"Adventure is worthwhile in itself." -Amelia Earhart

When I first began blogging, I was in complete disarray.  I was in a loveless relationship with a woman who was about to become downsized without many options, who also was sleeping around, and subsequent to her sleeping around she offered little in the way of hope of repairing our relationship.  Adding to these troubles was the onset of my disability, which did not, I am sure, make my then-partner feel any kind of endearing emotions toward me.  One of the first things that I did after I made the decision to retake the life that I could still live, was reach out to Nebraska.

My thinking went as follows:  What I am dealing with was not unexpected.  I spent the majority of my life boxing, and at the wind-down of my career, I was taking more than I was giving.  Still, I figured that I had quit while I was ahead and that I would still be relatively fine.  I had saved some of my pennies, and others were put in very modest investments.  Then, my Mother passed, a financial crisis evaporated my safety net, and then my darling brother passed.  My dear brother’s death shook me from the torpor I was in, invigorating me to take control of the insignificance that is my life.

The architect of my life has never been conventional.  I say this not because I am a person who takes pride in being different, but because of the comments of others when I talk about the things that spin constantly in my thoughts, and those thoughts are (or should I say “were”... it has been a long time since I have suffered a conversation with a Philistine) often run in contrast to those who are content with living their lives inside of borders.  So after a hiatus, I emailed my first real “e-friend” and told her that I was going to start a new chapter in my life, and that I was going to move to Omaha.  I also told her that I had begun blogging as a way of dealing with the increased stress and pressures of my life, and it was her who encouraged me to keep on blogging when AOL discontinued its blogging site.  So along with several of my then-new found blogging friends, I migrated to this spot and have been chronicling the “days of my nights, which are the nights of my days” here.

For those who are not aware of what it is I am “dealing with” (in case there are those who are reading this and are wondering), because I spent at least 25 of my first 47 years competing as an amateur and professional boxer, as a result of that participation I have been diagnosed with Chronic Traumatic Brain Injury (CTBE, or TBI).  The description that follows is as comprehensive as it is going to get - Clinical symptoms of CTE are only beginning to be understood. They are thought to include changes in mood (i.e. depression, suicidality, apathy, anxiety), cognition (i.e. memory loss, executive dysfunction), behavior (short fuse, aggression), and in some cases motor disturbance (i.e. difficulty with balance and gait). While the pathology of CTE has been broken up into stages, the clinical symptoms and clinical progression of CTE are not yet fully understood.  I don’t make a big fuss of what I put up with or “give” my condition any more credit than it already has already.  But because the big ones, the mood issues and memory loss, along with executive function disruption, show themselves in areas that universal to nearly everyone, what good would PMS’ing about it do?  So I don’t complain too much about the hand that I hold… I still have some pretty good cards and the game isn’t over.

Being born in this particular space/time stream has meant (at least to me)  that I do not have reason to really complain about any break that I did not get, or any form of lack in my life.  If anything, I feel that if I owe the world anything, I owe it my best face forward and all the happiness that it has filled me with.  This sentiment is similar in ethos to one of Vince Lombardi’s “... all the time things…” quote of character that I hold myself to.  It has been something that I believed all my life, certainly since my Mother tried to get me to eat liver by telling me about all the starvation and general deprivation as a child.  I mention that to say that taking ownership of all the contents of my life and the agency that entails has been with me for so much of my life, that I feel that I have always been appreciative of being able to live this life.  That is why my depression HAS to be symptomatic of my diagnosis.  Of all the moments for such darkness to creep into my soul, that it comes to me now, without cause, and it seems trite… depression at Christmas.  I mean, how unorignial can THAT be?.

I don’t know when this current cloud began to descend upon me.  It would be easy to say that it began early this month, but that is taking the easy way out.  I had a good Thanksgiving, eating ice cream and cookies, with getting the opportunity to watch the Lions win their annual Thanksgiving Day football game in peace, beating the Chicago Bears.  I spent a day with my co-worker setting up holiday decorations (getting a little extra money and companionship… a “double, double”!), hung about with Nebraska, and I had a real date. But all the while, I could feel a darkness steadily creeping with me as I made my way around.

