About Now and Then and Stress

Post 225:

            There’s a story to life. Then there’s the stuff that requires exclamation marks. I remember the moment I realized it was time to start taking care of myself. Not the day, or exactly how old I was, but the moment. My legs went floppy. Couldn’t breathe. There was a dizziness in my head and a pain in my chest and arms that, had I the ability to process it, would’ve freaked me way the hell out. Exclamatory sentences would’ve been flying all over the room—I just couldn’t find the air to get them out.

            It was after a day of working my 9 to 5. At that time in my life I was working a job type job and playing a lot of nights with my band. Running ragged, as one tends to do, before the sweet bird of youth has flown.

            The thing happened after a run. I was working out quite a bit back then (that should tell you this story is old) and had done a rehearsal somewhere in there.

            Anyway, after I get myself back together, I go to the clinic. Explain as best I can, but it’s hard, because some of these sensations were entirely new.

            And as a worrier of all things that merit worry and all things that don’t, I figured it was stroke (mild) or a heart attack (mild) or that I was dying (less mild).

            After the medical professionals did their song and dance, they told me it was nothing that dramatic. Maybe a little dehydration and maybe a lot of stress. They asked me how I was feeling about things.

            Now this pissed me off. I’m coming in with palpitations and perspirations and these mopes were laying it off like it was my fault. That’s how it felt anyway. How I took it.

            I took it like that because I was in my mid-twenties; this caused me to falsely think that I knew things, and that feelings or stress couldn’t have a deleterious effect on the body.

            Fact is, there was a lot going on, and it got to be too much. But too much is pretty much what being an adult with any aspirations is, right?

            Right. But let’s just make a rule. If being an adult with aspirations has you collapsing like a ninety year-old whose cane just broke, some changes need to be made. If aspirations are causing palpitations and perspirations…you get the picture.

            This is still a game I’m a novice at. Dealing with the here and now, and working toward then.

            And not collapsing.

            And let no man accuse me of being the present picture of health. But I’m on my feet. I can breathe. The boat’s still rocking back and forth, but I think it’ll stay afloat for awhile.

            Stress is okay. It’s perfectly natural. But when it makes your arm start to tingle, raise it and ask for some help. And maybe a nap. Naps are good. Cheers. See you after.