Thursday, March 13, 2014



Last Thursday night I had an anxiety attack… another symptom of my injury that is hard to explain, insomuch there usually isn’t a precipitating incident or factor that I can tie to its causation.  I had a mind to give Nebraska a call, but instead of following through that notion, it would serve to fire up my competitive nature.  You see, while I don’t believe that I am motivated to do so, I feel like that I have to “prove” that I can do this without her.  It isn’t that I have anything at all against her, but much like the motivations that drive people to go on, to create a condition where I had to overcome an obstacle, it was an “any port in a storm” kind of deal for me.  If that was what was pulling me through, fighting against an imaginary construct, so be it.  After all, how many times have we heard similar “rages against the dying light” motivate others to greatness, some to being on time at their McJob, or simply to make it through their day?

Anywho, so I allowed my mind to imagine a host of beings created with the irradiated clay that my “need” to prove her wrong (whatever THAT means..!), arranged in a haggard platoon marching towards me.  I don’t know what is between me and my foemen, but what I do know is that I MUST get past them and continue on my path.

I have been careful about my “Ny-Quil nights” and talking about them… I don’t have them with any regularity, at least, they occur FAR FEWER than they did when I was with Mookie Dee (almost SEVEN years ago..!).  Cataloging them, which is part of what a journaling is used for, always seemed egotistical.  Well, maybe not egotistical but certainly selfish and attention-seeking.  I think that people enjoy sharing their miseries, with journaling allowing them to possibly infect others, and definitely for some, a play for pity.  Or not.  I don’t know… I have always tried to avoid those people for whom life is nothing but one hopeless travail after another.

I was re-watching this TED Talk by Ash Beckham about closets.  She makes the statement that “hard is just hard”.  It made me think about the chip I have towards the women of my young adulthood, insisting that their saga is somehow more difficult than that of men, or any other marginalized group.  Rather than list points as to why I came to that conclusion, I will instead mention that whenever someone has to tell you that something so obvious is their priority, their raison d’etre, then underneath the surface is a great welling of insecurity.

Insecure people are all too often, fearful people.  Their insecurity cause them to play things safe, acting only to when it is either advantageous for them to do so, and primarily only investing of themselves what they must and yet still, stand in the expectation of a maximum, if not great, return on their investment. This adds up to hesitation when they find themselves called upon and all too-often gives the necessary space for doubt to enter the calculations.
Oh, not to mention that I think they are selfish.  They would not let you bring less than everything to their cause, lest you incur their wrath for time immemorial.

One of the traits that I hope to embody is that of “being comfortable with being uncomfortable”.  It is something that anyone who is striving for a goal must do, adjust to the different environment that comes with being willing to work to get to where they want to be.  This has always been a hallmark of my character, the willingness to put the effort and “sweat equity” toward something.  It seems ludicrous, at least to me, that someone would not understand whether it was to be more engaged in their work, their relationship with their significant other, or with their family, that at first things would be uncomfortable.

My choice of the word “uncomfortable” is a conscious one.  Many times, I believe, people use the word “difficult” when they actually mean uncomfortable.  I find myself in uncomfortable positions quite often, but they are not very difficult to extricate myself from.  After all, “problems that have solutions aren’t problems”, and I do mean that.  All growth, both personal and professional, comes with a measure of discomfort, at least in its beginning stages.  That is true for the human body, as it matures through different growing pains.  So why shouldn’t that be true for any other relationship that a person would have in this dimension of existence?


That is how I feel about dealing with my condition.  It is something that causes discomfort, not by its nature, but in my struggle against it.  There has never been a moment since my diagnosis was confirmed that I did not understand what I was dealing with and the myriad complications that awaited me.  This is why I felt that alone, I would be to deal with the uncertainties that lay ahead of me when I made my way here, from the possibility of a “darkhorse”, to finding myself marooned here alone and friendless, or any host of unfortunate circumstance, was taken into account, including the strained relationship that I now have with Nebraska.


abbiestreehouse said...

I think you're right about "uncomfortable." And I liked the TED talk enough that I posted it over on my spot.

Ken Riches said...

It is all about perspective, you have never been "difficult" to us