Though things have improved between us, Nebraska and I are not there yet.  So I have not thought to call her for anything. Part of my reasoning for this harks back to the early days of my journal and my ramblings about what I expect of myself, and from, relationships.  I am simply not sure that I can put myself in a position where the uncertainty can possibly increase to heretofore unseen levels, when presently, I am confident that I will manage to hold my own.

Prior to this episode, I had personified my depression as “the little black dog”, a scrawny, terrier-mix, a stray, one that had none of the breed’s typical feistiness and verve.  The little dog used to make its way over to wherever I was and sit silently about two steps away, looking up at me as it laid its head over its front paws, snout jutting over long and dark claws.  Right now, I feel as though I was walking down the street and the late fall overcast metamorphosed into a bruise-tinged pallor of smoke and purple.  Then, as I continued on my way, the cloud descended, and begin to blot and shadow things around me.  That is where I am now.  

Of course, I have told myself that I “gotta get back into this thing”.  Having already bombed one test and missed two day, I have certainly left myself little margin for error.  I don’t want to have to drop any class and do the same thing again.  My ambition is to do more than drag my way through junior college.  So, in the New Year, I will be battling my way back through school, being determined and disciplined, and willing to let the chips fall where they may.

A SERIES OF ENTRIES ON CONFIRMATION BIAS, SELF-FULFILLING DELUSIONS, AND THE SIN OF CIRCULAR THINKING

TACTICAL

I have returned to the mid- to high 90’s of my personal capacity after being afflicted by a month long (at least) battle with a condition.  It was not until my supervisor saw how impaired I was and took action that I received medical attention.  Also there was an issue regarding my transcripts during the interim between this and my previous entry that was troubling for me as well.

An area from which I have taken some flack for throughout my journaling (and IRL as well) some of the things that I have to say about women and women in relationships.  I can seem a little misogynistic, chauvinistic and clearly prejudiced to be against women.  For instance, the impression that a reader may have or my experiences with my starter Wife and with Mookie Dee, it would not be surprising that they would think that I have an axe to grind toward women.  But I can explain why my rhetoric can slip into the inflammatory... because I am not George Plimpton or Christopher Hitchens, men so  erudite and have such a command of the english language that an everyday American citizen would need a translator to grasp what they have just said.

So my language and coded patois is my own clumsy approximation of my aspiration to brilliance.  Occasionally, because I am NOT brilliant and my logic at its level best is tortured, I fall short when I write about the episodes and observations of the universe at large.  Whenever I say something that steps on someone toes, it is unintentional.  And I do count on the understanding of readers to know when I am making my grand statements, that I am not speaking of “everyone” or pigeon-holing a population.  That disclaimer having been made...

ON CHARACTER AND RELATIONSHIP FAIL TAXONOMY

Being observant of people does not seem to be difficult to do, at least not to me, and yet so many people are such poor judges of character that they repeat the same errors of judgment regarding people throughout their lives.  It is disheartening for me to hear talk of “having picked someone like...”, surrounding the dilution of a loveship, because it is an indication that whatever fail that should have been particular situation has instead become a quality of the speaker character.  It is the clearest sign that they have little understanding of the self, which is why they repeat the patterns of fail.  Language is an indicator of so many things and is why I am cognizant of how I write in my journal.

A trait that I would think that has been established of mine, is that I do believe in enduring difficulties creates a stronger person.  Though I do not feel that I have had face any particularly difficult obstacles in my life, challenges are often relative to the person that has facing to them.  One of the biggest challenges in my life has been the nagging lack of support that I have received from the intimate relations of my life.

Now don’t get me wrong... there have been times where they have really come through for me... my Dad when I needed an evac from ‘the provincial town that I was joggin’ ‘round’... or when the SFC and Nebraska stood vigil when I was the hospital in separate episodes. I don’t want to sound like I don’t value when people have given me assistance.  But again, it has been those who I believe would be among the people I could rely upon, that have let me down.

