I can’t tell you how long I’ve been sitting here staring at this blank screen…
My fingers keep flexing out like little tendrils on some amoebic creature that only exists in funky water from third world countries that makes tourists poop themselves to death. Just twitching out and methodically curling and extending. Looking for that spark of thought that will ignite the greatest blog ever written.
And then 10 more minutes goes by, and I giggle about the “tourists pooping themselves to death” thing.
It’s literally taken months to start this post, so I don’t know why I thought it would be like hopping back on a bicycle and jumping into the Tour De France. Not that my writing career could ever be described as a pinnacle like that French bike race is, but I think the metaphorical point has been made.
I guess since what I want to say isn’t easy – writing it shouldn’t be either. Then again, when has something being hard ever scared me away? Hell, I’m attracted to difficulty. Just apparently not when it comes to expression. So, I guess I’ll just merge into this thing like an old Asian woman gets on the highway: badly.
I’m staring down the barrel of my 35th birthday, which would mark the first 5 years of this website’s namesake. In that period of time I think I’ve written no more than 3 different “plans” for what this website was going to be. At first it was about health and changing my life. And then it became a living journal of sorts. Then there was a period of time when I was back to writing about diet and exercise. And then I would get drunk and write something emotional. And then I’d write something funny. In the end, if you read the posts in order – which I have – it sounds vaguely schizophrenic.
I worried about it a lot. I worried that without a set style or something to look forward to – people wouldn’t read it. I never wrote about what was on my mind. I wrote about what I was willing to share. I let my ego build up this image of me that saw emotions as a weakness. How could I – the magical and mysterious Gammill – be weak?
The truth? I am weak.
We all are.
If you just said, “not me – I’m strong as shit!” No, you’re just as weak and fallible as the rest of us in your own special way.
As many of you know, back in June I had a quintuple bypass. If you didn’t know – you do now. The bypass was to fix damage from a viral infection that I got when I was in the middle of one of those severe health kicks in my life. Literally taken down in what had become my prime. The ensuing depression was bone crushing. It lasted for 3 and a half years until this past June. There is a whole series of posts that talk about that ordeal, and I’m not going to drag that explanation out.
One thing that I harp on about the experience is that it killed me. Literally. My heart was extremely weak going into the surgery and a couple of times it just quit beating. I didn’t know about it until well after the surgery, and the knowledge changed me.
I’m not one to play to dramatics, but as far as I am concerned, that guy – that depressed, broken, weak man that I was on the morning of June 16th, died.
I’m the guy that woke up that afternoon.
And THIS guy – this guy wants to share his thoughts and feelings and dreams and struggles and failures and successes, because in some small way I pray to whoever will listen that I can make an impact. Even if it is on one life. If ONE single person reads something I wrote and it affects them in a way that makes them wake up like I woke up – I would consider this to be a mission accomplished and can move on to my next endeavor.
I guess the purpose of this whole post is just to say hello again.. Or hello for the first time.