Good morning, dear reader! I hope you are having a fantastic start to your weekend! Sleep in, take a bit to relax, and enjoy the day! And if you work on Saturdays, I hope your shift goes quickly and no one gives you a reason to punch them in the pancreas!
I love Saturday. Even before I had them off. It was always my favorite day. Maybe it comes from childhood since it was the fun day of the week. And fun it is! Some relax and recover from a long week, some find projects around the house to do, some take small trips with friends and family someplace fun, some people get to get all kinds of kinky and freaky. Really wish I was in that last group. That sounds great today!
But my Saturday is me sitting in a car for a while heading to a really fancy hotel so that I can go watch the Colts (hopefully) get their asses handed to them by my Titans tomorrow. Titan up, baby! Yeah!
Football is one of the things I love most. Even when my team is garbage, and that has happened more often than not for the Titans, I am dedicated to my boys. I find peace in the wars they wage every Sunday. It’s cathartic for me. I miss it so much.
I used to play football back in the day, like many of you, I would assume. I played in middle school and high school. I was even set to play in college, but I blew my knee out before the first game of my freshman year and never recovered. I was a tight end and a defensive end.
I loved strapping on the pads. The adrenaline rush as I walked into the field. The energy coming from the players and coaches and even the people in the stands was electric. It was honestly one of the best feelings I have ever experienced. I would get so amped up, so full or energy that I couldn’t contain it, so I’d start drumming on my thigh pads while waiting for the kickoff. I was on both the kickoff and kick return teams, so that drumming was almost my battle cry. As soon as the ball was kicked all hell would break loose and the nerves would fade and I would settle into the game, giving all that I had, mentally, physically, and emotionally and leaving it on the field. That was my war.
Until I got hurt. I was in a bad place at that point in my life. I had heard so many stories of people not bouncing back after a big injury, never being the same. It scared me. I got depressed and stopped trying to get better. In fact, I only got worse. Drugs, alcohol, self harm... those were the weapons I had in my new war. It was a war I was determined to lose.
And I almost did. I came very close to ending my life. But a small thing happened. Well, small in regards to the world as a whole, but huge to me. I was given a tiny puppy. And it was love at first sight. A baby black lab that I named Gabby, because she like to gab and be chatty. She saved my life. Because I was scared that if I wasn’t around, no one would feed her and take care of her. How could I leave her? So I stayed. And I promised her I wouldn’t leave her. And even though she died at a very young age, and that broke me so much harder than I can explain, I kept my promise. And I haven’t had a desire to hurt myself since.
A fear that someone would forget to feed my puppy, the love of my life, kept me alive. She saved me from a lot of things, including myself. Now I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs, I only barely drink. Sure, I eat the hell out of tacos, but that’s fine, right? This little dog, my little Gabby, fixed something in me. And now a huge part of what I’m about in this life is dedicated to doing that for others.
I am one of those people that others turn to when things go poorly, or they need to vent frustrations, or they just need to talk. I have talked several people down, talked the gun out of mouths, talked the blade away from wrists, talked a noose off of a persons neck. I’m not bragging. Because this isn’t something to brag about. Especially because there are times I couldn’t talk them down. I mention it because I see so many people hurting, so many going through so much. Sometimes all they need is someone to listen.
So, dear reader, if you ever need to talk. Here I am. Even if we have never spoken before. Or find someone else to talk to. But don’t carry the burden alone. You’re not alone.
I... don’t know how I went from talking football to doing a plea for people to get help they need it. I have a friend going through some stuff and she doesn’t really like help, so maybe it’s a bit of that. I don’t know. But if you need help, get help.
And, umm... are you ready for some football?
