Once in a while I get this feeling that I should be writing. It’s odd because nothing has happened, I’m not upset or going through any emotional crisis and I haven’t done anything that would warrant my need of putting things down on paper as it were. Be that as it may, right now, I feel the need to write.
Now, what to write about? That’s usually the easiest part of it for me. There used to be a time, once I picked a subject, that I’d start the piece and also research the subject at the same time. I don’t do that anymore. I think my style of writing has changed over time. I used to write a great deal about items in the news or social issues. I don’t do that as much as I used to, I guess I write more out of feelings now. You can’t really research feelings, you just let them pour out, I think. Most everything I write is spur of the moment kind of stuff. By that, I mean it just comes to me. I’ll be sitting in my chair, television on or music playing from my itunes library and something hits me. Either something that’s said on the tube or a song plays that gets me thinking. If it’s something that really hits me I’ll have a completed post in 15 minutes.
Recently, I’ve started playing golf. I find it, for the most part, incredibly frustrating. There are, however, moments of pure bliss and it’s those moments of bliss that make it worthwhile. Writing, to me, is kinda like the same thing. I’ll write something, and most times, I can’t bear the thought of admitting that I’m responsible for what I’m reading. There are, however, times when the keyboard gods are kind. I’ll sometimes see something that actually makes me proud. Once in a while I’ll find a sentence that gets to me. I’ll read it over and over again and just marvel at how well it works right where I put it. It’s like hitting a great tee shot on the golf course. I’ll just marvel at the beauty of it. it doesn’t happen very often but when it does, well, I get this feeling like I just may be on to something here. Let’s see if I can do the same thing on the next hole or the next paragraph. It sometimes happens and it’s a great feeling. It’s why I play the game, if you know what I mean.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Another Step Backwards
Took a huge step backwards last night. I was out with a number of old friends, chatting, laughing and seemingly having a very nice time. I felt good and was enjoying myself when, all of a sudden, I was hit with a wave of panic or fear that just floored me. It’s been such a long time since I’ve dealt with this issue that, while the waves were rushing over me, I felt like I was going to cry from the disappointment. I mean it, it was so upsetting to see something I haven’t had to deal with in such a long time. I really thought I had conquered this ridiculous fear I’ve dealt with so many times.
As quickly as I could, I said my goodbyes and got out of the restaurant and into my car. Sitting there for a short time, I thought I had better get going before anyone from my group saw me. Sitting here right now, I’m certain that even if I were to be seen, nobody would have known anything was wrong. At that moment though, well, I thought I was the focal point of every person in the whole world.
It’s so strange the way my mind works in situations like this. I mean, here I was, having some sort of nervous attack, yet all the while knowing what I was going through and that there really was nothing to be afraid of. It’s like I’m fighting myself over whatever it is that has me in this state. It really is feeling like I’m going mad. It’s a pretty heavy argument going on inside while stuff like this happens. Logic yelling at, what seems to me at the time, insanity. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s also embarrassing. What in the world could possibly make me so full of anxiety at a time when everything was fine? I was drinking Iced Tea, others were getting their dinner and we were all having good conversation and a fine time. It’s all very, I don’t know, sad to me.
So, I came home, watched the end of the Tiger game and went for a drive. I didn’t go anywhere in particular, just listened to N.P.R. for a while. When I got home it started all over again. I was playing golf in the morning and all I could think of were ways to get out of playing. Why? No real reason. It’s just what I do to myself to make sure I can’t just relax. I didn’t sleep, as my head was a bastion of nonsensical thought fighting against logic. The argument ensued throughout the evening until morning. Of course I played and had a great time. Getting there however was horrible.
I don’t know what I can do to stop this. The idea of doing this kind of stuff to myself on a regular basis again is something I’m not real sure I can deal with in an adult like manner. I don’t want to deal with the pressure and the only real alternative is to just stay inside. I can’t do that to myself. It’s been a long hard fight to get out of that routine and I just can’t afford the energy needed to start all over again.
