Allow The Chief to pull his Stradivarius from behind the
toilet paper and bathroom cleaning supplies and attempt whole-heartedly to
extract a bit of sympathy from you. This
past Monday, October 21, I awoke feeling disoriented. I can’t explain it exactly, but I simply
felt…weird. Yes, I realize you folks
have come to expect that from me, especially since I’m a writer, and a troubled
mindset is one of the drawbacks of the creative spirit.
I’ve encountered this sensation before – only once
previously, though. But, on this past
Monday, it felt more intense and painful.
I kept feeling that anything and everything I did – no matter how small
or mundane – wasn’t right. I couldn’t
open a door in the right way. I couldn’t
even pick up a piece of trash the right way.
I mean, EVERYTHING I did wasn’t right.
I keep thinking it might be related to my allergies. The summer to fall transition is almost always
the worst for me. But, every few years, I
have a period like now, where it hits harder than freight train striking a
vehicle stuck on the tracks. Simple over-the-counter
and / or home-based remedies won’t help.
I have to visit my family doctor and get some high-caliber, prescribed
medicine. This year, he gave me
three. Feeling tired and lethargic comes
with the territory. I’ve always said my
worst allergies follow the hurricane season in the Atlantic / Caribbean basin. And, this time around, the storm was a
I’m pretty much over all that mess now. But…that overwhelming disoriented feeling. Is that related to my allergies and / or the
prescribed medicines? I know some
high-octane medicines have a myriad of potential side effects. In fact, reading the list of side effects – diarrhea,
fatigue, nausea – makes me wonder if they’re worth the trouble. Let’s see, what do I prefer? A runny nose or a runny ass? Too many choices! Like trying to find a book to read while
Then again, are my years of frequent alcohol consumption finally
coming back to haunt me, like the fact I never attended a high school
dance? I consider myself a recovering
alcoholic, but I still haven’t given it up permanently. Smoking, yes, but I can’t resist a good
screwdriver or wine cooler! I just watch
Perhaps, this is what life is like headed towards age 60 –
meaning the seventh decade of my existence.
As a youth, I recall my parents – mainly my mother – opining that life
begins at 40. At that time, people,
indeed, seemed to have reached the apex of happiness with family, career,
etc. Now, I hear that 50 is the new
40. Medical advances have made it more
likely people will live into their 80s and 90s.
Thus, 50 really is becoming middle age for many Americans.
I just don’t know.
But I feel friends and family are likely to scoff at me, if I mention
aloud that I’m feeling incredibly disoriented.
‘So, what’s new?’ they might say.
‘Tell me something I DON’T know!’
Okay, okay! You don’t have to rub
it in, like sandpaper mistaken for…well, toilet paper.
I’m only putting this out there – to this audience, my
faithful followers – because I’m not really ashamed of it. It’s just frustrating and annoying. Okay, it pisses me off! It interferes with my daily activities. I can’t even work on my creative
writing. That disoriented sensation
blocks my artistic mind from producing anything. So, I just go to sleep.
As with the last time this happened, I realized I just
needed to stop trying so hard to understand it and merely take a shower and
plunge into my bed with its 10-year-old mattress. I’m curious to know, however, what you folks
think. Has this happened to you and, if so,
how did you deal with it? Remember, if
you don’t take this seriously, we’ll hear about more drama from the British royal
Image: Gary Larson, “The Far Side”