A reflection on these chaotic times

The warm lights from my Christmas tree and the instrumental music coming from my sound system accompany me tonight as I write the last blog entry for 2024. It's unnecessary to mention how difficult life can be. We all know it; we’ve all had tough times. Some people have it better than others, while some have had a journey where it seems like they've infuriated a Greek god. I feel like I'm somewhere in the middle.

In November of 2018 I woke up one morning struggling to breathe and I felt a sharp pain through my left trapezoid. At the time I used a Bi-Pap machine, it’s similar to those machines that keep people from snoring. The second I removed the mask, I couldn’t breathe. Both my mother and myself went into action. An ambulance was called and paramedics took me to the hospital where we discovered my left lung had spontaneously collapsed.

Emergency surgery was done by a Hungarian doctor. I was awake for the entire thing. The recovery took fifteen days and that’s just the physical part. I've never had anxiety nor did I understand it. After being discharged, every morning after I would wake up in absolute panic. There was no danger yet my body entered into "fight or flight" mode. That same year I got pneumonia near Christmas. To make matters worst, a nurse made a mistake that nearly killed me.

The ICU was understaffed because of the holidays and this one nurse was the only one working. She gave me too much oxygen and I lost consciousness. It’s like an overdose of oxygen and you go into a kind of come. My mother knows I don't want to be resuscitated under any circumstances and she honored my wishes and stopped the doctor from intubating me. Things got so bad they told her they were just wating for my heart to stop.

By some miracle or curse (depending on how you want to see things) I woke up. I returned home shortly after. The morning panic attacks continued for a long time. Months for sure. I never seeked help from anyone about them. I'm the kind of man who never asks for help, not out of pride but because every time I did as a child, no one cared. Now I just don't ask for help. I know I should but I've grown accustomed to figuring out things myself.

Anyway, the following May I had a small heart attack. I won't go into details about it. It sucked that’s the gist of it. From there there was nothing bad until the COVID pandemic shut the world down. As weird as it may sound, I really enjoyed the pandemic shutdown. My home was my tranquil little kingdom. It was just my mother, my cats, and me. I've always been a man who strives to achieve things in a peaceful manner. I owe that to my mother who despite having the immense responsibility of raising a child completely alone while working a full time job and providing my grandparents with food and anything else they neede, she made certain that the roof over my head was and still is a peaceful place. And I'll always admire and thank her for that.

The musical theme for HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE just started playing. I love how it masterfully captures the chaotic and cyclical nature of life. My most emotionally chaotic years started in 2021. That year there was a possibility of losing the house. 2022 my wheelchair malfunctioned causing me giant problems that sent me three times to the hospital. Thankfully the year was coming to an end on a relatively high note. I got a new wheelchair and I was nearly finished with my book.

A strange feeling lingered in my heart. A dull heaviness I knew too well. I hardly express my feelings out loud and not from a lack of support or a gender thing, I’ve just had better results if I keep my head down and continue working. I’m also not religious so I rarely pray. I only do it when my life is in danger. I know that sounds like I’m a selfish believer but I don’t really see God as most people do but that’s for a whole other post. So about two weeks before December 2023 ended, I was feeling darker than usual and I broke down. For some reason I let myself speak to the universe or God or whatever you believe in.

I went into full detail on what I believed I needed. I now know it’s not what I needed but rather what I wanted. I let my emotions flow through me without any restraint. Once I finished I went along with my day and I forgot about it a few days later. I volunteered a short time later to help a fellow writer with her book. As I read her work (which is phenomenal for a lack of better words) I started talking to her about the plot and characters. After a while we started talking about random things and who we are.

As I knew more about her I found her more interesting. Eventually I started having feelings for her and for reasons I still can’t quite comprehend, I told her. I expected the worst. I was expecting her to block me or insult me. I expected that because I’ve always been treated like that. Her response was that she felt similarly. I won’t go into details nor will I give a name out of respect to her privacy. Needless to say that I tried to get her heart. We texted daily for three months until I felt something change. I knew deep down what was happening but I didn’t want to accept it. There’s a saying in Spanish that translates to “The worst kind of blind person is the one that refuses to see.”

That’s what I had become. I tried to make something work when it was never going to work. I lowered my guard, I allowed myself to get wrapped up in the assumption that for the first time in my life I was no longer invincible as a man. I fell in love with my version of the perfect woman. And it all slipped through my fingers like sand. For months I felt devastated. I was in literal pain. I had never felt this way before. I wish her the best and I truly mean it. Her writing is some of the best I’ve read.

This year gave me a taste of what I wanted most for most of my life. Having it slip away broke me. This year was rough. It felt and continues to feel personal. I know that the universe isn’t deliberately trying to hurt me but the ego speaks. It shouts in us all from time to time. It isn’t quiet. Nor subtle. I’ve gotten good at rebuilding myself. I’m currently in the midst of the healing process. I know I’ll recover from this pain.

And now I leave you after ranting like a madman. The music has changed from instrumental to jazz. May your holiday season bring you whatever you need. And I raise my glass to 2025.