Sunday, 8 March 2026

We have met the enemy…

I was brought low this week by the scheming of my most ancient foe, the one who knows me best and anticipates my best defensive measures. He rode in under the cover of my righteous anger, who I never trust for very long under any circumstances. But once inside my walls, he required very little help before I gave up the very idea of battle.

That was Monday. A missed appointment sent me stomping away from a clinic that had tried calling me to reschedule. They could have emailed me. I think that’s a rather weak retort, but it was the hill I chose to nearly die on this week. I’m certain I can be more creative than that in the future, but I didn’t have much to work with last Monday. I don’t require much, however. I am very efficient with my impulses, appetites, and emotional states. I have a marvelous force multiplier between my ears for taking random circumstance and creating enough of a situation that anyone in my shoes would themselves feel compelled to behave at least as self-destructively. They might lose points for style.

I set off walking across Montrose, Colorado and realized after only a couple hundred yards without my portable oxygen concentrator that this entire exercise was one of futility. Two or three hundred yards further I stopped at the hospital and asked if I could borrow the use of their oxygen for a few minutes and gave a very brief synopsis of the story so far, even to the point of self-deprecation. They were very solicitous of my well-being and even offered to admit me, but I demured and continued on my way after a few more minutes with a cannula on my face. It does make a difference.

I walked all the way to the old City Market (Kroger) downtown and bought a pack of Lucky Red 100s and gave several away, knowing I would regret the purchase soon enough anyway. I ran into a few people I know while loitering around the library and then called for my ride home and walked the half-block to the transit station to wait.

I knew there would be something of a hangover from all of that, but I misjudged the severity of it. I was bed-ridden for most of the remainder of the week, though I did ride down to the lower part of the property the following morning to talk over some work we need done and prepare to receive bids on. After that, the rest of the week is sort of a blur with days and nights running one into another with no sense to be made by me when one began or ended. I got nothing done, or very little, anyway. And I found myself also gaining weight and making some pretty poor choices at the grocery store.

Tomorrow I can turn all of that around. I can begin the slow, methodical, daily practice of arresting that slide and get my tent moving uphill once more. I began that tonight something as simple as doing the dishes. This morning I made my bed and took my morning meds more or less on time. Tomorrow I will make ride arrangements and see about whether I can do a sleep study here at home. I have a rather embarrassing history with sleep studies. So, I will arrange a ride to the nutritionist and see if she can meet me earlier in the day, since that is a gym day, and I’ll be right there. I will ask about home sleep studies. If I do all of that as well as my daily tasks, then I can consider that self-care of the best sort.

The best thing I can frequently do is whatever tedious or onerous business that I will be happy to have behind me tomorrow. So I will seek to accomplish today those things that the Frank of tomorrow can thank me for getting out of the way. This also involves a steady application of the word “no”. Part of moving forward and making progress involves saying no to myself and others with regularity. No is a complete sentence. Saying no requires no explanation or apology. Saying no frequently involves allowing the child in me to cathect with the adult, and that is something I do too infrequently. All you have to do is spend a few minutes with my medical files or my criminal record to see that very plainly. It should also be noted that it is generally easier to turn a no into a yes than vice versa. This is, I think, perhaps the most important tool I can use on the road to some sort of self-mastery.

It is, of course, so very simple.

So why do I have so many DUIs and a terminal medical prognosis?

My child regularly avoids my adult and jumps in the lap of my critical parent. The payoff in that is I get to say, “what’s the use?” and feel overwhelmed. Feeling the depth of this failure is not tolerable for very long. It requires oblivion. I’m hard wired for this game. For the last eighteen years or so, I’ve checked out.

I know how to do this, but am I willing to just let go?