Extended relief.

Journal, Can I have my cake and eat it too? I’ve told you a bit about this before. I guess the world will know about most of it anyway when my book is out on shelves in a few months. But I dunno. There’s just a lot of emotion wrapped up in my head. Ha. My head. I guess it’s both literal and figurative- My head. My big, stupid, and diseased head. I love my life. I love my wife. The family I made with her. But I can’t help but feel irresponsible. I Know deep down that everything will work out. I will find a way to deal with things. Journal, When I saw her. When I realized that I needed her, well… I kinda found myself in a predicament. Epilepsy is a socially damning disease. The responsible thing to do is exile oneself to a place where they can’t burden anyone. Right? People like me aren’t designed to have a family. I am Pinocchio, Journal. I was a boy made of wood. Now I am a real man. At least, I have the life of a real man. It frightens me that I take medication to stay real- to hold my grip of this real life I have built for myself. At times, I think of what would happen if the magic no longer works on me. Sometimes I have nightmares of my legs turning to wood. I look into the eyes of my daughters. I would have never met them if I were a responsible epileptic. In their eyes I see a different type of magic. My pills are extended release, but my family medicates me with doses of extended relief. I see my daughters; I see my wife. I know that I can use my passion to avoid turning back to wood. Until the flesh disappears from my fingers, they will be deploying keystrokes. If I can live a life as a real person, why not demand more from it? I’ve developed a book in a year. Soon it will be on shelves. I continue to write. To share a view of this crazy world behind my lens. I know it’s going to work. For now, I continue to medicate. And live my life as a real boy. Life is good, Journal. Life is oh so good.

As Pinocchio would say,

I've got no strings to hold me down

To make me fret, or make me frown

I had strings, but now I'm free

There are no strings on me

Hi-ho the merry-o

That's the only way to be