The ellipsis above and likely anything on my blog from day one to current is a connection to the lack of clarity that I feel in myself, not necessarily for myself but for what I’m trying to convey or say. With the last seven years being a mighty f*** all of a time, I’m finding myself struggling and I thought for a while I was struggling briefly, but that’s not the truth. I’m tired, I’m stressed, and I’m more than confused. I’m pissed. Upon
Finding that I had MS, I didn’t expect the issues to pervade my every detail and aspect of life and everything. The worst part about it, and shame on me for even having the gall to think of it, I thought I’d have more support.
I know right? The nerve of thinking and the dangers that came with the thought were overwhelming in that the illusion was a better aspect than that of reality. Now it’s just seen as an excuse or groaned at and disregarded in a fashion that makes every day a challenge.
Case in point: I’m a father, husband, and writer, this means that if I have free time to write, I better make sure my family, especially my wife and son are given full and total attention. Fuck the writing. Fuck my dream and wanting to actually provide the blog with story after story. I need to have both ears pressed to my family and their beating heart.
Though I know it’s a bit of a whine, it’s true I’m fully dedicated to my family and I definitely made some stupid mistakes that have made a reconsidering of a myriad of things but what I’ve come to knowing is that I love being a dad and I love being a husband I love being a family man in the true respects. I love being readily available for both of them I love being readily available for my teen who’s on their own journey looking for Independence… Though that Independence calls to an almost incessant asking for a bunch of free s***. Will get back to that at another point or juncture who knows.
So the thing is my lesions are on lower part of my spine making it difficult to walk making it difficult to do certain things my knees kind of give out sometimes my hips give out but the worst aspect is I have lesions in my mother f****** brain! So when I was initially told this I didn’t really give it much thought I didn’t give it much weight cuz I was like I’m not going to let Ms knock me down very much like the commercials. And then lo and behold month by month and year by year, there was this resounding perspective that I was neglecting, I get confused, and I don’t just get confused I get lost, (as an insurance agent that’s detrimental to the f****** job). And with it I found schools become harder life has become harder and I hate acknowledging that I hate just addressing it but that’s something that I’ve realized I have to do because if not I just look like a lazy piece of crap who’s not doing anything and it’s not that. Those lesions in my brain bring a smorgasbord of nonsense words puzzle pieces oddly fitting but only for myself and no one else and I’m doing everything I can using grammarly even AI to help gained a perspective not only gain a perspective but 8 to bringing a benefit to what I’m actually trying to do.
Which is again another reason among too many funerals, emotional weight and depression I haven’t produced shit. Sadly and ashamed, I write to you this. It is flipping hard and not having the support makes it that much harder. I’m exhausted and though I would love to write I want to write I want to write every f****** day, I want to tell stories I want to do art, I want to show what I can do and what I can bring to the story of our community, our world, our youth. So I’m trying and I promise I’m not cussing at you I’m just emotional and instead of putting myself on a video on IG or facebook, I’m talking to you the reader I am emotional and I’m doing everything I can to get my s*** back together, because I want to be a writer for the rest of my life however short or long that may be. I want to produce a memoir for this amazing man that I met named John Walker which I’m trying to work on, I want to finish up my bachelors and steer towards a masters in English. But then comes the fallacy that I don’t belong.
Dream Dark Stories 