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Some call me a “proud” man. They are right. Some might say I have a huge
ego. Those people are very wrong. There is a significant difference between
pride and ego/self-esteem. To me pride is expressed in one’s actions, like
taking pride in doing a good job, or defending one’s honor. Self-esteem is
waking up in the morning being comfortable with everything about yourself and
loving yourself. Readers, I don’t mind admitting that I am a proud man. I do
mind admitting that I am seriously deficient in self-esteem. These two factors
are what led to my recent hospital stay.
There is a reason I am on disability for the fourth time. Even more important is
that there is a reason I did not just stay on disability from the beginning. I am a
proud man. But, I have no ego. Sadly, my lack of ego pushes me to find
something redeeming about myself. Therefore I have tended to be a work-a-
holic. Since I don’t like most of the things about myself, I tend to throw myself
full force into some work. I have this need to know I did a good job. To make a
point, when I was in college I was a full time student AND worked 60 hours a
week. When I was a manager for a fast food chain I was doing 90 hour weeks
until I collapsed. All because of a lot of pride, and no ego.
I can’t just go to a bowling alley and bowl one game, it has to be until I am
exhausted. I can’t just volunteer one day a week. Many people are amazed
and motivated by how hard I push myself. To be honest, I see little to admire
about that at the moment. Realizing that it was a major character flaw on my
part that I had a NEED to push, well, that was a slap in the face.
Most of you know I put in a few hours a week at Bullitt Bowl. I enjoy schmoozing
with the customers and helping people fall in love with this great sport of mine.
Well, about two months ago there was a management change here. In fact out
of 14 employees, 9 plus the manager quit. I have known Jessica (the new
manager) since she was little. She was in a situation where there was no one
left who knew how to work the snack bar nor our computer system. I told her I
would help her out, as much as I could, until she had others trained.
Six weeks later I was exhausted. For it seemed as soon as we got people in
place and ready, another would quit, or something would happen. For six
weeks I had been there every day. (Keep in mind that I had just finished moving
shortly before this happened).
Most of you know that Crohn’s has caused me to have vision problems.
Sometimes one eye will not focus, causing me to have bad headaches. They
were getting progressively worse. It was to the point where it felt like two
railroad spikes were sticking in my skull. I just took extra medicine and went on
my way.
I really didn’t pay much attention to the tingling in my leg. It had come and gone
before. A few Sundays ago I was at the center as usual, making sure the next
league had its paperwork ready. My friend and fellow PBA member Troy
Menges was there having a party for his son. I went to get up from my chair and
noticed that my leg felt asleep. It didn’t get better. Within an hour I was being
carried out as my leg would no longer hold me up. It simply would not obey the
commands I gave it, nor could I feel it.
I thought it was simply lack of good sleep, so I took two sleeping pills and had
myself a good snore fest. The next day, another league (two in fact) so I went in
to make sure everything would go well. I was limping badly. Soon, my arm was
useless as well. Within an hour, the employees ganged up on me and made me
go home.
Jamie, who works at Bullitt Bowl since the change, called my beloved doctor
Heine and ordered me to the ER. He was afraid, as was everyone else, that I
had a stroke. My friend and caddie, Thad Bewley drove me to the ER, and by
the time I got there the left side of my face was going numb. The pain in my
skull was awful.
I am not afraid of death, but I am afraid of being crippled. It was very frightening
sitting there, the neurologist telling me to squeeze, the right side working fine.
The left barely managing to circle around his finger. There I was screaming at
my left side to work, and it simply would not listen.
The good news is that I did NOT have a stroke. What happened is something
they called hemiplegia. Apparently severe migraines can cause temporary
paralysis, like a stroke. My scans were all clear. I have a good brain, well,
crazy, but the blood vessels are all good.
The bad news is that this condition can return every time I get a severe
headache. I have had blacklights put in my apartment. The one window is now
painted over. The less light, the less of a headache I will have.
