"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." --Martin Luther King, Jr.
How does that explain my careening down an entire flight of stairs? It sure as shit wasn't a leap of faith. I thought I was awake and just hunting for the light when I slipped and missed the step and fell down the whole flight of stairs. My doctor argues that I passed out again, thereby breaking my tailbone. When I knocked my head on the tub, THEN I KNEW I blacked out, because the only thing that woke me up was the head bash. Otherwise, I was clueless.
Oh, if it's faith, I've got plenty. People at church keep calling me Job. "You're Job." "Read Job." My girlfriend said that Job went through all this horrible shit (she didn't say "shit," I'm paraphrasing) yet never lost his faith in God. I haven't lost my faith in God, either. If anything, I think God is being really fucking obvious with me in twisting my life into a new path, albeit a difficult and challenging path.
My best male friend is on a very dangerous and daunting path right now, and I'm trying my best to love him and support him without compromising my own health and stability. What started out as a silly, random but valid little argument about my family spiraled into drunken calls at 3am (his drunkenness, not mine), arguments on a grand scale and more ick than I care to delve into in this medium. Suffice it to say, he and I have been through the Heaviest of Shit together since the inception of our kinship, and this test of our love for one another is a) huge and b) drama I don't need right now and c) it'll be a miracle if we come through this both with our friendship, our romantic entanglement aside, intact.
Tomorrow, school starts. That's a very good thing. Unemployment is rolling along. Sweet. Pretty soon, I'll file my taxes and get some dough rolling into the camp, not that I'm not capable of surviving until then. My Tatus agreed to accompany me to a tattoo parlor. I reunited with my best high school friend. Tonight, I'm celebrating not only that my son turned 12 today, but that I fucking survived to see it happen, when the odds were immeasurably stacked against me time and time again.
I don't have to deal with the the multiple, constricting verities and balderdash of the medical practice stressing me out anymore, and can concentrate on my studies and career, my health, my kid, my sobriety and AA, my writing & music and my therapy.
So, MLK JR, I'll keep taking those leaps of faith, now enhanced by a nightlight in the bathroom that illuminates the hallway, and I'll refresh my knowledge of the book of Job, but I'm not giving up just yet.
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