It’s Difficult To Be A Dreamer

I have had a difficult time lately. Haven’t been feeling too well, physically or emotionally. Hate to beat the dead horse but I don’t have much else I can do. Not like I have the strength to do much else, anyway. Bitch, bitch, bitch.

It’s a broken lower leg. A fractured fibula to be more exact. There’s some muscle and ligament damage that requires an open MRI before I’ll know the full damage of the injury. It’s been six weeks. One would think that MRI would have been ordered by now. But for some reason that hasn’t happened. Perhaps the orthopedic doctor is concerned about my weight and finding a machine to accommodate me but I’ve called around and there’s is a facility in Owensboro (a mere 20 minutes away) that can accept me.

This will not surprise you but it sucks to have a broken lower leg and doubly sucks to be obese with a broken lower leg. What makes it worse for me is for the last year I’ve been exercising and building up my cardio and my endurance. I worked out three to four times a week as recently as seven weeks ago. I was getting healthier, stronger. And all that is gone now. I struggle to get from my couch to my bed or to my kitchen or the bathroom or from the front door to my car. All the buildup of that hard work is gone now.

I can’t bend my left knee. I’ve lost my flexibility. I don’t know if it’s the bone or the muscle. Here is where a MRI would be informative. Is the bone healing and if so is it healing properly? I use crutches sometimes if I have to walk far but I rarely leave home and only if I have to go to medical appointments. I don’t have a job. I’m on disability.

Yesterday, I had to go to Louisville to have a stitch taken out of my mouth. The previous week I had tooth pulled from the back of my mouth. That week a friend drove me. Amanda drove me and pulled me up to the front of the building so it was relatively easy. This week I went to my local courthouse and got a handicapped placard so I could park in front of the building because Amanda wouldn’t be able to take me.

No such luck. All the spots were taken. I had to go to the parking garage around the block. I was lost and confused, sweaty and disheveled. I hadn’t walked that far in two months. I lost all my cardio. Fortunately there was a shuttle bus to drive me around to the building but all my nerves took the energy out of me. Also, do you know how hard it is to stand up with all your weight on one leg waiting for a bus when there’s no seats or benches on the corner? It’s difficult to say the least.

When I finally got home, I was too exhausted to walk to my door in one go. I had to stop and sit on a bench belonging to my mom who lives next to me. I couldn’t get the air in my lungs fast enough. My heart pounded like a rabbit. It’s a struggle to get in and out of my car anyway because the injury is to my left leg. I have to swing both legs out of the car and then put my weight on the right leg while pulling up on the hood or the door with my arms just to right myself.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to make it. Am I going to heal my leg or is my heart going to give out from pushing too hard? It scares me. It’s been a nerve-wracking time to be alive. I try to concentrate on other stuff but it’s hard with the current state of the country and world today. I try to lose myself in music, at least by listening to it as I can’t seem to write anything at the moment. I’m in no mental shape to write. I’m too stressed. Some people think this would make for great creativity. I’m here to tell you that is not the case because I’m living it or else I would have songs, symphonies and novels produced already. All I have in my mind is one melody and a sentence that goes along with it and I’m not in the mood to develop it any further.

And I begin to think that if I ever somehow record and release another album, I already have another title for it. I’ll call it “I’m Done After This”. I won’t do anymore because I won’t want to do anymore. Why would anyone want to continue to create? It feels like an inhospitable environment for dreamers, now more than ever. And that’s all I’ve ever been.

I’m In Considerable Fucking Pain


My leg is not healing.

The doctor showed me two x-rays. One from today and one from three weeks ago and the one from today looks worse. She asked me if I fell. I hadn’t. I’ve just been unlucky. I’m always unlucky. I must have swallowed a bad penny when I was a child and not expelled it.

This is probably why I’ve been in consistent fucking pain for the last month. Because my leg hasn’t healed or started to heal for whatever reason. Or I’ve aggravated it by attempting to get up to stand and walk around the house. Believe me, I have barely tried to walk very far. I can barely stand and when I do the majority of my considerable weight is on my one good strong leg.

I cried in my car on the way home. I will cry some more tonight and will likely cry in the coming days. I hate my life right now. I’m in pain and I can’t stand it. There’s no painkiller that really does anything to deaden the dull ache of what I’m going through. How does anyone enjoy opioids, seriously? How does anyone enjoy them for recreation purposes? What kind of person does that?

I’d give my kingdom for a Tylenol extra strength but I don’t have a kingdom. All I have is aggravation, both in leg and in my life. Don’t try this at home, kids.