Sorry I Couldn’t Be Your Dancing Monkey

Now and then, someone says something really stupid to me, like how I’m not being as funny lately.

Um, okay, duly noted. Sorry I’m a disappointment. I’ll put that on my “Gaping Life Failings” list, right under forgetting to wash my sneakers recently and not flossing enough.

Actually, no, I’ll put it on the list under “go fuck yourself.”

Finding out yesterday that my back has likely had a herniated disc for quite some time has turned into one of those “THAT’S WHY” epiphanies that’s like the light turning on and heavenly angels singing.

I’ve been very antisocial since my back blew in March. I was having problems at least a month or two before that, but that’s when it went. I’ve been struggling with it since.

The LEAST of my concerns has been entertaining my online audience.

Unfortunately, people only remember whether you made them laugh last week or this week, and most of the time that’s that. God help you if you use the web to talk about your real life.

Somewhere along the way, people start feeling entitled to your content.

I’ve been pretty pleased to just survive on a daily basis. That’s been my only goal for months now. Anyone who hasn’t had persistently bad back problems — without a car, without living next to a store, and without the money to throw at it for rehab — doesn’t have a fucking clue what my life has been like.

I’m so proud of how I’ve coped and what I’ve overcome, considering the limitations I’ve had for doing either.

And if I forgot to stop and make you laugh along the way, big fucking deal. Your problem. Not mine.

In recent weeks/months, hether it’s family or friends or people I don’t even know, I’ve had a lot of people who seem to feel entitled to my time and efforts.

They’re not. No one is.

Sometimes, the best thing we can do for everyone is to do nothing for them, and focus only on ourselves. I feel I have a lot to offer this world, but I can’t do it when I’m operating at a fragment of my capacity, hobbled by pain and warning signs.

I’m getting my life back. Now I know it really was as serious as I felt it was. Now I know it’s a potentially lifelong affliction I’ll always have to watch, but it’s also something I can get past.

If you’ve ever been inclined to tell someone they haven’t been as funny lately, then shut up. Shut the fuck up.

There have been days in the last 6 months when I suddenly found myself laughing at something, when it’s been a really dark day, and then, next thing you know, my eyes are welling up with tears because I’m thrilled I found something funny again.

And that’s life. It’s not just a barrel of laughs.

And none of us are your dancing monkeys.

When content-creation is a day-in, day-out chore, such as with social media and the like, then you get what you get. Don’t like it? Go. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you saying you’re disappointed will matter at all. In fact, it’d likely make most people more depressed or fatigued. So, don’t say anything, and just go. We really don’t want to hear it.

Meanwhile, I feel like this is the turning point for me. Knowledge IS power. I’m determined. I’ll get past this shit.

I know a lot of people who just go to the chiropractor, as if that’ll magically heal their back. It takes discipline, constant work, and even diet changes. I’ve certainly been trying, but I’ve been treating the wrong injury, and even sustaining the injury with bad biking form.

Maybe I’ll be a dancing monkey again soon.

It’ll just never be on demand.

Welcome to social media and casual blogging, where you get what you get.