PEOPLE look out for me.  The anonymous person who purchased Scarlet Rose for me when Doug was stolen from me at work.  My supervisor who took charge, knowing what she knew of me, and took me to the hospital to get looked at.  And this is where things become sticky.

What do YOU know of me?  That is how I demand to be judged on, and when I can confirm that is not what a person is able to do, then I don’t allow them in my life.  There are so many ‘known unknowns’ with life, that to know a person close to me can’t be counted on, is like treason.  And while the punishment for treason is death, not being able to kill someone doesn’t have to be literal.

This is where the whole introvert thing comes into vogue.  Not to be pickin’ (because I could us Princess in this example too!) on Nebraska or anything, but after we were unable to connect as a couple, we have essentially been nothing.  Once, twice maybe a month text messages and one accidental run-in at a Midtown salon does not, to me anywho, a relationship make.  Just as Jim Masters told some sad opponent defending him when he was raining three-pointers, “It’s gonna take another step”, indicating that the defender was not doing enough to defend.  

If you want me in your life, you don’t have to do much but you do have do SOMETHING.  Princess and her oblique communiques are the exact thing that a guy who is jus’ f*ckin’ with a woman does.  So no, I have told you that I won’t use media to maintain a relationship, and that is EXACTLY what I meant!

SUNSET (It’s as if we’d never met)

I never thought that this was going to be a small-time thing.  Now instead of having memories of different places in my mind, those sensations have been replaced by tendrils of an encroaching panic from the recognition that there is no such memory of a particular place I have ridden off to.  Finding the focus to deal with my transcript issue as well as the consequence, all while I am suffering from a painful condition, this has been the most trying month of this era.  I have felt vulnerable, confused, and wondering on a meta-level, about what is the use of going on.

So you say reach out to Nebraska, talk to Princess, see if they will give you a hand...

AND NOW... FOR SOMETHING THAT IS RELATED BUT MAY SEEM NOT TO BE...

A FEW WORDS ON THE TIM TEBOW PHENOMENON

I like Tim Tebow.  Always have, even while he played at the University of Florida.  This does not mean that I like Florida or ever wanted them to win at ANYTHING much less football, but I did like Tim Tebow.

There was always something special about him.  As much as he won in college, his humility was always legitimate.  When Florida lost Ole Miss in 2008 and made his famous post-game declaration, I have to admit that I was moved by his words.  And I recall how the Gators finished that season, as National Champions and a team that looked like they were on a mission.

Despite his college successes, where Tim would go in the NFL draft in 2009 drew a lot of speculation.  Many observers, a lot of whom were in a position that actually mattered and wasn’t stuffed in the basement of their Mother’s house with a high-speed connection to the internet to make their pontifications, thought that he was a risky pick, maybe a 2^nd or even a 3^rd round draft choice at best.  So when he was drafted in the first round by the Denver Broncos, it raised a lot of eyebrows around the NFL, because it meant that the organization was going to make a certain commitment to developing him into a big time player.

The many questions about his skill set are valid and even now I think a casual observer can see why they persist.  Even Tim himself will admit that they are true.  Recently, team president andHall-of-Fame quarterback John Elway said that the Broncos still don’t have the quarterback to lead them to a championship on their roster.

Ouch. But I suspect that does not bother Tim Tebow in the least.  Maybe it motivates him to work harder on his weaknesses, but somehow I don’t think it does, at least not in a tangible sense.  Like he said in his speech in college  where he promised that “you would not see another player play harder therest of the season…”, I think what drives Tim is truly special and what makes a person ‘special’ to other tends to be harder to quantify.  And because of this “specialness” that makes up a big part of Tim’s skill set is an intangible, a lot of cynics discount the effect that he has on the team as a coincidence.

