I would hate to use the word helpless because quite frankly that's a bullshit word, to borrow a bit from the show Jersey Boys. I am not a helpless person. I am a man. I have gone to lots of places and done lots of things, some even good things, some rarely even smart things. I have led a full and, more or less, productive life. Someone once told me in order to be happy, you either have to make a difference or really love what you do (I may have said that before, please forgive). In my previous live, I would like to think I made a difference, so I enjoyed what I did for a living. The gratification was instant and obvious. I was helping good people do their good works. I was a rock. Unflappable. Hah! there, I used the word "unflappable"! It's just a fun word to say, isn't it? Unflappable. Kinda like imperturbable. OK, enough of that.
This week I was flapped. I flapped myself. I had a flappy day. Dammit, OK Ill stop. I went to pick up Joy who had filled her diaper so significantly I thought the neighbors might smell it. Wowie that wonderful little bundle sure can make a stank. When reaching down for her, I threw my back out. I have a long and storied history with back troubles dating back probably over 20 years (I'm feeling a little more flapped just thinking about that), and even surgery a few years ago. My spouse was away on business and it was just me and Joy, just us turkeys, and one turkey was... heh. I won't do it... injured. When you put your back out, usually one or more events occur, you strain the tendons that hold a particular vertebra in alignment so that vertebra is now out of alignment, kinda like pulling one tent stake out and the tent goes wonky, or you just aggravate the soft tissues, and either way the tissues directly involved with the injury start to go into distress, and the surrounding tissues can also go into sympathetic distress, or spasm. So, it's like the tent, which is already hurting is also being pulled in other directions by the other tent stakes making the situation mucho worse. Suffice it to say, it hurts. Like a lot.
So there I was, stanky baby in my arms, just about wailing from pain and all alone. I got her changed, and back on the floor safely when I called my family for help. They came over immediately to take care of Joy and take my flapped ass to the ER. Long story short(er), I'm back home, everyone is ok and my back hurts like hell. It will too, for another few months, just to remind me not to be stupid (anymore). It's penance. I am a recovering catholic, so it's appropriate. I accept this.
This brings on a new feeling to me. As anyone who knows me knows I'm grappling with my new station in life. Heck that's the purpose of this blog. This event just brought me down a notch though. I was not the helpless one remember, I was the rock. I feel less like a rock and more like a sea cucumber. Kinda passively existing, waiting for the currents to bring me some grub. Not going after life, letting life wash over me. I've gone from existing in this world to hoping the world allows me to exist in it.Have I been here all along? I don't know. I doubt it. I would like to think not. A rock would not allow it. Well, maybe that's where the metaphor breaks down. Anyway, I digress. Right now I am more or less helpless. There was not much to do in my pre-injury life, and I can do even less now.
So now, I'm grappling with the idea of being even less effective than before. What will be the outcome? I don't know, I can't offer any solutions at the moment. I had tried to make some money to help the budget around here, and I did make a little. Every little bit helps, but it was really only a drop in the bucket. I have to find a way to get my mind through all this. I have to find a way to be comfortable with this, but not too comfortable. That's a mighty fine line to walk, if I do say so myself. If I get comfortable with my lifestyle, will maybe some day come that I can't be comfortable with another? Will I become lazy? Does it ever come back? I'm told it does. By "it" I mean the "it" that was lost when I took this new job. "It" would be drive, motivation, whatever you want to call it. Rocks have "it". I feel I'm losing "it" and "it" won't come back, now that I'm even farther away than a few days ago.
You can't see the stag in your scope if you're too close to it. You have to step away to get the big picture and line up your shot, otherwise it is too blurry. I have a new perspective on my new job. I've taken a step back and maybe even though I'm further down from where I was before, I can hopefully see it now more clearly and get the big picture. I am hoping to see it for what it is, not for what I was in it. Or what I am in it. Maybe I was too close to it. It's not about me anyway, is it?
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