As quickly as I could, I said my goodbyes and got out of the restaurant and into my car. Sitting there for a short time, I thought I had better get going before anyone from my group saw me. Sitting here right now, I’m certain that even if I were to be seen, nobody would have known anything was wrong. At that moment though, well, I thought I was the focal point of every person in the whole world.
It’s so strange the way my mind works in situations like this. I mean, here I was, having some sort of nervous attack, yet all the while knowing what I was going through and that there really was nothing to be afraid of. It’s like I’m fighting myself over whatever it is that has me in this state. It really is feeling like I’m going mad. It’s a pretty heavy argument going on inside while stuff like this happens. Logic yelling at, what seems to me at the time, insanity. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s also embarrassing. What in the world could possibly make me so full of anxiety at a time when everything was fine? I was drinking Iced Tea, others were getting their dinner and we were all having good conversation and a fine time. It’s all very, I don’t know, sad to me.
So, I came home, watched the end of the Tiger game and went for a drive. I didn’t go anywhere in particular, just listened to N.P.R. for a while. When I got home it started all over again. I was playing golf in the morning and all I could think of were ways to get out of playing. Why? No real reason. It’s just what I do to myself to make sure I can’t just relax. I didn’t sleep, as my head was a bastion of nonsensical thought fighting against logic. The argument ensued throughout the evening until morning. Of course I played and had a great time. Getting there however was horrible.
I don’t know what I can do to stop this. The idea of doing this kind of stuff to myself on a regular basis again is something I’m not real sure I can deal with in an adult like manner. I don’t want to deal with the pressure and the only real alternative is to just stay inside. I can’t do that to myself. It’s been a long hard fight to get out of that routine and I just can’t afford the energy needed to start all over again.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
A Little Summertime Music
Went to another concert last night. Chicago and The Doobie Brothers. I went not expecting too much, never having been a big fan of the “Doobies”, and having seen Chicago a number of times over the years. I expected a nice show, nothing more, nothing less.
The Doobies opened and, while knowing most of the songs, I don’t think I’d know the names of too many of them. It was the first time I’d ever seen them and it was just ok for me. I didn’t dislike them, just nothing that grabbed me emotionally. That’s what I like in music, what grabs me and makes me feel, the emotional connection I get when hearing a certain song. I’ve never felt that way with these guys and got pretty much what I expected out of the gig.
I didn’t really know what to expect out of Chicago either. I hadn’t seen them in years and really didn’t think they’d do much more than play a number of their biggest hits in a radio like format and I’d go home feeling as if I’d got my moneys worth. I haven’t listened to a complete Chicago album since they released their seventh album around 35 years ago. Being the musical stuff shirt I am, I found nothing of any relevance in any of their stuff since. Obviously, the best-case scenario for me would be if they played a bunch of their old songs. They didn’t let me down.
Opening with “Make Me Smile” from their second album, they played the entire “suite” of songs including the hit, “Colour My World” while closing the song with the final chorus of “Make Me Smile” just as it is on the album. It was really well done and totally unexpected. I was happy to hear it and was even more pleased when their second song was “Dialogue” from their fifth album. another of my favorite songs of theirs. I don’t remember the order of songs for the rest of the show but they played a number of tunes from their first album: “Beginnings”, “25 or 6 to 4”, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is” and a smoking version of “I’m A Man” all, from their first release, and a number of others from their early days.
They did play a number of the obligatory easy listening hits they had in the 80’s and 90’s and I could have done without them but painless enough I guess. All in all it was a pretty good show, much more than I expected. Back in the day, these guys were quite the groundbreaking act. The mixing of brass and rock could be heard by “Blood Sweat and Tears” but these guys were a real rock band/ Just as interested in the music as with the lyrics. Listen to their first couple albums, there’s some really nice instrumentals along with their hits. It was nice to see they hadn’t forgotten that, it seemed the crowd remembered too.
The Doobies opened and, while knowing most of the songs, I don’t think I’d know the names of too many of them. It was the first time I’d ever seen them and it was just ok for me. I didn’t dislike them, just nothing that grabbed me emotionally. That’s what I like in music, what grabs me and makes me feel, the emotional connection I get when hearing a certain song. I’ve never felt that way with these guys and got pretty much what I expected out of the gig.
