Yes, I know I haven't written in quite a long time. I have been super busy lately and just didn't have the time to relax as I have in the past. But, even if another deadline is looming over my head, I felt the need to take a couple minutes and share something.
A couple weeks ago, I sold the Jenny L. She was a wonderful ship and I will miss her terribly. There just wasn't enough time to spend with her as needed. When a ship sits in dock, unattended, things have a habit of breaking and ruining other systems onboard. She is currently at a dock somewhere in South Florida with her new owners, who are going to live aboard her as the husband gets his masters degree at UF Maimi. This makes me happy.
The main reason I bought the boat was to prove to myself that any fears can be tamed, if you keep putting yourself in situations where the fear is previlant. Even though I am always going to be a sailor, I am afraid of sailing alone away from land being within sight. I concoured that fear very efficently.
So. With one phobia checked off, it was time to move on to another.
The summer between Eighth and Ninth Grade, I had a rather horrible motorcycle wreck which would of ended my life if not for myself being extremely lucky and a good helmet. I was hit head on by a Jackson EMC power truck on a deserted dirt road where Banks County and Jackson County meet. My passenger and I were on our way to a "party" (a bunch of socially ostracized teenage boys sitting around drinking stolen Miller High Life bragging about how supposedly cool we are to each other), when in the middle of a sharp curve, I was blind-sided by the truck driver, who was taking a shortcut home.
I swerved as well as I could to avoid the huge truck, but alas, all I did was move our impact from square in the grill to the front corner. My friend at the time, Gary Scales, was thrown into the bushes where his leg was broken by a fence post. I was slammed into the hood which broke my wrist and tossed over the cab. As I was in the air, my left leg was caught by the utility bucket and ripped open. I lost consciousness upon impact with the road as I landed.
When I awoke, Gary was screaming his head off in the bushes. The driver had gotten out and was attending to him since he was closer. I sat up, oblivious to my condition of the time, and tried to get up. I remember trying to dust off a Japanese beetle from my wound but my hand wouldn't work. I could see my femur and the muscles from underneath my shredded jeans. The shock must of not worn off until later because I was clear headed about the whole situation until later in the ambulance. No one else could describe to the operator where we actually were.
Anyway, even since then, I have been deathly afraid of being on another motorcycle. My father and brother have their own. But every time that they suggested that I join them on one of their rides, I would come up with some asinine excuse as to why I wouldn't. Sharon hates them. I don't have the time to ride it. They are not fun. Why would I want a bike when I could just ride in comfort from the driver's seat in the Jeep? But to be honest, every time I would get on something that was not protected by a roll cage, air bags, safety belts, or some other manner of protection I would revert into the same feelings as I did on the ride to the hospital. Everyone on the road is going to hit me and actually kill me this time.
Anyway. I am of the age where I cannot let my fears drive me anymore. When I sold Jenny L, I actually made quite a profit. That windfall bought me a new motorcycle.
Yes, I am still deathly afraid of going into a blind curve. There is one on my way out of Atlanta for the day, just as you pass the Van Leer building. Every time I go through the curve, I get the same cold feeling in my stomach. But, that is something I will work through eventually.
I'm sick of secretly being afraid of certain actions/situations. I should have fought these demons a long time ago. Every step is a step forward...right?
A couple weeks ago, I sold the Jenny L. She was a wonderful ship and I will miss her terribly. There just wasn't enough time to spend with her as needed. When a ship sits in dock, unattended, things have a habit of breaking and ruining other systems onboard. She is currently at a dock somewhere in South Florida with her new owners, who are going to live aboard her as the husband gets his masters degree at UF Maimi. This makes me happy.
The main reason I bought the boat was to prove to myself that any fears can be tamed, if you keep putting yourself in situations where the fear is previlant. Even though I am always going to be a sailor, I am afraid of sailing alone away from land being within sight. I concoured that fear very efficently.
So. With one phobia checked off, it was time to move on to another.
The summer between Eighth and Ninth Grade, I had a rather horrible motorcycle wreck which would of ended my life if not for myself being extremely lucky and a good helmet. I was hit head on by a Jackson EMC power truck on a deserted dirt road where Banks County and Jackson County meet. My passenger and I were on our way to a "party" (a bunch of socially ostracized teenage boys sitting around drinking stolen Miller High Life bragging about how supposedly cool we are to each other), when in the middle of a sharp curve, I was blind-sided by the truck driver, who was taking a shortcut home.
I swerved as well as I could to avoid the huge truck, but alas, all I did was move our impact from square in the grill to the front corner. My friend at the time, Gary Scales, was thrown into the bushes where his leg was broken by a fence post. I was slammed into the hood which broke my wrist and tossed over the cab. As I was in the air, my left leg was caught by the utility bucket and ripped open. I lost consciousness upon impact with the road as I landed.
When I awoke, Gary was screaming his head off in the bushes. The driver had gotten out and was attending to him since he was closer. I sat up, oblivious to my condition of the time, and tried to get up. I remember trying to dust off a Japanese beetle from my wound but my hand wouldn't work. I could see my femur and the muscles from underneath my shredded jeans. The shock must of not worn off until later because I was clear headed about the whole situation until later in the ambulance. No one else could describe to the operator where we actually were.
Anyway, even since then, I have been deathly afraid of being on another motorcycle. My father and brother have their own. But every time that they suggested that I join them on one of their rides, I would come up with some asinine excuse as to why I wouldn't. Sharon hates them. I don't have the time to ride it. They are not fun. Why would I want a bike when I could just ride in comfort from the driver's seat in the Jeep? But to be honest, every time I would get on something that was not protected by a roll cage, air bags, safety belts, or some other manner of protection I would revert into the same feelings as I did on the ride to the hospital. Everyone on the road is going to hit me and actually kill me this time.
Anyway. I am of the age where I cannot let my fears drive me anymore. When I sold Jenny L, I actually made quite a profit. That windfall bought me a new motorcycle.
Yes, I am still deathly afraid of going into a blind curve. There is one on my way out of Atlanta for the day, just as you pass the Van Leer building. Every time I go through the curve, I get the same cold feeling in my stomach. But, that is something I will work through eventually.
I'm sick of secretly being afraid of certain actions/situations. I should have fought these demons a long time ago. Every step is a step forward...right?
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