When I Grow Up

I’m still doing that thing I’ve been telling you I’m doing at the beginning of each of my past several articles. I’m clearing out notes in my notepad by telling you about them instead of just writing them down and then never doing anything with it.

I’m deleting the reference as I go, my notepad is beginning to have holes in it—progress. Going through it just now, I noticed two notes that are the same thing, I wrote them differently. The first one says “I fear losing my mind.” The second one said “When I grow up, I want to be able to control my thoughts.”

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Keep it together.

I fear things. The Almighty, or when the mailman delivers something from the IRS, “sign here, please.” I’m terrified to jump in a pond full of sharks but the likeliness of that happening is rare so I don’t necessarily fear it. People have a genuine fear of not being able to afford retiring, where they’ll live this time next year, how they will feed themselves, health care, we all have them. I’ve thought about each of those, they’re genuine concerns, but to say I’m afraid of them wouldn’t be accurate.

Afraid of losing my mind is accurate. I pride myself having a quick tongue, it’s reliable and the fastest I know. It’s competent, defensive, argumentative, comedic, passive, passive aggressive, not afraid to use commas and, above all, trustworthy. I’ll put it up against anyone’s. It doesn’t stumble over words like I know the majority of people do. My mind is quick. My mouth has never had difficulty keeping up with my thoughts, stumbling over sentences doesn’t happen, stu-st-studder—n -never, and I’m rarely at a loss for words. Everything else is a mess.

I have a bad wheel—I’m fairly limited when it comes to outdoorsy type adventure stuff. If I had to choose between that and a sharp mind with a mouth than can keep up, I’ll keep the limp. Thugs make a conscious effort to walk like me, all I have to do is walk. My gangster-lean is all gangster-naturelle.

I can’t see colors too well, I have anomalous trichromacy vision which means my reds and greens don’t look like yours, what else? I broke my neck once, C-5 and C-6 are “moderately out,” that’s the time I dislocated three ribs from my spine and sent one through my lung—it hurt! Ailments, there’s more, I’m thinking. I’m allergic to avocado—not an ailment but I can’t eat them and, according to everyone else, I’m really missing out.

Glasses, that’s another one, my eyes are 20/270 or something like that which means I’m legally blind in one eye. I wear glasses but only one lens is magnified. Whenever someone says “can I see?” When they look through my glasses, their reaction is pretty funny as they jump backwards and quickly remove them from their face. There’s more, I just can’t think of them all right now.

My point is, I wouldn’t trade any of it. If all of my ailments awarded me a sharp mind with a mouth that can keep up with it, I’ll take the ailments. My fear is losing it.

People fear not having drinking water tomorrow. Someone reading this might be in the middle of a refinance and denial means no college tuition for someone. Terminally ill relative or maybe you’re terminally ill, maybe you’re a woman who’s hair is falling out and it scares you. Your kid’s in trouble with the law, you borrowed more than you can afford, bit off more than you can chew, layoffs. I fear losing my mind.

We’ve all seen them, could you imagine?! It looks terrifying. Each time I see someone elderly and mentally incapacitated, whether man or woman, usually they’re in a wheelchair at that point and they’re staring off at something that just isn’t there anymore. Confined to a wheelchair, trying to hold their head up with a wrist bent at 90 degrees and it’s twitching like advanced hypothermia. If I drooled on myself in public today—mortified. I’d be so embarrassed should anyone spot me before my immediate reaction to clean myself up. I always wonder if they know they’re drooling and are just completely incapable of controlling it. Are the thoughts still there but the mouth can’t keep up or is the mouth the only thing left? A little bit of both maybe, a lot of both? I fear not being able to think about these things.

How sharp or accomplished was this man or woman before they were confined to this chair—did it come on suddenly or gradually? I’m always curious what their career was, where their family is, and just how much knowledge is in their brain that simply isn’t accessible anymore. I fear being this story’s inspiration.

Ever thought about it? Either you have or you’re “it’ll never happen to me” each time you pay them no attention as you vaguely observe them out of the corner of your peripheral. I think about these things. Wheelchairs and shaky wrists don’t concern me, not yet, not to say they won’t at some point, God I hope not. I’ve been acquiring arthritis for quite some time now but to say I’m afraid of those things happening, at this moment, ‘not really’ would be accurate. Not able to communicate, unable to do things like put this article together or, I don’t know, ‘talk,’ hold my head up by myself or feel self awareness and remain in control of my own self is fear worthy. Gnashing of teeth type fear.

As I evolve, commercials become clearer, know what I mean? As a kid, I didn’t notice things like political advertizements and all of those symptoms at the end of medication commercials. I only heard Toys R Us and “my buddy.” Eventually things like toothpaste commercials stand out, shoe sales, concerts—concert advertizements as a kid didn’t matter, fireworks and Hotwheels did. There was a time liquor sales got my attention. I’m at the age now when I hear investing or investment options I’m likely to pay attention, not that I’ll move forward with it or anything, I just hear it now. I guess what I’m trying to say is, there’s a whole aisle at the market dedicated to liquid absorbing drawls for seniors and I #love ❤️ not knowing where it is.

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Monday
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