Lately, I've done better than I ever have mentally. I feel strong and fit, virile almost. Rosa notices it. The gang at the shopping center notices it. Mom notices it.
Lately, I am taking pride in my appearance and this is something I haven't done in months. I take a shower everyday. I carefully blow dry and brush my hair. My usual repertoire of old, raggedy, hole infused clothes and t-shirts has been replaced with stylish pullovers and khaki pants. I am even wearing my new tennis shoes these days.
The littlest thing can set me back though...
"Dad, will you bring me some diet cokes from the drug store?" I asked a moment ago.
"YOU WANT MORE? I brought you some last night!" Dad replied.
I blushed and grew quiet. It was embarrassing to be 35 years old and having someone moderating how many cokes I am drinking. To be berated for such a thing was humiliating.
"People can die from drinking too much water!" he told me. "What are you doing? Why are you drinking so many cokes?"
Quiet from me.
"I will bring you some, but something is wrong. I wonder if you can get high off of diet cokes! You would find a way!"
I hung up the phone. My hands were shaking. My indomitable spirit had been squelched like the flame of a candle extinguished. I felt like a 5 year old getting scolded for putting his hand in the cookie jar too many times. There is just something terribly wrong with this whole scenario. So I drank a lot of diet coke today, so what? I won't let it get me down though. I try not to write about these instances, but needed to vent. My blog is my sounding board.