The Road

The only constant thing in life is change. The lesson that no one should ever get too comfortable with their situation hit me like a punch in the face. In the months leading up to my junior year, I was given everything, a steady pay, opportunities to excel in sports, a beautiful girl, and a clean record as an adolescent. I was happy. My mind seemed to be at home in my life’s situation, like it was in the place it was supposed to be. I had worked my hands to the bone and clawed my way to where I was and truly believed I was given what I deserved. But why should hard work pay off? What justification is there? My mind was kidnapped and was sent walking down a winding road of dejection.

The first curve came with the tearing of my hamstring. Like water taken from a fish, I saw my own mobility slip through my fingers. Rigorous therapy, which left tears in my eyes multiple times a week, started almost immediately. I was at the point where I figured if I could endure the pain of my muscle realignment, that I couldn’t be touched by the crooked fingers of a worse agony.

The trek wasn’t made alone though, support from my varsity football teammates and caring girlfriend made dealing with these problems seem almost trivial. My gratitude wasn’t always projected in the way I would’ve wanted, due to mood swinging pain medication, but it was understood by my peers how I felt.

At that point, my mind was put under the impression that it was going home, but a confrontation from a coach put it right back on its swaying course. The higher ups of the political Hays football program felt they had no room for a player who couldn’t perform to his usual level. I was removed from the team, after weeks of waking up at six in the morning to stand in the blistering heat, I was removed.

My teammates, under the same shade of disbelief as I, knew the effect the blow had on my morale. I was taught by my peers that it was better to numb the pain rather than to deal with it. Alcohol had become a vitamin, a daily necessity. The drink tied cinder blocks to the feet of my mind, pulling it into even deeper levels of depression. The colors of my world ran together, and my mind had to crawl to move an inch.

Unable to handle my swaying levels of feeling, my girl found it in her best interest to let me sink without her. Which I don’t hold against her, I was sinking, cinder blocks pulling me down.

My mind was at a standstill, not moving at all. The lack of mobility left me only with the option of reflection. It took what felt like years for my mind to just sit up and look around, just look for a way out. It was then that I realized that I was back home, where I belonged. The long curving trail had been a circle, all leading up to where I began. I then realized that the only way to achieve anything in life is to start with nothing. This, I believe.