I even wound up being the antagonist in my own life story somehow. We all end up part of someone else’s narrative in the end. Often when I’m ‘in my head’ I’m more or less compiling the external sources of proof and trying to pit the threads of whatever’s left of my spark against them. It’s hard going through that rolodex of commentary and trying to accept it’s actually okay to have feelings, that it’s actually okay to have a bad day and struggle. How do you go through that same rolodex to ask for help or admit you’re hurting? When the shark eats your toe do you still go swimming? No. You go home, smoke a joint and try to pretend it didn’t happen again for as long as you can until it’s screaming so loud inside your fucking head it colours everything you feel and breathe because it mattered and it just hurt you once more. Why does everyone push you for trying and get angry when you don’t?

It wasn’t about work, it was about safety.

Sometimes it seems like I just want to put a firecracker in the ass of the elephant in the room, huh?

Towards the end of my former life as a fully functional adult I attended yet another call in one of the finer coffee establishments the fair city has to offer. Intoxicated, unresponsive, laying on the wheelchair ramp inside the doors. We wake him up. We have our ways. I pick up all the change he dropped and when I try handing it to him he suddenly wakes up a whole lot more and starts trying to wrestle me to the ground. I managed to stay upright and my 210 pounds pinned his drunken 140 or so against the wall, one arm across his chest, my other elbow in his throat. I stared him in the eyes and held him long past when I saw that first flicker.

All said the entire interaction was about 2 minutes. My partner had hit the panic button and we had 4 officers and an ALS crew before things got too far. Once I stood for a few seconds after the police had taken him I slowly started realizing that I had actually just physically threatened someone’s life. My stomach rolled a little. A different way than the usual booze-pill thing. It was a vibration of sorts. The sense of a cold, invisible constant quiver. As this was happening inside me I turned around and for the first time faced the full restaurant of about 2 dozen staff and customers who had all but stopped what they were doing and were quietly staring at me.

What do you think about when you’re in your head? Wordperfect documents and fries with that? Who would you pick to be on your team?

Until next time, recover staying!