Drain and Seal

Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t here. Sometimes, I wish you weren’t either.

See, there’s some things that are difficult to sugarcoat. On paper, my tumor has only affected some of my motor skills, mainly those on the right side of my body. But the joke is that I’ve had poor coordination all my life and the harsh reality is that every aspect of my life has been affected, way more than just my equilibrium.

It’s interesting because these type of challenges are so individual. We’ve all got different symptoms. We’ve all got different reactions. We’ve all got different triggers. And we’ve all got our own methods and manners that curb our symptoms. It’s a completely different experience for each of us.

It might be totally invisible and constrained to your own mind. And even then, this is its own challenge. It’s difficult (and mostly futile) to try and justify any sense of dread when your outward self is ok.

I understand. I get it. I know some of why it’s difficult. And though it sucks, i’ve learned to try and tune it out. I’ve forced myself think that most people mean well. Even though they don’t know what they’re talking about. Even though their advice is terrible. Even though they’re sometimes insulting and pretty inconsiderate.

But i’ve got to remind myself that it’s my life. My truth.

Not theirs, not yours.

And you’ve got to remind yourself that It’s your life. Your truth.

Not mine, Not theirs.

Remember that half of what people say and do is wrong, and that the other half is probably much worse. That’s ok. We all say and do things that are poorly thought out.

Just play nice, mean well, and do as you will.

(But maybe stop doing that one thing).

Guatemala, Oct ‘22

“Ahora si puedo ver porque le llaman ‘el país de la eterna primavera’”

Cadillac. Pink. Tomato.

I’d love to say that I’ve been out on some grand tour and too busy to keep up with all of life’s regular responsibilities. Or that I found a passion that took up all my time, effort, and energy.

But I haven’t and I didn’t. I really haven’t been doing much of much.

I have however, done some thinking (perhaps too much) and convincing myself (perhaps too little) that doing something doesn’t mean that I must be doing it successfully. 

It just means that I should be doing it. That I should be present, even at times when I don’t want to. That I should be trying, and trying well.

Because time, effort, and care are apparent.

Success? Well, that’s subjective.

So when things don’t turn out how I’ve envisioned them (which happens more often than not), I have to remind myself that im still doing it and that im still trying. That my effort is still there. That despite it not materializing how I imagined, I can still feel the devotion.

And hey, it’s only been a few years since my diagnosis, but I still remember the three words. It’s an oddball group of words to test someone’s memory, for sure,

but it’s still my subjective success.