What a rush
Holy shit...how much do I love California? A lot. Dear god, how does anyone here need drugs?
I have clients and a business and I am doing what I have been waiting for for 6 years. Me. The crazy guy. And its all coming so fast. Maybe thats the power of knowing what you want...you can discard what you dont. Dead weight is soul killing.
Like surfing, sometimes you paddle into OB when it looks like white soup. You get beaten and dragged and held under. But you paddle and paddle and paddle and duck and gulp, and rest and fight one. Then, maybe in 5 minutes, maybe in 30, a hole opens up. And you go go go go go. Then...if you have the juice to make it, green water. 1998 I fell to pieces. There was little to do but break. Still, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. When I dropped from 180 to 140. When I could not climb stairs without a breather. When I bled when I ate from places that blood should not be coming. When I heard things. When the sidewalk wiggled. When darkness came. When I could not read. When my ears rang so that I could not hear. When I could not construct sentences that people could understand. When my hands shook to badly to use a keyboard. When I just wanted so badly to quit. I guess if you keep fighting you catch your break. I did.
There are things I would have done differently, but I am proud. I am tough, and a fighter, and persistent like a snake with its fangs in the leg of life. You are going to have to cut off the head to remove it.
Acceptance, not resignation. I accept the illness and that it is me. But I fight the implications that it means that I am anything less that perfect like everyone else.
I have clients and a business and I am doing what I have been waiting for for 6 years. Me. The crazy guy. And its all coming so fast. Maybe thats the power of knowing what you want...you can discard what you dont. Dead weight is soul killing.
Like surfing, sometimes you paddle into OB when it looks like white soup. You get beaten and dragged and held under. But you paddle and paddle and paddle and duck and gulp, and rest and fight one. Then, maybe in 5 minutes, maybe in 30, a hole opens up. And you go go go go go. Then...if you have the juice to make it, green water. 1998 I fell to pieces. There was little to do but break. Still, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. When I dropped from 180 to 140. When I could not climb stairs without a breather. When I bled when I ate from places that blood should not be coming. When I heard things. When the sidewalk wiggled. When darkness came. When I could not read. When my ears rang so that I could not hear. When I could not construct sentences that people could understand. When my hands shook to badly to use a keyboard. When I just wanted so badly to quit. I guess if you keep fighting you catch your break. I did.
There are things I would have done differently, but I am proud. I am tough, and a fighter, and persistent like a snake with its fangs in the leg of life. You are going to have to cut off the head to remove it.
Acceptance, not resignation. I accept the illness and that it is me. But I fight the implications that it means that I am anything less that perfect like everyone else.
posted by warnerk | 11:21 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home