like I want so I say something stupid and spend the next two days thinking about WHAT I WISHED I COULD HAVE SAID.
Every single day, as I navigate any minefield of social interaction, and it’s been like this every day that I can remember, I’ve felt separated from everything and everyone because of this...whatever you call it.
There have been exceptions.
One exception is whenever I’ve successfully consumed THC in the right dose, without overdoing it. During these periods my mind finds the right peace and affords me the ability to actually CTFO. A fantastic side effect is that it also reduces the amount of physical pain I feel every day. Over the late summer/early fall I was able to get some MMJ and use it as real medicine for a period of weeks.
This extended amount of time was what helped lead me to right here, right now. Isn’t that interesting? While I had it, I was more productive, more engaging, more inspired, more social...and on and on and on. I was also able to quit Oxycodone, for good. I’d been taking that evil shit FOR YEARS for my chronic pain. Now? I don’t.
Only problem is that Ohio is not a legalized MJ state, I don’t have the ability to get what I got regularly, and it’s been a couple of months now. The pain isn’t managed, my mind is a war zone and it’s the same fight inside my head it’s always been.
At least I made progress, and I haven’t lost any ground. Yet. For this? GRATITUDE.
The other exception has been during periods of my life where I’ve been surrounded by the right people. These specific types of personalities have a way of quieting my internal storm to a degree where I’ve experienced some sensation of belonging, even contentment. It’s rare, but there. These fine folks who have reached in and scooped out the very best parts of me? Well, I’ve generally figured out a way to shit all over it somehow.
As for my present daily life, I spend most of my time as a caregiver or alone. I have no reality outside of those two scenarios. While there are people who can and do cut through the noise, it’s different. That’s harder to explain, and would require a longer, different writing.
Suffice it to say that the people who have the best success are those that have a synergy that merges with my neurotic Virgoness. Yeah, I kindasorta believe in that crap, though I do not lay the blame solely at the foot of The Virgin. OK I do think it holds a LOT of insight. But then again? Crazy-crazy, remember? There are some eye-opening things about Astrology that freak me right the Hell Out though. About myself, people in my life...something has to be there. I dunno...maybe something about the way gravitational or magnetic fields affect shit when people are conceived then born.
But what do I know?
All I know with certainty is that I took a walk on the 11th. I was in agony on my ride home from Bennett’s school and I went inside and something inside my head cut through the static and said GO. Don't think. GO.
And I did. The fear, the hesitation, wasn’t there.
As I was walking it hurt, more than I thought it was going to. Not just in my SI joint and piriformis muscle, but I noticed a terrible tightness and pain in my neck. As I walked further and faster I started to realize I could “hear” my bones. Crunching, crunching. And it was difficult to move my head to the left or to the right.
I looked down at my hands. They were tightly clenched into fists.
I was doing this to myself. I was rigidly clenching everything. I couldn’t relax anything. My arms weren’t moving well at all. It was so...crazy-crazy? And it felt awful. Every step was like walking through a glass door.
I had to really focus on loosening my upper body, my arms, my chest, my head...breathe, stay loose. I would start to feel better as I took more steps. I couldn’t maintain it. Just as I would begin to think “I got this motherfuckers!!!” I would realize that everything was tight again. The effort required was something I’ve never experienced. I started to think about how this was a mirror pointed at my life, a reflection of how I struggle to find peace and then it slips away.
Before I knew it I started to cry. I couldn’t believe it.
Not a balls out weep job, but tears were coming out of my eyes. It was a walk around my neighborhood! Can I actually be THIS fucked up?
That’s how the rest of the walk went, a fight between trying to uncork my body and the tendency to trip myself up with all of the stress I’m carrying around. Soon I returned to the house. The trip was around a mile and a half.
Physically I felt fine. Mentally? Wiped.
I had a lot to process, and process I did. But walk I did too. A few more times during the week. Also started moving a few things around in the house, trying to get some things arranged for some projects I have been putting off. All week I felt different. Still do. Can't quite explain what it is. Or even why. I'm still depressed. But I'm not. It is the crazy-craziest thing.
So...what have we learned today, kids?
- When I look at my body of work over the span of my life there is one thing I know to be true. I’m always trying. Successful or not, effort is very important to me. And I’ve given it. Those times when I was the least content were those times when I gave the least effort.
- I've got to learn some things about how to de-stress. The tensions that I am feeling are calling out to me to fix them. The tightness in the muscles, the spine, all over. I intend to do so.
- It is OK to be depressed and also be positive at the same time. This makes NO sense to most people who do not live with depression every day. I'm not 100% I understand it fully yet. But I've just decided FUCK IT…depression, anxiety, PTSD, they are a part of me, and always will be. But they do not have to make me SAD. One day I will explain that to you…if I can figure it out first.
- If I think I have shit figured out, I don't. That isn't how life works. Life is constantly evolving and changing and moving. And so should I.
- This tendency to over-analyze, to struggle with things internally. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. If self-evaluation and analysis are who I am...accept it. It’s been 50 years and it’s not going to change now. Use it more positively and I’ll have a better outlook overall. I believe that’s what I’m doing now.
- To be willing to expose my failures, my weaknesses, to talk about them…that is a strength of character that it is time I began giving myself more credit for. Besides, all that shit up top? Who does that? Who lays it all out and tries to work out their crap like an open book? Hmm...book...
It is now Tuesday, the 19th. I started writing this a week ago.
Since then, so many things have hurtled through my brain. Just like they always do. The noise, the chaos, it's all still there, banging away at everything that I do. I haven't let it stop me from moving forward.
The stress has got to be removed. Working on that. An old friend from Palisades named Chad has a wife named Sonya who is Yoda about Yoga…she wrote something to me a couple of weeks ago that rang with a Truth that could not be ignored. So I ignored it. Mainly because I wasn't ready to hear. She said "I can put money on that your piriformis isn’t the only place that you hold on to extreme tightness (every day of your life), it’s just the one that’s screaming the loudest".
Thankfully the message, from her and the one from my ass-cheek, is louder and clearer now. I'm looking into meditation and Yoga, though like most things I am baffled by the deluge that is the World Wide Web. I may need to take some classes in both. Us old folk have a hard time learnin new things! I'm ready now for the meditation. The Yoga? Baby baby baby steps. I need to be real careful. Let's make sure I don't injure myself here. I make sloths look fast at the present time.
On the 9th I had started an Instagram page to focus on my artwork. My goal was to do it that weekend. It was done and it's provided me with some creative focus. Good for my soul, my mind. Set a goal to learn more about the ins and outs of Social Media, crap like that. Mini goals I call them. I set em, I knock em down. Another goal was to draw something new the week after I launched that page. I did it, DESPITE the numbness and pain in my fingers. That was HUGE. On the 12th I kept an appointment for an MRI to get answers about the physical aspects of my brain and the headaches I'd been having and was able to scratch that off my list.
And of course, all week long, I got out and moved as often as I could.
Last night, I even found new resolve to integrate Bennett into one of the walks. He loved it. We even went shopping, I wanted to look for an exercise mat. Didn't find one at the store we went to, but at least we got out. We used to go on walks a lot and not very long ago, until I allowed myself to be overwhelmed by managing aspects of his care. I'm not overwhelmed by those things right now. We are in a different place together. I've been working very hard with him. But he has been working hard too. A lot.
Evolving, changing…moving. Just like Life.