Well, It really has been a while hasn't it? I found myself unable to sleep yet, in anticipation of tomorrow, and felt compelled to write. So here I am, trying desperately to remember what I last wrote about, what to include, and how to say what is pressing on my mind. In looking back, My last blog post was at the very end of August. three full months ago. As I re-read what I wrote that day, I am shocked at how much has happened.
I guess the most crucial thing to preface this with is that I had knee surgery less than a week after my last post. Funny to think now that the surgery has been one of the most interesting, eye opening, and painful experiences of my life. In saying this, and to preface for the rest of what may very well turn out to be yet another depressing post, (i am trying to not be so negative, and I hope to succeed. :) ) please realize that I write not to gain pity. More like I write to try and help both myself and any who read this realize and understand what has been happening in my life, my head, and my heart, and to gain understanding of who I am as a person, a being, a soul. With that said, I launch into my tale.
My surgery happened on a Monday morning. It was interesting for the fact that I had only been seeing the doctors about my injury, sustained during the production of Bye, Bye, Birdie that I was in over the summer, for about three weeks. I could have waited, and had the surgery done at a more free time in my schedule. I am glad that I didn't, for reasons that will soon become obvious. The surgery went of without a hitch, at least at that point. Side note of worth, I had finished moving out of my parents house the day before. I have been rooming with two of my Fraternity brothers(in case i have not mentioned that previously, I joined the Phi Delta Theta Fraternity on Campus back in the spring) since that weekend. This will be valuable information later. So instead of going home to my parents house, I went home to my new apartment in downtown SLC. There I rested, till i went to help my Fraternity with Rush Week, seeking to gain new brothers. Stupid in the extreme, but worth it, since I would not make it back to the house with any regularity for the rest of the semester.
With that behind me, I began to adjust to life as a disabled person, even if it be for a short time. I missed less a two days worth of classes total, including my dance classes, due to my surgery. I used a wheelchair to get around campus to my classes, and to work. Here is where the trouble really began. I recently crewed the University production of Hair, and Claude, one of the main characters, towards the end of the show, appears on stage, and know one can see him. He has become invisible. That is what I have felt like since my surgery. Invisible. While I was in the chair, It was as if i didn't exist. I got used to doing everything myself, from opening doors to wheeling around campus. I got help from the occasional stranger, but most of the time, I had to do it myself. This became very disconcerting. Some may ask, Why didn't you ask for help? In answer to your question, I did. At first, i asked only when I really needed it. My requests were met with much seeming apprehension, dislike, and general bother. After about two times of that, only dire need could get me to ask for help. It wasn't that I didn't want the help, just that I hate to be a bother, and so hoped that those who would volunteer would not have the same apprehension as the others did. What really happened was that I was ignored, for the most part. This started me down a chain of events that has led me down a twisted path indeed. It was the first stone in a pond that would magnify as the weeks went on.
I ended up missing every audition for the shows that occurred this semester, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing that i didn't hold anyone back. A curse, because that, plus the surgery itself, gave me social Leprosy. I often joked with myself that I had no crowd to join with, because I was not in a show, not gay, and not in Hair. This may not be understood, so i will explain. As i settled into life in a wheelchair, My entire existence opened up to me. Suddenly I had massive amounts of spare time. I had no where to go cause I couldn't go anywhere without assistance. It was at that time that I began to notice that everyone would disappear, and i would be left alone. It was the first time in my life that I have felt true abandonment. I was in a strange place, a new place, and had no one with which to help me adjust or escape. I would hear stories, from those around me, of activities, and things that had occurred, and yet, i heard about them after. I got used to hearing the phrase, "We wondered where you were".
As this continued, i found myself spiraling into a deep depression. I continued to go to class everyday, even the ones where i couldn't do anything. This proved as much a blessing of escape as a curse, for i sank deeper and deeper into my depression from my lack of ability to do the things that I loved.
And then there was the experience of roommates. It was my mission that I last had to live with someone in one room. Yes, I have an actual roommate, that sleeps in the same room as I. I like both of my roommates, that goes without saying. I care for them and their happiness, even if it isn't returned in kind. It was and still is a difficult transition. I am trying to learn as fast as I can to live with two people in one place, and to try and keep the piece. Even if i feel that i am not treated with the same respect as they treat each other, even if I am made to feel like a piece of crap who is a slob and lazy, i still work hard to keep the piece, never complaining, always trying to improve. Despite the hard times that are here, I still am able to proudly call this place home. It is mine, and i love it.
