Knowing Your Place and Hating It

Sometimes life, the Universe, whatever gives you signs that you’re in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. Synchronicity abounds. Things almost seem out of your control — not in a complacent, don’t work and things will come to you on the tides sort of way, but rather in that nothing you do seems to have any effect. It’s not stagnation any more than standing still in the ocean shallows is to be immune from the currents. But it’s that things are forming around you, say a boat to ride those currents.

I am in such a state right now and I hate it.

I wanted to move, to be in another state by the end of last year. That did not happen. I started having trouble with my leg and with walking. Two visits to my primary care physician, four weeks of physical therapy, a muscle relaxer, a controlled substance pain killer, x-rays, an impending MRI, and two visits to an orthopedic doctor, and we are just beginning to find out what is wrong with my leg and what damage it has taken. The results of the MRI will see if there is any permanent damage, but the cause at last is pretty clear. After about 8 months of progressive, excruciating pain, a lack of mobility, fear and pain every time I stand, a stripping away of my limited independence, it all comes down to one agonizingly simple thing: my fucking hip needs to pop.

Yep. That’s all. It’s out of alignment. There’s a clear, visible line, indicating that it’s not in the place it needs to be. At the beginning of this, I remember (now) feeling that my hip needs to pop, but I couldn’t get it to. That all being out of whack has caused my back to twist, my hip to rotate, and for me to essentially be Igor. “Maaaaaaaster! My hiiiiiip!” I don’t have early onset arthritis, I’m not that old, I have no idea how it happened, but I imagine it was probably progressive. The answer? A chiropractor and possible physical therapy to reteach me how to not walk like a hunchbacked troglodyte.

This issue has stopped me from traveling or other nonsense. It has kept me in this place. It has stripped me of so much.

But it has given me stuff, too. Those proverbial blessings in disguise. I have been able to save huge amounts of money. I have increased certain friendships. I have been unable to work out, and started to gain weight. I cannot eat a burrito the size of east Texas and pretend that one session of working out and a walk will work it off. To counteract that, I have started eating healthy. I have lost so much weight that my belt no longer holds up my pants. My stomach is flatter than it has been in years.

I ditched the ex and his unstoppable lies, and though he looks a hell of a lot better than he has any right to (that Wookie picture was either taken a long time ago or he cleans up well), I wasn’t tempted to touch him. His tact, sense of what’s appropriate, and integrity are not in tune with reality. He has changed, and though I miss who he was, I don’t like who he is. I would have not done that or reached that stage had I spirited away to another state.

Then there’s Prince Scientist. That has been the single most aggravating, elating, Jane Austen bullshit I have experienced in some time. It’s like the Universe enjoys seeing us squirm. We look, we smile, we chat a little, we pretend to ignore each other, and we have yet to make any sort of connection which would allow us to take it further. One of us is usually around a group of people. The times we are not is when we talk the most, and you can see the difference in our conversations. It’s annoying. We are both shy and stubborn and surrounded. I caught him alone. We said hi, smiled, waved, passed each other, and then stopped in the hallway, both took out our phones, and gave each other side eye. I’m not fucking kidding. I believe there is something wrong with us.

But when I try to search him out, he happens to be doing overtime and I miss him, only to catch him another time with his friend (another gay scientist). Or, I see him as he’s rushing to log in or be late. Or, he comes into the break room when I’m getting ice or washing my cup. It’s like the Universe is setting us up to keep us on the periphery of each other’s attention.

The writing has flourished, and I know it wouldn’t if I had moved. I would be focused on getting acclimated, on making friends, on enjoying the weather, on whatever new job I was looking at.

The Universe has me here, and is working me at its own pace. I can’t budge out of it…and I don’t know that I should. I want it to go faster in some places, slow in others, and stop for yet another place. But sometimes we aren’t in control. And no matter how much we hate it, there is good to be found in even the darkest of situations. I hope I don’t screw it up.


~ by Darren Endymion on February 23, 2015.

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