Sometimes in your life, there are spans of time when the definition of your life is writ large, across the face of reality like graffiti. Everyone within eye sight, ear shot, a tongue flick can see, smell and taste everything that is about to happen… and have no idea what it feels like.
At this moment, my life is a storage closet of chaos. Life without definition, but full of cluster, sound and fury.
I just spent a half hour researching Cochlear Implants. I read someone elses blog on this process and broke down crying because it just hit me how freaking much… yeah, i can’t even verbalize it yet, really.
I haven’t heard much of anything since May.
My leg is healing from being broken.
I have ingrown toenail in my left big toe… which sucks terribly. Yeah, that’s what I needed there: MORE FUCKING PAIN IN MY LEFT LEG…
Tomorrow, I am getting a CAT scan for the express purposes of getting a Cochlear Implant.
I am beyond fucking terrified. I want to jump in my car and drive away, I want to hide and pretend everything is okay. Just tell me it’s okay, and tell me it’ll be alright. Jesus, I’m sick and tired of this year. Everything is breaking and I’m having to stand strong and tall and pretend I’m the one who isn’t affected… that I’ll always be the tough guy, but this tough guy just wants to run away right now.
But I can’t. Because this cochlear implant… if it works…
I’ll hear my nephew again.
Maybe I’ll hear my brother’s new band.
Maybe I’ll understand you all better, and be more involved socially.
MAYBE. I HOPE. I CAN HEAR.
How impressive. How horrible. How ridiculous. How sane. How completely and utterly impossible… or is it?
God please, let me get through this year. Let me hear everyone. Their voices, without having to ask twice. No more “what?”
This is the next step, isn’t it? Evolution. I will be assimilated into the collective. My technological distinctiveness will be undeniable, and overwhelming… if I hear you all, and don’t have to hide in the background anymore… can participate in group discussions… will I scare you? Will you accept this me, the real me, the hidden me?
Logically… It came down to to the Ellis Boyd Redding question… “get busy living, or get busy dying”, just changed around to “get busy hearing, or get busy being deaf”.
I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I didn’t try. I really want to hear YOU.
I really want to hear my nephew, my cousin’s kids… I even want to be able to say if modern music sucks, and not just be parroting someone else… I want to hear all that music I heard, the real thing, and not the tinny echo of my memory. I want to hear the argument across the table, at the meeting, or in the restaurant. My God… all I want to do is hear the sound of birds singing, or the cicada’s (man eating sparrows) serenade… the toads on the pond, the sound of rain, thunder, and lightning… count how far away it is in miles, from flash to thunder. I don’t want to make up your voices in my head anymore… like an equation of being able to tell what you sound like, just from what you look like.
or making up the sound of the room… here I sit typing, a fan next to me. I know I can’t hear the fan, but my mind is making the sound of the fan. Cause it knows the sounds should be there, but it’s not, so it makes it up… so it sounds like a fan, with someone playing a mournful guitar solo, bursting up high, holding the note in tremolo, and falling down, sadly, see the drops fall from the sky, like tears from my eyes.
You have no idea how lucky you are. No idea… just to hear the sound of a car door shut. That annoying screech of a baby crying. The nails on the chalkboard… just theories and memories at this point… relish I want in my life, once again.