This is a story about “DUH” moments.  Yesterday, it occurred to me that I’m spending so much time trying to build my “How I Got Here” series…that I’ve completely ignored the present and future thoughts and events I need to share.  So, that being said…I’m going to try and run stories about the past, present and future.  We’ll see what Mr. ADD has to say about that. Given the number of “squirrels” I incur on a daily basis…it shouldn’t be all that hard to keep every one confused.

I’ll start off the present in the next post.

So, first I’d like to apologize for the extended space between postings.  I’ve been trying my best to cope with the thyroid issues, prep for a supplemental disability hearing next month, and just keep myself in one piece (anxiety has a way of pulling me in directions I don’t want to go).

Today, we have to backup in time a little.  In my last post, I began telling of the beginnings of my physical health issues.  However, my mental health was also undergoing a change.  The ordeal my father caused when I was thirteen left a mark called PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  My father’s gene pool is rich with genetically linked depression…that thirteen year old kid, situational issues, and puberty made sure that I would fight this demon the rest of my life.  For whatever reason, be it the generation (the 80’s) or decisions by my guardians, neither myself or my siblings ever received “any” type of therapy.  We were simply expected to just carry on like nothing ever happened.  Two of us would come out as strong self-sufficient adults…the other two would constantly blame others (the world) for their problems.

In order to collect any items I wanted from our house, I had to make a visit.  To this day, I can still smell the pungent “aroma” of tear gas, I can see the pool of blood under the table where my mother hid as she bled to death, I can see the bullet holes in the bathroom door and ceramic tiles on the opposite wall.  It plays in my head like a movie.  No, I wasn’t there when the event happened…but it’s not difficult for my mind to reconstruct the film footage.

We’re going to add one more item to the mix…Attention Deficit Disorder (now would be AADD for Adult Attention Deficit Disorder).  The best I can figure (based on the behavior of some of my family members), this little beast came from my mom’s side of the family.  They have the same tendency I do for starting a project…getting distracted…and never making it back around to finish what they started.  For those of you who have seen the movie “Up”, I’m the dog named Doug.  I use a term from the movie to describe when I get sidetracked, distracted, etc.  …”Squirrel!!”

So…you have at this point we have physical decline happening, depression, ADD, and PTSD at this point.  I’ll let you in on that physical issue here shortly.  There’s more back story that needs to be established before that ailment is defined.

Until next time…God bless.

I had to step back to a previous series of articles.  My Father in Heaven has watched over me for almost fifty years now.  There are the times where His intervention is obvious and magnificent…and there are those times He has my back and I am oblivious.  What every son wants to do is please their father.  But with God, it’s a little more difficult deciphering what it is He wants you to do.  Yes, we have the Bible to lead us…but what about those “personal” items.  What does God want from “me”?

A couple years ago, it occurred to me that God has pulled me from the grave more times than I deserve.  And I racked my head trying to figure out why.  Then it finally made sense.

I have a story to tell…a testimony of you will…and a mighty powerful one.  I’ve seen it all…good and bad…lots of the world…and God has walked me through it all.  Now it’s time for me to tell everyone else my stories.  The most powerful of all the testimonies I have to offer…how a man that is struck down in his prime draws closer to God…rather than cursing him.  It’s as counterintuitive as anyone could imagine…but it’s the truth.  My faith is stronger in weakness than in health.  Though I have daily struggles…I thank my Father in heaven for another day with my wife, my children, my family and my friends.  I thank you Father for all of the blessings you have bestowed upon me.

I am currently in a personal struggle that has what seems an obvious answer…but to ensure I’m not being influenced by the AADD…I’m praying and seeking advice that what I’m about to do is for my Father…and not for me.  As most of my friends and family know…I am disabled and unable to maintain steady work due to the arm long list of issues I deal with daily.  That’s not a complaint…I’m here long past what the Vanderbilt’s statistics would grant me.  In an attempt to keep my brain intact, I’ve tried to maintain a few hobbies.  I’m long past the point where any progress has been seen in these hobbies.  I’ve describe my life to Heather as nothing but one big uncompleted project.  The Adult Attention Deficit Disorder continues to get worse regardless of the power drugs used to try and keep it at bay.  Other physical issues also complicate my ability to make much progress on the hobbies that have been eating up every inch of my ten foot by ten foot “office”.

So, I have a decision to make.  Acknowledge that it’s time to give up some of my hobbies that require mental and physical dexterity and turn my focus to my writings.  That is…give my time to God. He put an obvious use for keeping me around here right in front of my face.  I’ve ignored Him too long.  It’s my belief that He knows some tidbit in one of my stories (testimonies) is needed for someone else out in the world.  As arrogant as that may sound…I have so much to share…so many situations where a Holy influence is the only answer to my questions.  I feel it’s my mission to share all that I can in the time God has given me.

I welcome your opinions.  May God bless you.

I thought I’d add a nice map for the “How I Got Here (Part 2)” posting.

Just a short post tonight (or rather this morning)…

So, the last gym class that I would have was during my sophomore year in high school.  That’s not to say that I wasn’t an active kid. Quite the opposite.  Under several different names, Ted Roberts (drums), Mark Moore (bass guitar), Jerry Fontaine (lead guitar/vocals), Wayne Burns (frontman/vocals), myself (keyboards/vocals) and numerous stand-in guests formed a rock band and played occasional gigs at parties, bars, and venues I still haven’t been able to describe.  To be honest, almost every one in the band got a workout playing “roadie” duties except for the drummer.  It was amazing how much time Mr. Ted could waste dilly-dallying while the rest of us hauled not only our own gear in…but his drum kit, too.  I only pick on him because he’s one of my best friends…and he deserves it.

After graduating high-school, I reconnected with my friend Chuck Ransom who had been attending Tennessee Tech in Cookeville, TN.  He was back in LaVergne and living just a few houses down the street from me.  Chuck and I met in the first grade…and are friends…forever.

Chuck had met a young lady and decided he needed to do some exercising and try to get his body looking a little better than it was.  Chuck, just like myself had taken on the sedentary lifestyle both in vocation and home life.  Our plan was to work-out with some free weights and run laps around the block.  A pretty simple plan for our start.  I sat out on an overcast day, cool temperature but not cold…I’m going to “run” around the block.  I barely made it to the end of our street.  I invented the phrase “sucking dirt” on that day back in 1980-something.  We’re talking the distance of no more than ten houses before I simply couldn’t breathe.  I didn’t stop.  I walked.  I walked fast.  I walked slow.  I considered crawling at one point.  I tried running again (dumb idea).  I did what it took to make it around our chosen path and back to the refuge of my bedroom.  A room that at times I would describe with four-letter words followed by the word hole.  But at this moment…it was the Taj Mahal.

Anyone remember the Fat Boys?  I’m young. I’m thinking, “I’m overweight, been sitting around too long…I’ll try again.”

I’m nineteen years old (technically still a teenager)…and the genetics of countless generations have begun the transformation.  Nineteen and invincible, right?

Just a few more years…we’ll see.