                

Sure, I would love if KT or Lexxie were to marry Tim Tebow, why wouldn’t I?  I know they would not endup being an enabler to a monster as the wife of Bernie Fine became, that is forsure!  In fact, I think it would be more likely that they would be considerably closer to living a life where they come a lot closer to fulfilling their potential as a human being as they may have otherwise!  I really believe that.  I wish I played with and for, yes for, Tim Tebow!

Okay, a little tangential but hey, if you have read this blog for any length of time, I think you’d understand!  Anywho, the truth about Tim Tebow is that his is, quite simply, a leader of men.  Sunday morning there were several stories on pregame shows about what is going on in Denver.  The way that they have been winning football games goes against the grain… in fact, their victories hark back to an era has more in common with war bonds and bobby socks than they do with how current football is played.  But watching his teammates describe what is going on in their locker room and what they feel when they are out on the field playing, I don’t see how anyone could be cynical about what THE PLAYERS believe.

It could be seen in their eyes as well as heard in their voices.  If there was any “Tebow flavored Kool-Aid© being offered in Denver that pretty much everyone on the team had drank from it.  It made me think about how it contrasted with the jaundiced image that many pro athletes are seen, that they are self-centered and arrogant, thinking only of ‘what someone can do to make me look better’ like Terrell Owens.  As much as they think of themselves out there on the field, it was evident that they also play for something much larger than themselves and their personal motivations.

That is what it means to be a leader.  When you can inspire others through your own personal convictions and actions, you get to be called a leader.  When you have others willing to sacrifice because of your personal example, you get to be called a leader.  When you can humble yourself to rank and file, showing yourself willing to do whatever it takes to show that you are a member of the team, you get to be called a leader.

What I think has been taking place in Denver over the past two seasons is that the players on that team saw the heralded Tim Tebow come in and be something more than a caricature.  Sure, his super-Christian status and captaincy on ‘the God Squad’ has something to do with the cynicism around Tim Tebow.  When his deficiencies as a player are factored in, the “haterade” starts flowing.  But when you see the cat who once said “that you will see no player work harder” actually WORK HARDER than anyone that they have prolly ever seen, that has to have an effect on a person.

Now there are some things that have fallen into place that are in Tim’s favor.  One, there are a couple of high character guys that are counted among the leadership in the locker room in Denver.  Champ Bailey on defense and Willis McGahee on offense don’t go for that weak sh*t, so once they got behind Tebow, everyone else on the team really did not have much choice.  And maybe the schedule has been kind to the Broncos, having really only played one team that could exploit their collective flaws, the Detroit Lions.  And in many ways I think that game has done more to prove the impact that Tebow has had on the team.

See, it would have been easy for the Broncos to have rolled up their tents and let their season continue to fritter away, getting earholed as they did against the Lions.  But instead, the next week they went out and beat the Raiders in Oakland.  I think that if their confidence in their quarterback was shaky, then it would have definitely showed up in that game.  Or, in any of their subsequent games, on the road and away from Tebow’s rabid home fans.  

COINCIDENCE OR NO…

Thing about the Broncos resurgence that is hanging around in the room like the proverbial elephant is whether or not any of Tebow’s intangible traits have had anything to do with it.  I don’t know what do other folks, particularly any “experts” may think but I know what I believe.  And even though I don’t think that I would ‘fit’ into the Tebow vision of an afterlife, I do know how a cat like him would fit into my current life. 

…AND WHATEVER I DO WILL BE PURE INVENTION


Answer me this, if suicide is painless, then why is giving up so hard for me to do?



The last few days have been a grind for me and I have been in denial as to why that has been. Whenever I read or am made aware of through media about an exceptional person who is living with TBI, I also note the most glaring difference that I have with them.  That I am alone as I navigate the world and there isn't anything that comes easily to me.
 I am not afraid of being alone but it is my one glaring weakness. There is no one who is going to be around to comfort me when my mood decides to shift and there is no one available who can help me with my errands or to get things that I need done accomplished. As the cloud slowly passes over my mind, my thoughts, I have had to narrow my focus and concentrate more on everything I do. There is nothing I am taking for granted and I make notes as to what I did for the day, as those are the actions that will lead toward shaping my tomorrow.

