Zoo ... the turning point in my war came this past summer. One day it dawned on me that I wasn’t the problem, and I never had been. I had always interpreted all of the bad things in my life as confirmation that there was something wrong with me. I just kinda went to this place in my mind and a switch flipped and I said to myself, verbally and kinda loud and angry “I’m not the fucking problem here and never have been.”
Not very long after that, I crashed my bike, and messed myself up pretty well - broke my left leg and kneepcap, rotator cuff injury to my left shoulder, and mangled my right thumb pretty well, I’ve now got some titanium hardware holding it back together, a couole of pretty deep cuts, road rash, and I had some pretty funky mental fog issues due to a concussion. ER visits at the time of the crash, and again later because I got an infection in the wound on my broken leg, surgery on my hand and a cast, I was on crutches until this week, lots of appointments, physical therapy, etc.
Previously I would have viewed that as another smackdown from God/the Cosmos/Karma telling me I was a piece of shit and deserved punishment. Everything about this experience would have made me miserable.
Except ... damn! Weirdest thing any man has ever said, but ... I am so glad this happened. It was a test ... and I passed with flying colors. Getting through that, and handling it really well emotionally - calm, purposeful, in control of how I let all of this play out, and just toughing out the pain and making my life, my agenda work around all of that - I feel like such a badass mo-fo right now. I used to think I was this weak little pathetic excuse of a boy who existed just to be used and abused. Well, damn, I’m like Kenny- I CAN’T DiE!
I could give a hundred examples of experiences and my responses in the two months since the accident of just how 180 opposite I’ve handled tough situations and challenges from how “the old victim me” would have. But I’ll paint a visual - a week ago, I decided it was time to get back on my bike. I’m tough, but I’m not a glutton for punishment, so I bought myself full bmx/mt bike style body armour, knee, ankle, elbow, and wrist guards, a neck guard, suited up, strapped my crutches to the top tube of my bike, and rode 20 miles - with a groin to ankle metal brace on my left leg no less. I felt like such a badass tough mother f’cker, I was on top of the world! I’ve survived a lot of shit in my life, from abuse through refractory anemia/chronic myeloid leukemia and damn, it took me 52 years, but I finally realized I’m tough, I am a man, and no one is EVER gonna fuck with me again and get away with it.
And that, right there, is the answer I’ve sought all of my life. I was lead to believe I was the sheep, weak, scared and vulnerable, but I’m no sheep, I’m the goddamned Wolf, and believe me, from here on out, my life is about the pursuit of my prey (my life goals) and I will not hesitate to bare my fangs and draw blood from my enemies.
