#88 Unstable Ground

.....something has knocked us off course, so we struggle to course-correct.

Where do I stand in this world? Man, when we can confidently answer that question we have the battle won. There are periods of time where we know who we are and where we stand. There are other periods of time where we are clueless, either because we’ve lost our way or someone/something has knocked us off course, so we struggle to course-correct.

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Where do I stand? On unstable ground.

I’m still suffering from the initial shock from that phone call over two years ago.

I still cringe every time my phone rings. Always expecting more bad news.

A rush of fear overtakes me if my wife so much as lets out a gasp in responding to a movie she’s watching in the living room.

Sudden movements by other people cause my fists to go up in self defense.

Simple tasks are still difficult.

My coordination continues to get worse.

My nerve-shaken mind turns to negative scenarios when I don’t hear from my son for several days. Sometimes even when I do.

Holding up my end of basic conversations is still an struggle most of the time. I drift in and out or can’t follow along.

Sleeping pills are still a must every night.

I’m trying my best to work but find myself enraged each morning as I leave the house, in absolute fear of the day, feeling as if I have to face the whole day in one moment of time, yet unable to move through it minute by minute.

I find myself ducking into utility closets or heading to the nearest exit to cope with anxiety, or turning up the volume on my earbuds to drown out the various overstimulating sounds found in any school.

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A parent’s love and concern for his child, regardless of their age, can become a self-destructive element. Watching them struggle through the normal challenges of life is tough enough. Watching them live in a state of low expectations for themselves, with multiple avenues for success but refusing to take them, refusing help that would actually help, being one slip-up away from life altering consequences while walking the razor sharp edge of destruction, well, that’s a hell that any caring parent can hardly bear.

I don’t know how to release myself from the burdens of this level of concern and worry. I’m afraid that if I do I will become detached from more than my concern for my son, that it would start a chain reaction - resulting in me dethatching from everything and everyone.

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It was difficult for me to write some of these stories, to relive the bad days over and over again. Anxieties were rekindled, causing me to lash out in frustrations.

I became overwhelmed when structuring the chapters and when deciding what to add and what to keep out.

The mere act of typing was more difficult due to my dyslexia being in hyper mode for the past few years, combine that with my fading hand-eye coordination, the result was me facing a computer screen full of misspelled words underlined in red and blue.

I still rely on sleeping aids each night to sleep.

I still have outbursts of frustration over small things.

I still drift off into a daze, glare into the distance, losing moments of time.

I’m far more forgetful and confused than a man under fifty should be.

I still have trouble figuring out small daily problems that I used to do automatically, naturally, effortlessly.

Pieces of myself have been disappearing.

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Silhouettes

I came across a drawing of two silhouettes standing face to face.

One is a father. The other, his son.

The son had a empty square-shaped space missing from his silhouette.

The father is holding one small square in his hand, passing it over to his son to fill the empty space.

The square piece came directly from the father.

The Father is missing many small squares from his silhouette.

He is not whole, yet he continues giving pieces of himself to his son.

I can’t help but wonder how much the father can give away before he is no longer able to give any more. How much can a person can give of themselves before there’s simply nothing left to give? How much can a person give of themselves before they completely lose themselves?

Some days we feel like we are able to give the world to others. Some days we are so depleted that we’ve nothing left to give.

Sometimes we pull squares from such deep places within ourselves that we are seriously wounded, forever scared.

- Jason “Sprawl” Durham

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