I didn’t really know what to expect out of Chicago either. I hadn’t seen them in years and really didn’t think they’d do much more than play a number of their biggest hits in a radio like format and I’d go home feeling as if I’d got my moneys worth. I haven’t listened to a complete Chicago album since they released their seventh album around 35 years ago. Being the musical stuff shirt I am, I found nothing of any relevance in any of their stuff since. Obviously, the best-case scenario for me would be if they played a bunch of their old songs. They didn’t let me down.
Opening with “Make Me Smile” from their second album, they played the entire “suite” of songs including the hit, “Colour My World” while closing the song with the final chorus of “Make Me Smile” just as it is on the album. It was really well done and totally unexpected. I was happy to hear it and was even more pleased when their second song was “Dialogue” from their fifth album. another of my favorite songs of theirs. I don’t remember the order of songs for the rest of the show but they played a number of tunes from their first album: “Beginnings”, “25 or 6 to 4”, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is” and a smoking version of “I’m A Man” all, from their first release, and a number of others from their early days.
They did play a number of the obligatory easy listening hits they had in the 80’s and 90’s and I could have done without them but painless enough I guess. All in all it was a pretty good show, much more than I expected. Back in the day, these guys were quite the groundbreaking act. The mixing of brass and rock could be heard by “Blood Sweat and Tears” but these guys were a real rock band/ Just as interested in the music as with the lyrics. Listen to their first couple albums, there’s some really nice instrumentals along with their hits. It was nice to see they hadn’t forgotten that, it seemed the crowd remembered too.
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Next Best Thing
I think Pete Townshend is one of the great songwriters of this, or any, generation. A couple years ago I wrote a piece that went through a short history of his career and pretty much let my feelings on his abilities be known. I’ve never seen either Townshend, nor his band, “The Who” live before and it’s something I regret. I did, however, have the chance to see Roger Daltry, the lead singer of The Who, in concert last week and was really impressed.
He was at a local outdoor venue and was the opening act for Eric Clapton. Let me say this before I get beat up by all my friends who already think I’m crazy. Eric Clapton is a great guitar player. One of the best ever to pick up the instrument. He’s just not my cup of tea. Just as Mozart was an amazing composer yet I don’t see myself going to see a concert of his music. I’m just not into it. I was there to see Daltry and I was far from disappointed.
Opening with “I Can See For Miles” followed by “Can You See The Real Me”, I started to get a real feeling of what I was in for. Both songs, classics by any rock standard, sung by the very voice that gave them life, so many years ago. He followed these up with two songs, one by “Taj Mahal” and the other, a song written by him that sounded familiar. I’m not sure if I’d heard it before but it had that “Who” sound we’re all accustomed too. The crowd seemed to be enjoying themselves but appeared to be waiting to see what was next. Daltry has released eight albums outside of his work with The Who and he could have gone either way at this point. I think he chose the right path.
The rest of the show was, save for one song, a tribute to Pete Townshend’s songwriting. Though there were only six more songs, all were well known and highly appreciated by the crowd. To hear the song, “Behind Blue Eyes” almost had me in a trance. A song with such a beautiful melody, with lyrics of such pain and angst, written when Townshend was only 26, reminded me, once again, why I’m in such awe of his abilities to lay it all out there for all to appreciate.
“When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool.”
Gets me every time.
You know, it would have been wonderful to see Townshend there too but this was surely the next best thing. Roger Daltry knows where the butter comes from for his bread and he’s not ashamed to admit it. I like that.
He was at a local outdoor venue and was the opening act for Eric Clapton. Let me say this before I get beat up by all my friends who already think I’m crazy. Eric Clapton is a great guitar player. One of the best ever to pick up the instrument. He’s just not my cup of tea. Just as Mozart was an amazing composer yet I don’t see myself going to see a concert of his music. I’m just not into it. I was there to see Daltry and I was far from disappointed.
