Crushing Blow IV: You Don't Know Where I've Been Lou, You Don't Know Where I've Been

in some sick way i feel bad when i don't post, i like to imagine legions in the great cyber no where clinging to my words. huddled masses waiting for the new land i provide. delusion and i know it. Aside from the MPD of the few readers i have, i feel like what i write is only read by a select few. so i often feel like i am writing for them. and most of them - unlike the title of this post would suggest - Know where i have been. for those of you who don't i only have these words: buckle up.

Crushing Blow IV - The Failure of self.

monday was the normal bad - violent streams of electricity, purging fires of pain, you know, the normal stuff for me when there is a bad day. i don't go to work, i hide from contact on the right side of my face. monday night as i walk down the stairs of my split level i misjudge how much wall exists at the bottom of the stairs. it is dark and i am thinking the staircase ends at the wall so i am believing i am all clear to take a right turn at the bottom of the steps.

i have disproved existentialism. i believed there was no wall. but let me tell you, when i turned my face into the 18" of drywall, wood, and paint it was real whether or not i could believe or hope it away. in fact not only was it a wall but my personal teleporter. as soon as my face hit the wall it became a doorway to a universe where only pain and darkness exists.

i immediately feel to the ground blind and screaming. i cry, cowered into the fetal position, the unseen slamming an electric chair into my face. my dogs are going wild because all they know is i have been transformed. i am no longer the one who loves them, who feeds them, who walks them, i am an animal. a wounded beast, something to be growled at. i am something that is growling.

when i regain enough consciousness to crawl to the bathroom, i inch my way along the carpet and supplant the pain inspired nausea and tears into the toilet. i have been to another place. forced transcendental meditation. in short, this was, by far, the worst pain i have ever felt. i have been broken, shot, burned, dislocated, tortured and none touch this. i thought i was a tough man but i am not. 18" of wall made me less than whole. it shook my core. that little bit of material taught me a lesson i had long lost my touch and taste for - i am incomplete.

needless to say i didn't go to work all of last week. i cowered from wind, from touch, from everything. i tried to gut it out like i have been taught but i couldn't make it. i broke and called the doc on thursday and she was unhappy that i had waited. i was in her office that afternoon, face cold packed with anaglesiac and a shot of marcaine into the nerve. my doc wants me out of the unit where i work. talking all day slays me. not to mention the fact i am losing it a bit right now. granted i have never thought of my self as completely sane. i have always felt i am in a place where everyone else gets to except that i live there. my emotion is always extreme, rarely am i not thinking or twitching away. i burn at both ends and this horrible condition called trigeminal neuralgia rips away most of the trappings of normalcy i maintain to keep from scaring other people. i find myself using words with acquaintances i normally save only for friends and enemies. for those who know me they know i keep the cards close to my chest but lately i can not. i am the walking wounded and i am not hiding with bandages, i am bleeding on my desk, bleeding on your desk.

the real fear of the week though is friday night. for fairness to all involved i will not speak of it all here. i can keep some cards close still and i chose to do that now with these. i will say this though, i thought that i would break this weekend. i thought i would be in prison by saturday afternoon and i thought i would have been dead by sunday morning. i am not. i am most assuredly alive and eternally grateful to the One who taught me how to breath under pressure. how to sweat drops of blood and how to drink the cup that's mine.

Blessed are you, One, king of the suffering, blessed are you for teaching me the way of patience, forgive me my pride and thinking i run with out you as my source. continue to teach me your way of Suffering. teach me your way of healing. One, you have got my full and undivided attention. i am finally inline with purpose. red stubbled and gaunt i am here only for you. teach me to love, make me beyond as you are but make me human still.