The Texas showers and dreary days have me feelin’ leary to leave the house. Yesterday, I had a vertigo episode like none other to date. Not long in nature but brutal to say the least. The bottom fell out from the earth beneath me and I was swallowed up and then lurched upside down, being uprighted seconds after my little “trip.” All I could do was holler for Stuart. It isn’t very often that I hear concern in his voice, as he has become a pro at all things wonky, but I heard it yesterday. He just grabbed my hand and held on until I could open my eyes again. The rest of the afternoon was a wash. I’m blaming the Texas weather. Keeping the other culprit in the recesses of my mind.
The last episode I experienced was at a concert last Friday night. For a brief moment, my world shifted to that ever familiar position, leaving me anxious after. Me, wondering if anyone noticed. If I walked, would I look drunk? Actually, I guess my drunken stagger wouldn’t have been too much out of the ordinary, being as I was at a country music concert at a location called The Redneck Country Club. I had to laugh on cue when others laughed at Johnny Lee’s jokes, not being able to make them out myself as my ears were so full of pressure.
Whenever I experience a vertigo attack, I typically throw a party, a pity party that is, myself, the guest of honor. Yesterday was no different.
This “party” can last anywhere from a few minutes to days. This one is lasting a little longer, as the dreary Texas weather lingers, wearing out its’ welcome. An unstable barometric pressure does not a good time make, for a wonky girl like myself.
As the barometer passes judgment on me for the next few days, I’m met with much time to ponder. My ponderin’ can go one of two ways. Woe is me or WHOA is me!
I chose WHOA is me.
I never expected my dash to curve. I’m pretty sure no one ever does. I never thought I would be faced with a reinvention of sorts. Sure, I knew that I was wonky and said wonkiness would prove to wreak havoc at times but to impact me so, to the point of reinventing, Julie? Never gave it much thought.
Some folks envy my current position. They see my new found reality as freedom, the stuff that dreams are made of, if you will. I beg to differ. There is something to be said for waking up to a schedule and routine. Having the ability to walk into work day after day, knowing that others are looking forward to seeing you and you them. Oh how I long for the mundane-ness of a schedule and routine.
It’s not easy, sitting home day after day. Anxious to drive. Fearing that I will be stranded, puking in a parking lot somewhere. I am a social creature by nature but have found myself more reclusive here lately and that scares me a bit.
True, I fish. On good days. You can bet your ass when given the opportunity and a wonky free day, I’ll be on the water. Sadly, those days don’t outnumber the wonky ones.
Now, back to my dash and yours for that matter. My dash didn’t curve in early June of last year. It didn’t curve in 2004 when diagnosed with a wonky brain tail. My dash has kept on forging ahead, straight and stout, with or without my blessing. That’s the reality. Life, the dash, everything in between, well, it keeps on keepin’ on.
The past few days, I’ve not left the house much and have only spoken to others outside of my inner circle out of shear necessity. Selfish? Maybe.
Truth of the matter, I’ve been thinking- ALOT. What have I done with my dash? What am I doing with my dash? What do I plan on doing with my dash in the near future?
I started making a mental list. I found myself camped out near the reality that once was, steering completely clear of my new one. The one that started early June of last year. Much of my dash, up until then had been spent parenting, wifing and teaching.
Now what? Well, I guess that’s the beauty of the dash. We choose what it looks like, regardless of our circumstances.
Rest assured, I’m about to “turn out the lights” on my ‘lil pity party. I will keep on keepin’ on straight and stout. You can bet my dash will include much writing, as I have a wicked creative streak here lately. My dash will include as much fishing as physically possible. My dash will include much “wifing” as Stuart and I are 25 years strong with many more to go. What else will my dash include? Not a clue but I’ve got a few things in the works. Have no doubt, my dash will leave a mark.
What are ya doin’ with your dash?