Back

One thing about having chronic back problems is that it’s like joining a club.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple annoyance or requires surgery, you suddenly join a group.  It’s a pretty crappy club though.

We don’t have secret handshakes but we do have secret ways to shimmy our way to the bathroom in the morning.

The thing about having a bad back is that it is all consuming, and I don’t mean just physically.  An ailing back can damage even the strongest of pysche.  Let me give you an example:

Often when my back acts up it doesn’t really hurt, at least not yet.  The best way I can describe it is like an anxiety attack.  You can’t get comfortable staying still, it’s uncomfortable to move, and it’s a constantly building pressure of awkward annoyance.  Over the course of several hours it drives me to such distraction that I want to cause great bodily harm to my own person.

If you also have had back problems, I could simply shrug with a grimace and you would nod complete understanding.  The rest of you think that since it doesn’t really hurt, per se, that I should just take an aleve and get over it.  I’m not being hyperbolic about how aggravating this scenario is, by the way, if anything I’m selling it short.

There is also the indescribable feeling where you can feel that your back may end up going out, but you aren’t sure yet.  It’s frightening.  But to the uninitiated, you simply wonder why I’m acting strange if nothing is wrong yet.  Woe be to the fool who ignores the warning, because you will suffer.  But when you’re careful and the next day your back feels just fine?  Epic.

So yeah, you’re going to suffer from back ailments, but at least you aren’t alone.  Unfortunately, nobody in the club will listen to you complain because they know their turn is coming up soon...

I say "'Tard"

You know what I don’t understand?  Why we all make allowances for everybody else’s actions.  I’m as much a recipient of this as anybody else, so I’m not really complaining.  It’s just a wonder.  Haven’t you ever wanted to tell someone to “stop being such an f’n ‘tard?”

Let’s say you’re an asshole (me,) or a drunk (me,) or a stoner, or self-absorbed(me,) or living in the past, or shallow (me,) or any other of a myriad of assholery (me.)  Everybody just moves on.  We forgive the belligerent drunk because he was belligerently drunk.  We forgive the stoner because she was too out of it to pay attention.  We forgive the thieving ass-hat because it was the heroin’s fault.  Unless you kill somebody, we just seem to let it go.  And if you don’t, then you’re the mean prick for not forgiving them.  We have these silly interventions because we are “sad” or “worried.”  Why does it all have to come from love?  I think we should be allowed to tell people to stop being an idiot because they are being an idiot!  

In major things, this is obviously a problem.  The drunk driver who eventually kills the pregnant teenager taking night GED classes will be hated, but not until we have a dead teenager.  But what about the little things?  What about the person who has tons of potential but simply never lives up to it?  I’m not sure why we feel sorry for them when maybe we should be sorry we know them.  Look, I know that I’m a large waste of most peoples’ time even though I could have been a mediocre waste of most peoples’ time.  Isn’t that tragic? I coulda been a contenda!  But nobody is mad at me, they are just depressed about me.  (Speaking of which, stop thinking about me so much, it’s embarrassing.)

We like to make allowances for other people, and it’s pretty understandable.  Most of us don’t like conflict, and it’s rarely worthwhile even to those of us who do.  But it’s also condescending in a way.  It’s almost like you all expected my ass-hattery but were too kind to mention it when I was younger.  Why aren’t you vocally disappointed in the father who ignores his kids?  I’m pretty sure we’re allowed to refer to them with expletives, though I use them too often to have much sting.  But if you never swear and then call them a “fucktard,” think of how awesome that would be?  Some of you may be offended that I swear like a sailor, but when I stub my toe I get to swear like a sailor guilt free.  That’s worth your disappointment.

I’m not necessarily saying that this is all a bad thing.  I was at a party where somebody was far more touchy than they normally would have been.  It’s not like I wanted to give them a hard time for being red faced and happy.  We do make allowances for people, I’m just wondering if we go too far.  Unless I’ve blacked out, then I’m all for it.