Opening with “I Can See For Miles” followed by “Can You See The Real Me”, I started to get a real feeling of what I was in for. Both songs, classics by any rock standard, sung by the very voice that gave them life, so many years ago. He followed these up with two songs, one by “Taj Mahal” and the other, a song written by him that sounded familiar. I’m not sure if I’d heard it before but it had that “Who” sound we’re all accustomed too. The crowd seemed to be enjoying themselves but appeared to be waiting to see what was next. Daltry has released eight albums outside of his work with The Who and he could have gone either way at this point. I think he chose the right path.
The rest of the show was, save for one song, a tribute to Pete Townshend’s songwriting. Though there were only six more songs, all were well known and highly appreciated by the crowd. To hear the song, “Behind Blue Eyes” almost had me in a trance. A song with such a beautiful melody, with lyrics of such pain and angst, written when Townshend was only 26, reminded me, once again, why I’m in such awe of his abilities to lay it all out there for all to appreciate.
“When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool.”
Gets me every time.
You know, it would have been wonderful to see Townshend there too but this was surely the next best thing. Roger Daltry knows where the butter comes from for his bread and he’s not ashamed to admit it. I like that.
Friday, July 9, 2010
There But For The Grace...
I’ve written a few times about my Father and how, well, let’s just say different, he is. Now he’s facing a reality he is totally unprepared for and, his chosen way of dealing with things can be described by many words. Sad, embarrassing and frightening are just a few that come to mind.
Dad retired form the work force around five years ago. When he retired, according to him, he had what he, along with most others, considered enough money to live in the style he was accustomed. Well to say things have changed would be an understatement. According to him, everything was lost in the financial markets but those that know his situation think quite differently. Dad’s been supporting a family of four, along with himself for a number of years. Knowing him and the way he “needs” to put on the show, it’s quite apparent that they simply spent whenever any whim hit them. She hasn’t worked in ages and his was the only money available to them. Well, the money ran out and decisions had to be made. Decisions that have caused pain to a number of folks but none more so than Dad.
Dad recently moved into an assisted living facility. According to anyone that knows the place, it’s quite nice and has anything he could possibly need. According to him, it’s a place where people go to die. He told me the other day that the closest person in age to him is at least 10 to 15 years older than him. As I write this it strikes me that that may be one of his biggest problems. I don’t think Dad realizes that he really is 78 years old. David, my brother, helped find the place and he said the woman that runs the facility said the average age is actually younger than Dad. I think this is a classic case of not seeing ones self as others see you. You know, your own eyes always see things differently than the reality of the situation.
Dad turned 78 the other day. I called to wish him a Happy Birthday and he responded with a kinda grunt. He then told me “thank you. I just want to die.” How does one respond to that? I mumbled something and we continued the conversation and he would say something and follow it up with the wanting to die statement. He would follow that by telling me he wasn’t joking and we’d go on to something else. I asked him a number of times what about the place was so bad and the worst thing he could come up with was that he took some Iced Tea up to his room and there wasn’t any sweet n low in the tea when he drank it.
I think what has really happened here can only be blamed on one person, him. Everything Dad has ever done in his life has led to this very moment. It was him that decided he really wanted to avoid any relationship with anyone in his family, not us. It was he who decided that knowing his sons wives names wasn’t important, not us. It was he that decided that knowing his Grandchildren, in even the smallest sense, wasn’t something that might be worthwhile, not us. He was the one that thought it important to move in with a woman, younger than his own youngest child, and give her free reign over all his finances to support her children, send them on vacations in the Caribbean and, in the end, the ability to spend every penny he had in five or six short years. Now, it is him that still believes he’s gotten the short stick in life and has found himself in a situation that could have been avoided so easily it really is embarrassing.
Sounds like I’m really mad at him at a time that he could use support from all of us. Maybe I am. I do feel sorry for him and I do understand how he feels right now. I also see that this is exactly the life he laid out for himself from the moment he became cognoscente of living an adult life. There’s a life lesson here that I could use in my own life and I guess I should thank him for that but I’m a long way from taking the whole lesson to heart. I will say this: it may take a while but I will learn from this. Those that I’ve neglected, don’t give up on me yet. I’m coming back and one day, when I get there, I hope you’re open to me again. If not, I’ll understand, won’t be happy, but I’ll understand.
