Boots and Blood

I, as do many (or all) people in the world take their fair share of hits. Yesterday I officially had my driver's license taken away because of the ill-control of my seizures. I haven't driven in months; actually it's more like a year, but I always had the little card in my pocket that defined me as a normal citizen that had the same rights as an average "everyday" person in the community.

Instead I got an Illinois State ID. This is basically used for buying alcohol or returning an item to a store. I'm traveling next week, so I'll need it for the airport security, but vacations like this hardly ever happen for me. I know this sounds like a miniature thing to be upset about but it hit me in just the right spot.

I've been having small seizures every now and then but the VNS seems to be taking care of them pretty well. My mood is improving, but like I said in earlier posts; it could be my new job, money, a sense of security, etc.

Yesterday night, after the whole ID thing and I got back from work, Sara and I went on a walk (we've been doing this more and more lately). I strapped on my new Dr. Marten boots, thinking the walk would help break them in.

As most of you know, I only wear Dr. Marten shoes and boots... the English made versions. There's so much I love about them; they have a romantic-type vibe... after a couple months the shoe becomes a part of the wearer. I've said in the past... I find myself looking at a new pair and wondering; "Where are these shoes going to take me? What will happen to me? What will I see? How will I feel?" It's sounds cheesy but I just love the thought of a footstep. Sometimes I'll walk around my building or work or wherever and I'll see one of my old footprints in the dirt or snow. What an amazing thing.

Anyway, I was walking with these new boots and like a lot of new shoes, especially Dr Martens, they hurt like hell the first couple of "wears." After a couple blocks around the neighborhood I felt a pop on my heal and could feel the hard leather cut into my skin. I walked through the pain knowing full well that I was bleeding pretty bad.

While this was happening a large storm was creeping into the area and it was getting darker and darker. We started walking faster... further cutting the leather into my heal. I wanted to take a mental picture of this moment. The pain, the storm. I felt so alive!!

We made it home just as it started pouring rain. I opened all the windows to cool down the apartment and as the stormy breeze filled the room I slowly removed the boot from my foot. My sock was full of blood and Sara got me a wipe and a bandage. I felt great... about the whole day... it was like I had a new life in just a few hours.

After my heal was taken care of I looked into the boot an noticed that the whole inside section on the boot's leather was soaked in blood. It was dark and.......... just beautiful. Those shoes took me somewhere yesterday and now I have proof. Did I think when I bought those boots that they would make me bleed... turning my mind away from the horrible thoughts that would enter my brain that day?

All of this sounds obtuse but it makes so much sense to me. The storm, boots, blood and pain. It felt a lot like life all wrapped up into an hour-and-a-half.