Soon I am going to get some new glasses. I will be getting some rather
expensive prescription bifocal sunglasses-the kind that have shade above and
beside the lenses, to block out almost all light. Hopefully this will help.
There is more good news. Although I was still limping when they sent me home
last week, I swore I would be bowling on my birthday. Last Thursday I dragged
my left foot to league and bowled 3 games. It took me a bit to adjust my timing
and adapt to bad balance, but the third game I shot 255.
Meanwhile the whole center was patting me on the back for pushing myself. If
they only knew that my determination is not just an asset, but a flaw.
I asked someone recently to name my best characteristic, and they said my
determination. I asked them my greatest flaw, and the answer was the same,
my determination. All too often I push myself farther than a healthy person
would, and I and those around me pay the price.
What was hard to swallow was the knowledge that my pride was indeed a flaw.
What was worse was realizing the reason for it.
When you all see me out there throwing 10, 15, 20 games at a time and want to
admire me for my drive, please don’t. Realize what I did as I lay in one of the
scanning machines at the hospital. I have been trying to convince a man that
has been dead for 26 years that I am not in fact a lazy, fat, little bastard. For
years those words have rang in my ears.
My ego is my responsibility. His words stopped being spoken a long time ago. I
have been trying in vain to win a dead man’s approval for far too long. His
words in my head won’t be drowned out by the crashing of bowling pins. Nor will
any accolades change his opinion. He is gone, I can never get that approval
now.
Be quiet Dad; rest in peace, but get those and the other cruel words out of my
head. I will be bowling somewhere this November the Tenth, my “impossible
birthday.” But I will be blowing the pins out of the rack for ME now. For ME, and
others who have given up. The only thing I am giving up is trying to change
your mind, Dad. Instead, Sponge Daddy will be changing his own mind.
I don’t need anyone to tell me I am no longer a fat, lazy bastard. While the latter
will always be true, I am too damn skinny and too damn hyper to ever be called
the other.
I am making it to the foul line this November the Tenth. For me. And for all of
you.
Be well,
Sponge
10/16/2006
ego. Those people are very wrong. There is a significant difference between
pride and ego/self-esteem. To me pride is expressed in one’s actions, like
taking pride in doing a good job, or defending one’s honor. Self-esteem is
waking up in the morning being comfortable with everything about yourself and
loving yourself. Readers, I don’t mind admitting that I am a proud man. I do
mind admitting that I am seriously deficient in self-esteem. These two factors
are what led to my recent hospital stay.
There is a reason I am on disability for the fourth time. Even more important is
that there is a reason I did not just stay on disability from the beginning. I am a
proud man. But, I have no ego. Sadly, my lack of ego pushes me to find
something redeeming about myself. Therefore I have tended to be a work-a-
holic. Since I don’t like most of the things about myself, I tend to throw myself
full force into some work. I have this need to know I did a good job. To make a
point, when I was in college I was a full time student AND worked 60 hours a
week. When I was a manager for a fast food chain I was doing 90 hour weeks
until I collapsed. All because of a lot of pride, and no ego.
I can’t just go to a bowling alley and bowl one game, it has to be until I am
exhausted. I can’t just volunteer one day a week. Many people are amazed
and motivated by how hard I push myself. To be honest, I see little to admire
about that at the moment. Realizing that it was a major character flaw on my
part that I had a NEED to push, well, that was a slap in the face.
Most of you know I put in a few hours a week at Bullitt Bowl. I enjoy schmoozing
with the customers and helping people fall in love with this great sport of mine.
Well, about two months ago there was a management change here. In fact out
of 14 employees, 9 plus the manager quit. I have known Jessica (the new
manager) since she was little. She was in a situation where there was no one
left who knew how to work the snack bar nor our computer system. I told her I
would help her out, as much as I could, until she had others trained.
Six weeks later I was exhausted. For it seemed as soon as we got people in
place and ready, another would quit, or something would happen. For six
weeks I had been there every day. (Keep in mind that I had just finished moving
shortly before this happened).
