Neglect and Restoration

After 15 years
it took 5 grand
and 5 months
to get my mouth

back in order

broken teeth

rotted roots

cavities and crowns

the biggest hurdle

was beginning

the inertia of inaction

but once begun

the path to health

has its own momentum

and diligent, incremental

progress moves to stability

The Dentist

I neglected my teeth
for a decade
and a half

a result of fear

and a deliberate

willfulness

in returning 

I find it

if not convenient

or exactly pleasant

manageable

even if there is lots to do

lots of problems to rectify

the Doc kindly, calmly

laid out a plan

and all I have to do

is follow it

and in doing so

there is satisfaction

there is progress

there is health.

Coronavirus

Honestly
I'm more concerned
with enduring
all the discussion and coverage
of the viral outbreak
than weathering
the actual viral outbreak.

This has really given all my
ovine suburban co-workers
a license to open up and gab.

Cold Sore

Gross
I know
worse yet
to have the leering blemish
pulsing from your own
trusted lip
a betrayal
of your flesh,
your home
destined simply
to endure.

Relief From Impending Doom

Years ago
when I poured myself
from a bottle of Kentucky's own
Jim Beam
my default
my neutral
my normal
was a deep
and oppressive
Foreboding.

Years sober
I thought
I was above, beyond, the perils
of anxiety
and dread
but hubris
is ever
the downfall
of Icarus, Oedipus, and me.

My job
has become twisted
and acidic
each day
increasing degrees
of unpleasant
with the sense
of some iminent
catastrophe.

But yesterday
I called in sick
and today
got sent home
due to the potential
of lingering germs
the rest and relaxation
were rejuvenating
a relief from employment strain
and hope of new opportunities.

The Body

Although
the vitality of youth
is fading
or lets be honest
gone
I feel more solid
than ever
more at home
and capable
in my suit
of muscle, flesh, and bone
more fluid and myself
even graceful
not like a dancer
or wild cat
more a domesticated
and aging hound
comfortable
and
competent
not to say I am some speicmen
of mammalian might
but I have a certain strength
and stamina
(as do we all)
and know my limits
and can ply my will
with some measure
of head and limb
harmony
gone are the gangly days
the awkward days
the stumbling, bumbling, mumbling days
of juvenescence.

My health and vigor
may require more attention
but this mortal meat and marrow
I call Me
is Mine
with more Alacrity than ever.

Stop

On top of physical discomfort sickness eats up large slices of the clock.

I hope I'm not shackled much by time

but I do value activities, actions, and tasks accomplished.

So yesterday hobbled by a cold

I regretfully cancelled two standing appointments.

Unable to do much save endure I sat on the couch worrying over the things I was not doing.

I was in condition to nothing. Full stop.

As a free-wheeling, free-thinking, antonymous human being with much to do and write and see

it feels almost cosmically perverse

to be leveled by never-ending snot.

But I take my licks. Humbled by the common cold. Just another organism, no better or worse.

Floating, sneezing, labored breathing.

Waiting on incubation, white cell generation, and the methodical ticking of the clock.

Shivers

I woke up at Midnight
what some call
the witching hour
chilled to the bone
feet like cubes
chest like fog
teeth chattering
like some cartoon
skeleton
torso thrumming
to some silent
freezing rhythm
I staggered to the head
and evacuated
mostly liquid
painfully
only to crawl
back to bed
and bundle up
to shake and shiver
beep and bop
twist and tick
under the covers
in hopes of warmth
that seemed impossible
when faced with cold
unflinching, bone-deep
and insurmountable
after tortuous hours
where time slugged by
and I got a glimpse
of real hell
I drift off to sleep
only to awaken
blissfully hot
the cold broken
the virus caught

Sick

I'm lying on the floor
by my desk
at work
overcome
with the injustice
of being ill
I thought
sobriety
would exempt me
from the common cold
more fool me
another lesson
in hubris.

Deactivate

This past week I deactivated my Facebook account. In most respects I'm not an opponent of the digital(love instagram) but I just found myself upset by it while also compulsively checking it. The world can be a cruel place, this isn't anything new, every day there are small and large scale tragedies happening and I think its important to be informed. However.

Overtime I've found the echo chamber, grandstanding, toothless nature of Facebook to be truly off putting. I agree that important information needs to be spread but posting and sharing takes so little effort and even less understanding that it lacks any real meaning. There is also this element of posturing, of narcissism about it all, cultivating a "compassionate" and "informed" digital persona, an element of "look at me I'm so enlightened" that is just exhausting. It propagates the illusion of involvement, of influence, of progress.

