We all can’t be Julio Franco. There is a reality that comes with getting older and at times it is a confusing one. My mental bandwidth is shot. I mean gone. Last night I was in the middle of an improv class and my brain went completely blank. It was like pulling a muscle in my brain. It has happened before but this felt like when I was hitting balls at Top Golf the week before last or bowling a couple weeks before that.
In both those instances things started out great. In fact it felt like I was doing better than I’d ever done before. I was bowling multiple strikes or driving the ball to the back netting. It was fun and then I was worse than I’d ever been. With the bowling my knee started to bother me and I just couldn’t stay balanced when releasing the ball. At the golf it was just like I lost it.
Right now my brain is existing in a state of blankness. I am not having any thoughts what-so-ever and having to just hope what comes out when I open my mouth makes sense. At times it feels like I am just a passenger in my own body. Watching myself go about my day unsure of what the next action should be.
This last week and a half has been too much stress. I need to be done for awhile. Perhaps I will get through everything I have to do and take a private weekend away. I don’t know where I would go or what I would do. Where does one spend a private weekend away and how private should it be?
I could go to a cabin by that big rock in West Virginia. Turn off my phone and sit in silence for a couple days. I have no idea, but I need a restart. I need to be unplugged for a good bit before being plugged back in.
Since my father passed I have been going non-stop. A lot of responsibility and burden was handed to me and I have to get things in order. I have to get it to where everything works. It just has to be done. So, maybe when that point arrives and I can step away I will. I will take a couple days away from everything and see if that can recharge me a bit. Otherwise I will continue to wade through this viscous discharge of stress.
David Huzzard Writes 