 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| IT'S NOT EASY I have those bad days too. |
Readers, what follows will come as a surprise to some of you. Those of you who
know me well won’t find it so shocking. Still more who know me personally will wonder
why I have not talked about this sooner. Well, it is time.
Many of you look to me for inspiration. Frankly, I am not worthy at times. You
wonder how it is I stay so positive and keep pushing myself in the darkest of times.
You ask my secret, and I have shared those words with you all. The thing is, I must
confess, I am not always so positive. Like many of you, I have days it seems I just
can’t go on.
Many days I open my eyes, go over the list of what I must do that day, and think to
myself, “I can’t do this.” There are times I am so sick and I hurt so very much that I
can’t face the world. There are days I roll over, try to move, and am crippled from the
pain.
Over the last two years I have chosen misery at a few times. I preach that “misery is
optional” which it truly is. But I have learned that there are some days I have to let
myself feel that misery, and grieve for what I miss.
But, those same days when I have to go out to fulfill some commitment or other, I
suck it up and put on the Sponge Daddy face. I have felt over these years that since
people admire that part of me, and look to that, I have a duty to show them all that
nothing can get me down. Days that my body is screaming and my heart is breaking,
I still do all I can to show that brave jovial face you all look to. Keeping up that façade
takes all I have left. As soon as I am home and no one can see me, I collapse.
The song “Superman” by Five for Fighting has been one of my personal favorites for
a while. I will be quoting it often in this writing. Such as, “I wish that I could cry, fall
upon my knees…” There are days I wish I could. But I don’t allow myself to show
that emotional pain in public. My ex-wife used to rail on me, that maybe if people saw
that things were getting to me, they would not ask so much. I have to admit, she was
right.
My friends, there are times when I look at the pile of pills that keep me alive and I just
do not wish to take them any more. Yet for my kids, and those that love me, I wash
them down. There are days that I wish would be the last day of my life, that the pain
has become unbearable. There are days that I just feel that I cannot go on. Many
days I have felt that since all I can do is survive the day, tomorrow could be the same,
I just do not wish to survive the day, and I pray that God would get it over with and
finish the inevitable. There are days that I say “I just can’t play this game called LIFE
any more.”
Today is one of those days. Frankly, there have been quite a few of them as of late.
Ever since I started trying to break the chains that have bound me to certain
behaviors, I have been dealing with emotional pain on a whole new level.
We recently had the death of my brother-in-law. Even though I had difficulty getting
about, I sucked it up to attend the funeral, for my sister. Of course there were people
there I had not seen since the last major family catastrophe. Seeing some of them
made me relive old painful things. Seeing others made me realize that while they
claim to care about yours truly, I would probably not see them until the next funeral or
hear from them except holidays and the like.
Ironically though I let it be known that I had to go home and rest, I was still pressured
to attend a dinner after the service. Ah, there it is again…that link in my chain.
Those who claim to care throw that concern out when they have needs of their own,
don’t they?
I digress, I apologize.
Readers, from time to time you all may see me being weak. I may even allow myself
to look angry and sad, and let you know that that day, it is just too much. Today is
one of those days.
I have to go coach the high school kids today, no matter how I feel. My word is my
word. I have to let someone borrow my old DJ equipment, and I will. I have to bowl
tonight on our league. And I will. But if the pain and sickness get to me, I will let it
show this time. From now on, when it does get to me, I will let it show.
What changed my mind, you ask? Why on earth am I deciding now to let the misery
inside of me show when I need to. Several reasons, really. For one, I think perhaps
people might stop asking so many favors of me if they truly saw how bad I felt.
Another, I think my babies need to see daddy’s bad days, see that I am human, but
still manage to go on.
The biggest reason though, is my assistant Jamie. She and my sister Deanna have
been looking after me as best as they can. Jamie, as you know, has the same illness
and suffers many of the same pains that I do. She has most of the childhood issues
that I do. She tells me time and time again that I am her hero, that I was her
inspiration for fighting the disease when she felt so helpless. She tells me that I was
the reason she did not kill herself over a year ago when her life fell apart. She tells
me that my quiet strength when she was in the hospital helped her stay calm and
make rational decisions about her treatment. I used to like the hero thing, but I am
not worthy of it, from anyone.
A few days ago we sat in my office after another physically bad day. My kidneys
have been giving me major problems on top of the other crap I am dealing with on a
daily basis. I sat and confessed to her that I just could not face another day like that
one, that it was just too much. She was surprised that I was being miserable. I laid it
all out, the same words I spoke here earlier, about the duty to appear happy, no
matter what.
She played a song for me then. “Superman.” I sat in my chair as she sang those
words to me. She lifted up my chin as it came to the line, “Even heroes have the
right to bleed.” And yes, it happened….
I cried.