In my experience even if the content that is being shared is good and the sentiment accompanying it genuine it does not incite change, it is not actually participation in a political or social discourse. Petition signing, monetary donations to organizations, actual in-the-flesh protests/demonstrations, those have some actual stakes. Sharing a Huffpost article with your circle of friends who have the same beliefs as you doesn't actually do much.

Our culture is more partisan than it has ever been, beliefs more ingrained. There is little ground given in debate and discussion, minds rarely changed. This is no where more apparent then on Facebook where huge threads will develop from that one antagonistic conservative/liberal friend you have from high school/former co-worker/family member who tenaciously comments and uses incendiary language. No one is persuaded, everyone is angry. It's a zero sum game.

This all coupled with the fact that my checking Facebook had become habitual. Whenever I had downtime at work, at home, while commuting, a spare minute in line at Starbucks I'd check it even though it almost unilaterally intensified my boredom and caused me frustration. I couldn't stop I had built it into my muscle memory.

Now I don't say all this out of a sense of self-righteousness or superiority I just got tired of it, it made me feel bad. Social Media and digital technology is suppose to be helpful, make life easier, streamline communication, bring people together. At this point with it so ingrained in our day-to-day lives we have to police how successful it is for us, how much we get out of it, and decide if it is, in fact, useful.

It's important to remember that true change, inspiration, and tolerance are found in reality. Not in a What Disney Villain Are You quiz or 14 Vital Things You Don't Know About Syria article, as diverting as those things may be.

Graffiti 179

"The dirty little secret of both clinical psychology and biological psychiatry is that they have completely given up on the notion of cure." -Martin Seligman

"I got into therapy in the fifth grade because I said in a sarcastic way that I was going to kill myself, and they didn't get it then. Nothing's changed." -Fiona Apple

"Words of comfort, skillfully administered, are the oldest therapy known to man." -Louis Nizer

"When I was younger, I was terrified to express anger because it would often kick-start a horrible reaction in the men in my life. So I bit my tongue. I was left to painstakingly deal with the aftermath of my avoidance later in life, in therapy or through the lyrics of my songs." -Alanis Morissette

SICK

This past weekend I caught a pretty mean cough. Stuffed up, sneezing, sore throat, the whole works. It always comes as a surprise how overwhelming it can be, how much it takes out of you. I went into work today and on the train I struggled not to cough on everyone. When I got in to work I was hyper aware of the coughing/sneezing/runny-noses of my co-workers, paranoid that my germs were spreading, guilty that I may have gotten or was getting them sick. Of course its just that time of year. Its spreading. Everyone is sick, has co-workers or friends that are sick.

The seasons change and its what happens. It still sucks. Each year I forget how debilitating being sick can be. It takes so much more effort to go through the normal routine of getting up, commuting, and sitting at a desk. I'm feeling particularly exhausted and uninspired.

Hopefully it clears up quickly. Just got to stay rested, hydrated, and optimistic.

Ghosts of Hangovers Past

At some point on the return trip from LA I got a cold. The past couple days its been a bit of a struggle to get back into the swing of things. As a sober person I rarely get sick and when I do those cold and flu symptoms- nausea, fever, fatigue, general acheyness, insomnia- always bring back that time in my life when I was perpetually hungover. The physiological unpleasantness recalls very visceral distressing memories of my drinking days.

I feel irritable and overwhelmed. Decidedly not myself. I'm struck by the unfairness of it, after quitting drinking haven't I gained the privilege never to be sick again? Shouldn't my daily reprieve from the obsession to drink extend to other more pedestrian illnesses?

Of course not. Everyone no matter what is sick occasionally, it is simply human, and the irascibility that sometimes accompanies a cold or flu is normal. No one is above or beyond weakness and it is self centered to think accomplishments or some degree of moral living makes you deserving of reward. Like with so many things you work through it, you do the best you can, you take care of yourself, and then you get better. That's life, maybe one of the more mundane irksome aspects of it but there it is.

It's jarring I guess, to be sick, because along with those old familiar physical feelings come old habits I'm trying to shake. Being short with people, shirking responsibilities, guilt. But even that is all just part of living, its all a process. You manage and navigate as best you can, make apologies where you need to, give what and when you can, and keep moving forward. That's progress. That's being an adult. It was foreign to me for a long time.

