No one is quite sure where he came from, least of all me, but arrive he did. I have always suspected that before Ataxia came to live with me, that it's first thirty-eight years were spent on a remote island where only the crudest of men live, and the observance of societal norms or manners were non existent.
Or maybe it grew up with a pathologically, psychologically, seriously-whacked out dictator. Or maybe it was a little of both. I don't even know what name "it" went by, before "it" came to live with me. I will probably never really know, but wherever the truth may lie doesn't really matter anymore. The "it" that I have been forced to live with, and am referring too now, has come to be known as SCA.
However, lately I have come to refer to "it" as a "him". This is because in my last blog, giving him his own persona is how I associated with my handicap. It struck me the other day that even the most vile of criminals and villains have names, and so it only seemed appropriate for my personal Neurological-thorn to have one too. And once that was decided, I really took the task seriously. I pondered, I paced, I meditated, I wanted a name that would perfectly sum up his persona in one simple phrase.
I enumerated, struggled mentally, and reached for a perfect name...and then, three seconds later I landed on the name Brutus the Crippler, or The Crip for short. He really hates when I call him that, but it seemed fitting. The guy's an animal, a brute with absolutely no compassion.
Of course, I would have rather given him a name that is meek and gentle, like Brian the Compassionate, or, Burt the Humble. I would even have settled for a feminine companion, like Grace, or, Faith. Seems to me that having an SCA with female characteristics might at least gain me a fraction of a chance that there would be an apology issued, as she joyfully, and without abandon pushed me down the stairs. As is the case right now, my only companion during the long and bumpy flight down is remorseless laughter.
I also have a very strong feeling that The Crip didn't just happen upon me by chance. I think that he studied me before his actual physical arrival, and he strongly believed that I would be susceptible to his destructive ways. But this is where I believe that I can turn the tables on him.
Because I don't think that Brutus was counting on the fact that I would, in turn, study him and discover that he has a predictable pattern. For example, what I have found to be the case is that the faster I try to do something, the harder that task will then become, and suddenly I will find myself engaged in a physical loop were I just keep quickly going through the same small motion.
Everything from putting a key in a hole, to tying my shoes, to quickly sliding my feet into slippers so that I can go outside. I just keep missing the mark, and the more I try, and the more frustrated I get, the worse my overall attitude and outlook becomes. Brutus knows this, and his objective is to get me so worked-up and tired of trying that I will give up completely.
He wants me to stay in the frenzied loop. But instead I choose to break the cycle, and his will, by stopping, taking a deep breath, refocusing, and trying again. Refocusing does not necessarily mean that my muscles will cooperate any better, and I may still have a difficult time, but I have let The Crip know that he is not the one in charge. He may want to be, and sometimes it may appear like he is getting closer to being the one who calls all the shots, but he is not.
Ataxia comes at us in many different forms, with many different personalities. Some are big brutes, like my guy, and some are a little more subtle. Their goal, however, is a unified one; to make life miserable and to make us want to give up by throwing in the towel and wanting to quit.
And to do that, every one of them (Ataxias) does the predictable by going after us physically. But I am here to remind you that in order for it to touch the Spirit....to take away your ability to love, your ability to show compassion, and to allow the feeling of joy to spread from you and to others...it first needs your permission. Ataxia does not respect you, nor does it need your ascent to take away the physical. However, it does need your permission to steal, redefine and reshape who you really are.
And I, for one, am not going to be giving the Rabble-Rouser Brutus permission, and my deep desire for you, my friends, is that you will not be giving yours permission either!
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