All of these forces combined against me. I felt abandoned, lost, alone, lonely, and forsaken by everything that I cared about and loved. Friends, co workers, god himself seemed to have left me by the wayside. I felt that I had no where to turn. I started letting it get to me, and it led me down a path of misery and pain, carelessness, and self destruction. I lost the desire to work out, to trust, to like myself, to believe in myself. For a time, I felt as if the world was against me, that I was a worthless piece of crap not deserving of attention, love, or aid. Time seemed to drag, and I was falling deeper and deeper into a hole that I had no hope of climbing out of.
Then life got busy. I still, despite all the troubled times, kept at school and work, trying to focus and work things out. The feelings never really went away, but I strove to not let it control my life completely, I threw myself into caring for other, trying to help and support them as often as i could. Most of the time, I was rewarded with nothing but more depression, as my attempts at uplifting and aiding were met with loathing, indignation, anger, and contempt. It seemed that I could do no right, that I was simply annoying, to everyone all the time. How often I wanted to give up, I cannot even begin to count, and that has continued even as recent as this last week. That has been the hardest thing to deal with, ironically enough. It literally feels like a slap in the face, or getting hit, which has happened unfortunately. it is, to me anyway, the deepest form of betrayal. Even if these were lashed out in anger, and were no supposed to be directed at me, trying to convince yourself of that reality is nigh impossible.
And then came Hair. It was an incredible experience. It was also one of the most challenging, the most difficult, and eye opening. The production itself was hard, mainly because we were short crewed, so we were all pulling more weight than normal. after all of it was done, I saw the cast congratulating each other on a good run, which they all deserved, because they were incredible. They brought it every night, and were great. I was proud to serve them. I just wish that I had been included in that celebration. I saw my fellow crewmates, even if it was just a hug and a great job, thank you. I was happy that they got that gift, and jealous that I wasn't included. It made me feel like old news.
That led me to a rather interesting and disheartening discovery. I was an attention hog. It hadn't dawned on me, or at least i had been denying that for some time, that it was the case. That was the first time when I actually admitted to myself that I really was an attention hog. Icing on a terrible cake gone wrong. Never before had I felt so dirty, so ugly, so unclean. i truly hated myself, I wanted to curl in a ball, and never come out again. Perhaps it was my saving grace that I continued to dwell on that, but I did, and i came to realize something else. I was an attention hog, but not the reason that I thought. I realized that it wasn't that i wanted everything to be about me, but more that I wanted to now that I was not invisible. I thought back to Susan Sarandon in Shall We Dance, when she is talking to the detective and he asks her why people get married. She says that it is because we all want someone to witness our lives. i take that a step farther. I have wanted people to recognize what part I had to play, I wanted to feel that I had enabled them in part to their success. So be it, that is what I feel, and heaven help me to keep it that way, and not let me go down that thorny path of self importance.
now, if you were thinking that this would all be gloom and doom, believe me I thought so too, it is not the case. Sometimes from our greatest trials we can gain some of the most valuable insight. I will share them with you in just a moment, for there is more to share, and much of this is good.
I started on my path to recovery, and made progress till about the beginning of October. Then I regressed in my progress some three weeks. it was a blow to me, for I was hoping to be on the mend. it was not to be. I suffered a complication, where I developed a piece of scar tissue where they had inserted the scope to do my surgery. A hard piece of tissue lodged in your knee is a painful thing, and still is plaguing me, thought through pt has been helping immensely. As i began on that road back to recovery, I was given the opportunity to check out the University Ballroom team. I fell back to my habits, and started to dance. It turned out to be a great thing, for they asked me to stay and perform with them. That is happening today, and It fills me with joy when I think of it. I have met some wonderful people, and get to do what I love again.
And now to the things that I have gained from this painful journey. A list, for clarity:
1. Even though I have been through the closest thing to hell that I have yet encountered, I am still here, fighting tooth and nail to stay above the water. So far, I have succeeded.
2. Even though i have my issues with it, I can still call my apartment home, and my roommates family.
3. I can still love, care, and serve those who don't care one way or the other.
4. i still have my talents, even when they are not at 100% capability.
5. recovery is a slow process, but every step counts.
6. I am not a bad person, and I have good intentions. Even if I may be selfish at times, I care for others even in those times.
These lessons are what have kept me afloat. Even as I struggle to pull myself from the self-destructive patters that I have put myself into, I know that i will, slowly and surely. It may take a long time, but it will happen. I am constantly aided by those around me, the friends that cheer me with a thoughtful chat, a program from a show, or a simple nice to see you. it is those times that make these troubles lighter, and give more hope that can possibly be known. Karma, at least as I believe, is a very real thing, and I live every day, helping those who I love and care about, hoping to have the kindness returned, one day. regardless of whether it actually happens, i know that I will continue to live as I have, helping all that I can, in any way that I can. May we all.
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving. :)