WAKING UP IS THE HARDEST PART

I spend a good deal of time sitting around listening to spinning tires on the glazed streets in front of my building early in the morning. When the sun breaks, it isn’t long before I hear the maintenance men for both my tower and the one adjacent to it on its south side (which is why I the one I am in is North Tower and the other is called South Tower) clearing the walks and pathways around the properties. Occasionally there are sounds in the hallways and the shuffle (almost never footfalls) of people going to the elevator and off to their desperate day as loudly as they dare. It is not long before I get dressed, having already bathed, to get out and join the fray (The Fray… really? Who actually likes that band?), adding my own variety of frenetic activity to the world.


I checked the Transit Authority’s website for the routes that I would need to look for to reach my destination, one of the ‘Empire of Evil’ retail stores. I don’t know if there are any better places to do my grocery shopping in town but then again, I really haven’t been around town to price the different stores in town yet. Besides, the convenience of grabbing every item I would be looking for in one fell swoop is a pretty good mitigating factor. That I did not recognize any of the landmarks or neighborhoods wasn’t anything new for me. My making sense out of déjà vu is a common thing for me and is expected that adds to the predictability of my unpredictability when I am out of my apartment. To be honest, I really did not want to be out and it had nothing to do with the weather, which was not as unpleasant on Monday as the local weathercasters had been predicting.

So far I have not seen any neighborhoods that harkens back to the sketchy neighborhoods I have lived in or visited in towns like the Atl or the D.C. Metroplex. As far as any of the places back home… what I am trying to say I guess, is that Omaha free of the decay that I have seen elsewhere and makes me think of more ‘provincial towns’ that I have been around in my travels. Still, I don’t underestimate the personality of my latest hometown, because there are enough shootings that take place here to remind me to ‘keep my eye on my luggage’ and not stare at the activity in a particular environment.

Arriving at a hospital that is a transfer point for riders, I disembarked and searched out for the number of the next bus I was supposed to take. Looking at the signage, I had to wonder if I even got on the correct bus to begin with. Sometimes I wonder when the bottom is going to fall out and my mind spirals downward suddenly, and I am being warned with the experiences that I have had to cope with this month. By the time that Nana has forgotten recipes that she learned at MeMaw apron or Granddad stops regaling with stories of days spent fishing on the nearby lake, there were a lot of other less noticeable lapses experienced without detail. Maybe these are mind and they are increasing in frequency.


OUT TO INFINITY WITHOUT AN ADDRESS

I decided to re-board and get on the bus that took me from my apartment to the hospital. Worse case scenario was that I would go home and call it a day. Admit that it is too much for me to be out here by myself in the world and retreat to… where?


For me to cower and pine away for a relief that I believe would never come, a surrender you will never hear from my lips. So whether it is in me or not to live on my own, to even make it though my day, there is only one way for me to find out. Instead of getting off at my apartment building, I rode downtown. If nothing else, I would have added to my library of sensations and image mapping of Omaha. Next time (and there will be one of those) I’ll take a little more money, cause all she wants to do is dance.

Looking at my paper to check my directions for the umpteenth time that day, I asked the driver to point to where I need to catch the next bus. If I am using the phrase ‘next bus’ often, it is because instead of riding on four buses, (two going and two returning) I ended up on SEVEN buses. Two would break down before I would reach the store; fortunately the wait wasn’t too long before a replacement appeared for the one bus and because of a traffic slowdown, an overlap in the schedule brought another to continue the route.


The bus drove past Nebraska’s neighborhood and into the area that she had picked out for me, initially. She was correct in her envisioning me fitting into the neighborhood for the most part and she would only have been a stone’s throw away. BUT, my gym is a couple of miles downhill from where I am not and if I want to hang out, downtown has enough entertainment value to keep me from accumulating too much boredom. It was not long before I found myself whizzing past her high school and it looked exactly like I pictured it in my mind. But the moment was brief before the scenery became completely foreign to me.