Be well,
Sponge
12/21/2006
know me well won’t find it so shocking. Still more who know me personally will wonder
why I have not talked about this sooner. Well, it is time.
Many of you look to me for inspiration. Frankly, I am not worthy at times. You
wonder how it is I stay so positive and keep pushing myself in the darkest of times.
You ask my secret, and I have shared those words with you all. The thing is, I must
confess, I am not always so positive. Like many of you, I have days it seems I just
can’t go on.
Many days I open my eyes, go over the list of what I must do that day, and think to
myself, “I can’t do this.” There are times I am so sick and I hurt so very much that I
can’t face the world. There are days I roll over, try to move, and am crippled from the
pain.
Over the last two years I have chosen misery at a few times. I preach that “misery is
optional” which it truly is. But I have learned that there are some days I have to let
myself feel that misery, and grieve for what I miss.
But, those same days when I have to go out to fulfill some commitment or other, I
suck it up and put on the Sponge Daddy face. I have felt over these years that since
people admire that part of me, and look to that, I have a duty to show them all that
nothing can get me down. Days that my body is screaming and my heart is breaking,
I still do all I can to show that brave jovial face you all look to. Keeping up that façade
takes all I have left. As soon as I am home and no one can see me, I collapse.
The song “Superman” by Five for Fighting has been one of my personal favorites for
a while. I will be quoting it often in this writing. Such as, “I wish that I could cry, fall
upon my knees…” There are days I wish I could. But I don’t allow myself to show
that emotional pain in public. My ex-wife used to rail on me, that maybe if people saw
that things were getting to me, they would not ask so much. I have to admit, she was
right.
My friends, there are times when I look at the pile of pills that keep me alive and I just
do not wish to take them any more. Yet for my kids, and those that love me, I wash
them down. There are days that I wish would be the last day of my life, that the pain
has become unbearable. There are days that I just feel that I cannot go on. Many
days I have felt that since all I can do is survive the day, tomorrow could be the same,
I just do not wish to survive the day, and I pray that God would get it over with and
finish the inevitable. There are days that I say “I just can’t play this game called LIFE
any more.”
Today is one of those days. Frankly, there have been quite a few of them as of late.
Ever since I started trying to break the chains that have bound me to certain
behaviors, I have been dealing with emotional pain on a whole new level.
We recently had the death of my brother-in-law. Even though I had difficulty getting
about, I sucked it up to attend the funeral, for my sister. Of course there were people
there I had not seen since the last major family catastrophe. Seeing some of them
made me relive old painful things. Seeing others made me realize that while they
claim to care about yours truly, I would probably not see them until the next funeral or
hear from them except holidays and the like.
Ironically though I let it be known that I had to go home and rest, I was still pressured
to attend a dinner after the service. Ah, there it is again…that link in my chain.
Those who claim to care throw that concern out when they have needs of their own,
don’t they?
I digress, I apologize.
Readers, from time to time you all may see me being weak. I may even allow myself
to look angry and sad, and let you know that that day, it is just too much. Today is
one of those days.
I have to go coach the high school kids today, no matter how I feel. My word is my
word. I have to let someone borrow my old DJ equipment, and I will. I have to bowl
tonight on our league. And I will. But if the pain and sickness get to me, I will let it
show this time. From now on, when it does get to me, I will let it show.
What changed my mind, you ask? Why on earth am I deciding now to let the misery
inside of me show when I need to. Several reasons, really. For one, I think perhaps
people might stop asking so many favors of me if they truly saw how bad I felt.
Another, I think my babies need to see daddy’s bad days, see that I am human, but
still manage to go on.
The biggest reason though, is my assistant Jamie. She and my sister Deanna have
been looking after me as best as they can. Jamie, as you know, has the same illness
and suffers many of the same pains that I do. She has most of the childhood issues
that I do. She tells me time and time again that I am her hero, that I was her
inspiration for fighting the disease when she felt so helpless. She tells me that I was
the reason she did not kill herself over a year ago when her life fell apart. She tells
me that my quiet strength when she was in the hospital helped her stay calm and
make rational decisions about her treatment. I used to like the hero thing, but I am
not worthy of it, from anyone.
A few days ago we sat in my office after another physically bad day. My kidneys
have been giving me major problems on top of the other crap I am dealing with on a
daily basis. I sat and confessed to her that I just could not face another day like that
one, that it was just too much. She was surprised that I was being miserable. I laid it
all out, the same words I spoke here earlier, about the duty to appear happy, no
matter what.
She played a song for me then. “Superman.” I sat in my chair as she sang those
words to me. She lifted up my chin as it came to the line, “Even heroes have the
right to bleed.” And yes, it happened….
I cried.
Be well,
Sponge
12/21/2006
| trying to cope at Bernheim Forrest |