Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Much Can Change in a Month...

If you’re not interested in a personal post, you might want to skip this one. If you’re only here to check up on the progress of my writing or things of that nature, you might just want to skim it. If, on the other hand, you’re actually interested in me as a person and not a writing machine, stick around. You just might learn something.

As I write this, it’s my forty-second birthday. My age and the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything are now the same (kudos if you caught that reference). I’ve already talked about how my life changed over the last year in regards to writing, so I’m not going to rehash that. What I AM going to do is talk about some of the other massive changes my life has undergone, and most of them in the last month.

Some of you may know or have picked up on the fact that I quit my day job earlier this month. I wish this was because I was earning enough from writing to support myself, but that’s not the case. Actually, the reasons are more important than that.

I’m one of those people who won’t go see a doctor unless I’m at death’s door. I don’t know why, that’s just how I’ve always been since I got old enough to make the decision for myself. Well, shortly after the New Year, I broke down and went to get checked out. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure several years ago, but like an idiot, I stopped taking my medication for it. Things became stressful at the day job, with people showing up to work when they wanted to and things of that nature, which only made my health issues worse. To cope, I was self-medicating to some degree, up from the normal couple of beers or so I’d drink while writing to killing a fifth of scotch or bourbon in a couple of days. I was smoking like a chimney, and generally doing everything I could to kill the stress I was feeling. The problem was, I was killing myself, too. My heart had started beating so hard it was nearly coming out of my chest, and to say I felt miserable would be an understatement.

So, afraid I was going to have a stroke or a heart attack literally at any moment, I broke down and went to see the doctor. Ever hear the old adage your life changes in an instant? I understand that now.

Let me get this out of the way right up front: I’m not dying. Well, no more than any of us are, at least. That doesn’t mean I don’t have things to deal with, though.

They took my blood pressure five times over the course of that two-hour visit. The average reading was around 140 over 110. In case you don’t know, that’s the danger zone, folks. I was informed that had I not come in, I would have most likely had that heart attack or stroke within a week’s time. They did an EKG right then and there, and didn’t like what they saw. I was put on some heavy-duty medication and told to come back in a week. They also scheduled me to have an ultrasound on my heart, which I did. The end result was that my left ventricular and aortic chambers were enlarged, and I have a slight murmur. I was, in effect, killing myself, and being quite successful at it.

I did some serious soul-searching that night after I got home and filled my wife in on my stupidity to that point. I realized quite clearly that if I didn’t make some serious changes in my life, I wouldn’t have a life to change for very much longer. Change number one: the drinking went from borderline alcoholic back to reasonable again, FAST. A beer or two a day? Fine. A normal-sized Scotch or bourbon every now and again? Still okay. My wife even told me I am allowed to have a glass of red wine every day, should I so choose (since red wine’s good for the heart; what a kick that I only liked blushes and whites, isn’t it?). Going to bed half-drunk (if not fully drunk) every night? Over. Done. Not happening.

Change number two: the smoking. I haven’t quit, but I’ve cut back. I’m evaluating options for how best to quit altogether, and will be putting those into action within the next week or so.

And change number three: quit the stress-factory that my day job had become.

For those of you who worked with me or just wondered why I’d done that, there’s the reason. A bit more complicated, but that’s it in a nutshell.

Now, maybe it seems insane to leave a job I’d held for nearly seven years, and that not only paid my bills but kept me insured. Why lose my health insurance during a point in time where I obviously need it the most? Well, my stress levels dropped almost immediately, that’s why. I’d rather fret over trying to figure out how to pay bills and medical expenses than keep making reasons to need that stress in the first place. Money stress is one of those normal, everyday things we all deal with. The rest of it wasn’t. And without the rest of it, the money stress doesn’t seem nearly as bad anymore.

There’s been good stuff, too. Most of it after I started trying to get myself back on track, funny enough. Less than a week after leaving the old job, I had a new one. That has proven to be a stepping stone to another job, that will have a more stable income, and benefits down the line, if not immediately. I had a wonderful response to a story I submitted to an anthology (that I can’t talk about at the moment), and while I didn’t make the preliminary ballot, I did end up on the reading list for the Stokers—off a self-published debut novel I didn’t expect to do anything at all. I’ve actually felt closer to my family, and have learned to appreciate my life more. Maybe it was a horrible way to get there, but emotionally and physically, I feel better than I have in a very, very long time.

So why make this post? Let me be clear about one thing: I am NOT looking for sympathy. I did this to myself, so it would be pretty foolish to expect anyone to feel sorry for my stupid decisions. If you want to pray for me, or send me good vibes, by all means do so. I’ll take all of both I can get. But don’t feel bad for me. I made my mistakes, caught them, and am trying to correct them. That’s just life.

No, I’m making this post so maybe it can serve as a warning or a help for others. I am living proof that you shouldn’t muck around with your health. If something’s wrong, get checked out. If your job is killing you, find something else. Life is too freaking short to subject yourself to a slow suicide.  There will never be a point where you are completely worry-free, so don’t even try for that. Just try to make those worries as small or compacted as you can. Find something to make you smile and hold onto it for all you’re worth. Simply put: don’t just exist in life, actually LIVE it!

Okay, I’ll step down off the soapbox now and wrap this up. I think, ultimately, I made this post because I needed to point some things out to myself, to take stock in a public way so there’s no chance of me lying to myself down the line. I did it to clear the air and dispel some rumors that flared up at the old day job after I left. And I did it because, well, I’m damned proud of the changes I’ve made in the last couple of weeks. I wish I hadn’t been forced into making them, that I’d simply come to them naturally, but things happen as they’re supposed to. All I can do now is capitalize on that.
Thanks for sticking around through this, and I’ll talk to you all again soon!