Most of you know that Crohn’s has caused me to have vision problems.
Sometimes one eye will not focus, causing me to have bad headaches. They
were getting progressively worse. It was to the point where it felt like two
railroad spikes were sticking in my skull. I just took extra medicine and went on
my way.
I really didn’t pay much attention to the tingling in my leg. It had come and gone
before. A few Sundays ago I was at the center as usual, making sure the next
league had its paperwork ready. My friend and fellow PBA member Troy
Menges was there having a party for his son. I went to get up from my chair and
noticed that my leg felt asleep. It didn’t get better. Within an hour I was being
carried out as my leg would no longer hold me up. It simply would not obey the
commands I gave it, nor could I feel it.
I thought it was simply lack of good sleep, so I took two sleeping pills and had
myself a good snore fest. The next day, another league (two in fact) so I went in
to make sure everything would go well. I was limping badly. Soon, my arm was
useless as well. Within an hour, the employees ganged up on me and made me
go home.
Jamie, who works at Bullitt Bowl since the change, called my beloved doctor
Heine and ordered me to the ER. He was afraid, as was everyone else, that I
had a stroke. My friend and caddie, Thad Bewley drove me to the ER, and by
the time I got there the left side of my face was going numb. The pain in my
skull was awful.
I am not afraid of death, but I am afraid of being crippled. It was very frightening
sitting there, the neurologist telling me to squeeze, the right side working fine.
The left barely managing to circle around his finger. There I was screaming at
my left side to work, and it simply would not listen.
The good news is that I did NOT have a stroke. What happened is something
they called hemiplegia. Apparently severe migraines can cause temporary
paralysis, like a stroke. My scans were all clear. I have a good brain, well,
crazy, but the blood vessels are all good.
The bad news is that this condition can return every time I get a severe
headache. I have had blacklights put in my apartment. The one window is now
painted over. The less light, the less of a headache I will have.
Soon I am going to get some new glasses. I will be getting some rather
expensive prescription bifocal sunglasses-the kind that have shade above and
beside the lenses, to block out almost all light. Hopefully this will help.
There is more good news. Although I was still limping when they sent me home
last week, I swore I would be bowling on my birthday. Last Thursday I dragged
my left foot to league and bowled 3 games. It took me a bit to adjust my timing
and adapt to bad balance, but the third game I shot 255.
Meanwhile the whole center was patting me on the back for pushing myself. If
they only knew that my determination is not just an asset, but a flaw.
I asked someone recently to name my best characteristic, and they said my
determination. I asked them my greatest flaw, and the answer was the same,
my determination. All too often I push myself farther than a healthy person
would, and I and those around me pay the price.
What was hard to swallow was the knowledge that my pride was indeed a flaw.
What was worse was realizing the reason for it.
When you all see me out there throwing 10, 15, 20 games at a time and want to
admire me for my drive, please don’t. Realize what I did as I lay in one of the
scanning machines at the hospital. I have been trying to convince a man that
has been dead for 26 years that I am not in fact a lazy, fat, little bastard. For
years those words have rang in my ears.
My ego is my responsibility. His words stopped being spoken a long time ago. I
have been trying in vain to win a dead man’s approval for far too long. His
words in my head won’t be drowned out by the crashing of bowling pins. Nor will
any accolades change his opinion. He is gone, I can never get that approval
now.
Be quiet Dad; rest in peace, but get those and the other cruel words out of my
head. I will be bowling somewhere this November the Tenth, my “impossible
birthday.” But I will be blowing the pins out of the rack for ME now. For ME, and
others who have given up. The only thing I am giving up is trying to change
your mind, Dad. Instead, Sponge Daddy will be changing his own mind.
I don’t need anyone to tell me I am no longer a fat, lazy bastard. While the latter
will always be true, I am too damn skinny and too damn hyper to ever be called
the other.
I am making it to the foul line this November the Tenth. For me. And for all of
you.
Be well,
Sponge
10/16/2006
| ASSET? A strength can also be a weakness |