Reckless, maybe I am. Especially for me to consider myself out here without a map and chasing ghost that may never have ever lived at all. Manifestations of too many nights watching TV 62 back when it was WGPR and showed R-rated movies from Europe and black movies featuring Louis Jordan and other big name black entertainer’s from the ‘separate but equal’ era of Hollywood, hopped up on chocolate chip cookies and soda (the cookies weren’t from Astoria, but the soda was still Coke!). As much sweets I have consumed in my lifetime, you would be AMAZED to learn that my blood sugar is on the LOW end of the normal range and has been whenever it has been tested. So put that in your pipe and take a toke!

Anywho, for a day that began at 8:30 Monday morning and that would not end until I came into my building at 6:30 that evening I think that I did alright. Forget to pick up some salad stuff and more pressing, blueberries to top my oatmeal with. All in all, I did alright. But IT (which is the complexity of the whole ball of wax) is wearing on me. And the unexplored country that I find myself in, is also quite unforgiving…

It’s been three weeks since I was hit (saying ‘My’ or ‘I was in’ an accident makes it seem like I was possibly a little reckless and somehow had a part as to why I was struck by a car and I absolutely did not do anything of the sort) and I still am not feeling all that hot. For every step forward there seems to be an annoying step backwards. Monday night it was baking some break ‘n bake cookies… I burned them while doing the dishes even with the alarm going off on my watch.


Since I left Mookie Dee, I haven’t felt vulnerable. Not while I was in the Metro at my Dad’s nor in Virginia while I was with the SFC. But there have been times since I been hit that I have felt in over my head.

Nebraska has been as kind and thoughtful as any human being out to be, so my feelings have nothing at all to do with her. In fact, I am surprised that she has been as good to me as she has so far. Called my Dad, keep touching base with the SFC, and Nixxie and KT are a laugh riot (Lexxie and her Mom were incommunicado and Skye is still Skye…), and this is still a decent enough place for me.

There are moments where my spirit really sags. Not being able to wash dishes and not burn cookies with an alarm going off is one of them.

Reading through a ‘Geek’s Journal’, I would not be surprised if he and his friends did not do what I did with cats I went to middle & high school (the core of my junior high lunch table mates and me were all accepted to the same select public high school) with would do. We’d sit around playing our own brand of D&D using heroes and villains from the major comic universes and write our own version of fan fiction-fiction, featuring those heroes. There are moments were a fragment of plaque breaks off and a memory comes floating to the top, bringing a warm smile along with it. Today it was of reading comic books and wondering why Dave Cockrum was replaced by John Byrne on X-Men and how cool I thought the Marvel Two-In-One crossover with Marvel Team-Up with Spider Man, The Thing, along with Thor and the Avengers, fighting against Thanos of Titan was. I loved how that ended… nice and neat with a logical conclusion and enough comic book wiggle room to breath life back into the protagonist (Adam Warlock) and antagonist (Thanos) later on. Anywho…

Some days I look at my Blogger profile and I ask myself, ‘Really now, where did that positive cat you claimed to be, go?’ Before anyone get to worrying about me, I have things to pull me through, one day at a time. Today it was a test of juggling things and I scored a 90 on that… got my MRI taken care of and did a little bit of shopping while I was out, and I did not get hit by a car just before I got home!! I have been holding on to a Target gift card (thank you anonymous donor!!) and finally used it to purchase a small sofa/sleeper for my apartment. Nebraska thought it a bit low to the ground but that is okay. I know what I want (again, wouldn’t be here if I was just guessing at things, now, would I?) and I tend to go for that, first. Pick up anything else I may have missed on the second sortie.

Hope to make my summer happen… which will consist of seeing my Carolina girls and crossing my fingers for school. If school doesn’t happen I will still be golden because I am not going to worry about it.  I am pretty sure I will have a good fall and before you know it, year one will be in the books.  Actually, I don’t worry about a lot of things as I have for real stuff to deal with. Finit.