Dad retired form the work force around five years ago. When he retired, according to him, he had what he, along with most others, considered enough money to live in the style he was accustomed. Well to say things have changed would be an understatement. According to him, everything was lost in the financial markets but those that know his situation think quite differently. Dad’s been supporting a family of four, along with himself for a number of years. Knowing him and the way he “needs” to put on the show, it’s quite apparent that they simply spent whenever any whim hit them. She hasn’t worked in ages and his was the only money available to them. Well, the money ran out and decisions had to be made. Decisions that have caused pain to a number of folks but none more so than Dad.
Dad recently moved into an assisted living facility. According to anyone that knows the place, it’s quite nice and has anything he could possibly need. According to him, it’s a place where people go to die. He told me the other day that the closest person in age to him is at least 10 to 15 years older than him. As I write this it strikes me that that may be one of his biggest problems. I don’t think Dad realizes that he really is 78 years old. David, my brother, helped find the place and he said the woman that runs the facility said the average age is actually younger than Dad. I think this is a classic case of not seeing ones self as others see you. You know, your own eyes always see things differently than the reality of the situation.
Dad turned 78 the other day. I called to wish him a Happy Birthday and he responded with a kinda grunt. He then told me “thank you. I just want to die.” How does one respond to that? I mumbled something and we continued the conversation and he would say something and follow it up with the wanting to die statement. He would follow that by telling me he wasn’t joking and we’d go on to something else. I asked him a number of times what about the place was so bad and the worst thing he could come up with was that he took some Iced Tea up to his room and there wasn’t any sweet n low in the tea when he drank it.
I think what has really happened here can only be blamed on one person, him. Everything Dad has ever done in his life has led to this very moment. It was him that decided he really wanted to avoid any relationship with anyone in his family, not us. It was he who decided that knowing his sons wives names wasn’t important, not us. It was he that decided that knowing his Grandchildren, in even the smallest sense, wasn’t something that might be worthwhile, not us. He was the one that thought it important to move in with a woman, younger than his own youngest child, and give her free reign over all his finances to support her children, send them on vacations in the Caribbean and, in the end, the ability to spend every penny he had in five or six short years. Now, it is him that still believes he’s gotten the short stick in life and has found himself in a situation that could have been avoided so easily it really is embarrassing.
Sounds like I’m really mad at him at a time that he could use support from all of us. Maybe I am. I do feel sorry for him and I do understand how he feels right now. I also see that this is exactly the life he laid out for himself from the moment he became cognoscente of living an adult life. There’s a life lesson here that I could use in my own life and I guess I should thank him for that but I’m a long way from taking the whole lesson to heart. I will say this: it may take a while but I will learn from this. Those that I’ve neglected, don’t give up on me yet. I’m coming back and one day, when I get there, I hope you’re open to me again. If not, I’ll understand, won’t be happy, but I’ll understand.
Friday, July 2, 2010
This Isn't An Option
Funny, sometimes, how things turn out. 49 years old and my buckets' empty. I just feel like I want to be done. I know, I know, I’m just having a hard time and things will most certainly get better. Still doesn’t make things easy. Seriously, is there anything that makes things easy? I want to go away so bad it hurts. I don’t mean on a vacation either. I want a one-way ticket to anywhere and get completely lost in a crowd. My last post ended with me talking about how important it is sometimes to have someone hold ones hand to help him or her get through life. Something’s going on now that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my hand held tight enough and I truly don’t know what to do.
I’ve got a friend that’s sick. She’s got a few different problems, none of which are easily dealt with, and she’s hurting. She’s got more friends than you could possibly imagine and each and every one of them is giving her any and all support they can. Me, I just sit in my chair and weep. I drive in my car and lose the ability to breathe. I’m at the gym and have to hop off the treadmill and run to the locker room to make sure nobody sees me trembling and wiping my eyes. Once again, as I did when Steve was sick, I seem to be feeling my pain over this rather than understanding hers. I’ll never understand how some deal with this kind of stuff.