Iron Will

When I was in grade school one of my favorite movies was Disney's Iron Will. The movie's about a teen, Will Stoneman, in 1917 whose father dies in a dog sledding accident. In order to save the family farm Will enters a long and brutal dog-sled race. He overcomes exhaustion, cold, dangerous terrain, and attempts at sabotage to eventually win. It was incredibly inspiring and informative to my young self. Helped shape my ideas of dedication, courage, and perseverance. At the time I had no idea of what the application of will power would actually look like in my daily life.

The summer after 4th grade I got poison ivy at summer camp. I scratched and scratched, it spread, I had it all up and down my arms and legs, in between my fingers and toes, all over. It was truly torturous. It got infected. By the time school started my right leg was twice the size of my left. We went to the doctor and I got on steroids and antibiotics which knocked it out pretty quickly.

For ten years after that I got poison ivy every summer. I became intimate with the rash, lovingly familiar with that cloying itch. It was the most powerful physical discomfort I ever experienced. I cultivated the ability to endure it because I found if I scratched it at all it would spread like wildfire across my unsuspecting frame.

Posion ivy is worlds more intense than a mosquito bite. There were times I thought I would go crazy, my mind unable to process anything save the ever present and all encompassing itch. But through practice, through detachment, and a tempering of my mental fortitude I was able to stem the ivy effects each summer to various degrees of success.

Battling poison ivy, my yearly nemesis, was the first real personal challenge of my adolescences. The first time I discovered what will was and how to apply it. I wasn't Will Stoneman in a dog-sled race battling fatigue, frostbite, and precariously frozen rivers but I was in my own protracted skirmish with Mother Nature. I was ever vigilant at the numerous summer camps I went to(and eventually worked at) for that three-leafed red-stemed monster. And when the inevitable rash came I took the itch between my psychic teeth and bit down. I persevered.

Sundays Are For Cleaning

First I make coffee.
Then I sweep.
The bathroom through the hall to the bedroom, the living room, the second bedroom.
I make a neat little pile in the dining room. Sweep the dining room then the kitchen.
Use the dust pan to dispose of the collected filth.
I drink a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette.
If there are dishes I do them.
I wipe down the counters, tables, and bookshelves.
Water the plants.
Take out the trash.
Lastly, the bathroom.
I scrub the sink, toilet, and bathtub.
To conclude I wash myself, wiping any errant suds from the shower walls.

Everything has its purpose.
Everything has its place.

Confidence Of Youth

For a long time I thought I was invincible. I think that's normal for kids in their late teens and early twenties but I had that sense before then and long after. I've been in a lot of situations where I came away virtually unscathed. Car accidents, bike accidents, motorcycle accidents, fights, falls, cuts, burns, illness. No lasting damage, no broken bones, no real hurt. I did something real dumb today which made me realize that time in my life has passed.

I came home a couple hours ago and realized I had locked my keys in my apartment. I contacted my landlord but was told someone wouldn't be able to let me in for a couple hours. I figured, ok no biggie, maybe I can figure a way in while I wait.

There's an access door in the building to the roof and I have a balcony. I went up to the roof and looked over the edge, there's no real lip or anything, and my balcony was about 10-12 feet below. I swung my legs over the edge and thought. Didn't seem that far. I thought maybe I could dangle and cut the distance but there was really no place to grip. I distinctly remember the thought 'just do it' and I did. I slipped off the roof onto my balcony. I tumbled into a heap on my balcony after bruising my ankle. I almost said aloud "I'm too old for this shit." which I didn't because I thought that'd be dumb. I'm not old I'm 28. I limped inside found my keys and went about my day.

It was stupid and unnecessary. I'm not that badly hurt but it's an inconvenience. And I realized I am too old to be pulling stunts like that. My body certainly isn't deteriorating by any means but it doesn't have the bounce back capability that in once had. There's no need to risk but sometimes I find myself drawn to it.

Patience is something I still need to work on.

Care

Punam got her wisdom teeth taken out yesterday so I went over in the afternoon to keep her company for a while and get her anything she needed. It was nice taking care of her for a change. She's taken care of me physically and emotionally a disproportionate amount of our relationship. It's nice to give some back. We had lunch, watched 'Walk The Line' and talked. Or I talked most of the time and she tried to talk as much as she could which wasn't that much or that clear.

I remembered when I got my wisdom teeth out how miserable I was. The only thing that distracted me from it were movies and company.  So it was good to see Punam and provide whatever distraction I could.

It feels just as good doing something nice for someone than it does when someone does something nice for you.

It helps us both.