I’m feeling the highs when there’s good news but I’m just crushed when it’s not so good. I’m on this roller coaster of emotions and along with it comes the guilt. I’m almost ashamed to constantly look at this from my perspective. I wish with all my heart that I could see things any other way but this. I just don’t know how that works. If someone knows how that works, feel free to drop me a line.
I don’t know if she’ll be reading this but if she does I do want to say a few things to her:
I told you a while ago how and why you mean so much to me and the gratitude I feel just for having you be a part of my life can never be fully explained so anyone outside of my head would understand. You just need to know it’s true. Yes, this is going to sound selfish but your not getting better simply isn’t an option. I can’t have it and because of that, as far as I’m concerned, neither can you. I, along with so many others, need you well. I would trade places with you in a heartbeat but we both know it’s not possible. Therefore, you just have to get better. You just have to.
Look Kid, it’s like this: well, you know…
I’ve got a friend that’s sick. She’s got a few different problems, none of which are easily dealt with, and she’s hurting. She’s got more friends than you could possibly imagine and each and every one of them is giving her any and all support they can. Me, I just sit in my chair and weep. I drive in my car and lose the ability to breathe. I’m at the gym and have to hop off the treadmill and run to the locker room to make sure nobody sees me trembling and wiping my eyes. Once again, as I did when Steve was sick, I seem to be feeling my pain over this rather than understanding hers. I’ll never understand how some deal with this kind of stuff.
I’m feeling the highs when there’s good news but I’m just crushed when it’s not so good. I’m on this roller coaster of emotions and along with it comes the guilt. I’m almost ashamed to constantly look at this from my perspective. I wish with all my heart that I could see things any other way but this. I just don’t know how that works. If someone knows how that works, feel free to drop me a line.
I don’t know if she’ll be reading this but if she does I do want to say a few things to her:
I told you a while ago how and why you mean so much to me and the gratitude I feel just for having you be a part of my life can never be fully explained so anyone outside of my head would understand. You just need to know it’s true. Yes, this is going to sound selfish but your not getting better simply isn’t an option. I can’t have it and because of that, as far as I’m concerned, neither can you. I, along with so many others, need you well. I would trade places with you in a heartbeat but we both know it’s not possible. Therefore, you just have to get better. You just have to.
Look Kid, it’s like this: well, you know…
Monday, June 14, 2010
It's Just A Mess Up Here
There’s a few things that have happened lately that have really been eye openers to me, and great fodder for friends. Nothing ground breaking and I sort of lead the way when it comes to self-depreciation. I have, however, learned a thing or two about myself. I saw, first hand, my brain working and failing miserably at some things that would seem quite elementary to someone like me, hell, to anyone.
A couple weeks before I went to California I bought myself a new electric razor. I packed it in my suitcase and when I got to Los Angeles, after opening my bag, I found that the blades had all fallen off the razor. We’re talking about the round heads that go against your face when you shave. I found all the pieces and laid them out in front of me. What happened next can only be described as sensory overload. There were six pieces that needed to be put together to make three pieces. Then they needed to be put onto the shaver and all would supposedly be well. Seeing the pieces on the bed as I unpacked the suitcase, I became almost afraid. I’m not sure if that’s the right word. I somehow couldn’t wrap my brain around the concept of what had to be done.
It seemed like there had to be at least 10,000 things to do in order to make things the way they should be. I’m staring at these six pieces and I was overcome with this sense of both worry and disappointment. The worry, simply of what I was going to do. The disappointment? Well, from the realization of what was happening in my head. I made a few feeble attempts at putting it together and, of course, I just couldn’t seem to put the process needed into any kind of action that made sense. I felt like such an idiot. Fortunately, my ex wife came home and sat at the dining room table and put the shaver back together in a matter of minutes.
Of course I spoke to Shrink about it and she, once again, brought up how this was yet another instance of me displaying the classic symptoms of A.D.D. I just like to think of it as me being an idiot.
The razor is just one of many instances of things like this throughout my life. It’s more noticeable as a problem now because I’m by myself. I’ve always had others help me take care of things. As a child, my Mother or my Brothers and Sister would always be the leaders in putting bikes, toys and other things together that would have more than two or three pieces. After I got married, Shelly was always taking care of stuff like that. Even now, after my divorce, friends are usually around enabling me to hide this rather embarrassing problem. It’s even more embarrassing now because I’ve brought it into the forefront. I use it as a joke when I’m with friends because, let’s face it, it’s funny to think that I’ve still got pieces of a fan that’s been on my couch for over three weeks because it confuses me when I look at it.
The whole concept has always bothered me. I could never figure out why I could never put a jigsaw puzzle together for instance. I’d look at the pieces and no matter what color or shape the pieces were; they’d always look the same to me and literally blend into one another. No matter how hard I’d try, I just couldn’t, and still can’t, get it to make sense in my head. It was always so hard to explain to not only others, but myself as well. How could this guy, who everyone believes is a rather bright guy, be such an idiot when it comes to these simple things that shouldn’t be an issue for the simplest of people?
It’s really something to think I’ve gotten this far in life being so dependent on others to help me with literally anything I’ve needed to do. I’ve always had either family or friends help me through every step of doing anything I’ve ever had to do. It’s like having someone hold your hand when crossing the street. There’s something to be said for holding someone’s hand, don’t you think?
A couple weeks before I went to California I bought myself a new electric razor. I packed it in my suitcase and when I got to Los Angeles, after opening my bag, I found that the blades had all fallen off the razor. We’re talking about the round heads that go against your face when you shave. I found all the pieces and laid them out in front of me. What happened next can only be described as sensory overload. There were six pieces that needed to be put together to make three pieces. Then they needed to be put onto the shaver and all would supposedly be well. Seeing the pieces on the bed as I unpacked the suitcase, I became almost afraid. I’m not sure if that’s the right word. I somehow couldn’t wrap my brain around the concept of what had to be done.
It seemed like there had to be at least 10,000 things to do in order to make things the way they should be. I’m staring at these six pieces and I was overcome with this sense of both worry and disappointment. The worry, simply of what I was going to do. The disappointment? Well, from the realization of what was happening in my head. I made a few feeble attempts at putting it together and, of course, I just couldn’t seem to put the process needed into any kind of action that made sense. I felt like such an idiot. Fortunately, my ex wife came home and sat at the dining room table and put the shaver back together in a matter of minutes.
Of course I spoke to Shrink about it and she, once again, brought up how this was yet another instance of me displaying the classic symptoms of A.D.D. I just like to think of it as me being an idiot.
The razor is just one of many instances of things like this throughout my life. It’s more noticeable as a problem now because I’m by myself. I’ve always had others help me take care of things. As a child, my Mother or my Brothers and Sister would always be the leaders in putting bikes, toys and other things together that would have more than two or three pieces. After I got married, Shelly was always taking care of stuff like that. Even now, after my divorce, friends are usually around enabling me to hide this rather embarrassing problem. It’s even more embarrassing now because I’ve brought it into the forefront. I use it as a joke when I’m with friends because, let’s face it, it’s funny to think that I’ve still got pieces of a fan that’s been on my couch for over three weeks because it confuses me when I look at it.
The whole concept has always bothered me. I could never figure out why I could never put a jigsaw puzzle together for instance. I’d look at the pieces and no matter what color or shape the pieces were; they’d always look the same to me and literally blend into one another. No matter how hard I’d try, I just couldn’t, and still can’t, get it to make sense in my head. It was always so hard to explain to not only others, but myself as well. How could this guy, who everyone believes is a rather bright guy, be such an idiot when it comes to these simple things that shouldn’t be an issue for the simplest of people?
It’s really something to think I’ve gotten this far in life being so dependent on others to help me with literally anything I’ve needed to do. I’ve always had either family or friends help me through every step of doing anything I’ve ever had to do. It’s like having someone hold your hand when crossing the street. There’s something to be said for holding someone’s hand, don’t you think?
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