Au revoir, mon amis.

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I am number seven of seven.   Born in the mid '60s in the midst of Beatlemania and Bill Cosby, before it became known decades later that he... well, you know.   But I was a big fan of things like Johnny Cash's TV show, Ed Allen's Morning Workout ("...and don't forget your homework!"), The Six Million Dollar Man, Spiderman cartoons, Nutchos chocolates, a faux chocolate bar named Danish, chocolate peanut butter marshmallow squares, playing baseball with my friends in the Dud James Arena parking lot along with makeshift squash with a tennis racket and tennis ball against that building, chasing baseballs for two bucks a game which would buy me a pop, bar, comic book and chips, going to Dominion grocery store with Mom or Dad, riding my bike, watching kids play in Kiwanis Pool which I became deathly afraid of - but I still liked to see other kids having fun.  I even gained an appreciation for Englebert Humperdinck, who was Mom's favorite.  I think her listening ...
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Full disclosure here, being my rather ultra-personal blog.... That last post, simply saying "Au revoir, mon amis", is a timestamp for me .   I had another breakdown about a week ago.  I will not get into details of it like I used to, because these things will not define me anymore.  I have an illness; a disability that hinders how I process things.  And I think it's important to recognize that for myself, but even greater, how I didn't just get knocked down hard, but I got up long before the ten count to fight another day.  This is another day. Something that I'm making myself realize now is, that after a lifetime of dealing with my own unique circumstances, I have to recognize the signs along the way of what I am dealing with.  My current conclusion, if that's even the appropriate description, is that this illness is something that needs to be negotiated with, not necessarily fought.  My condition is like an old dying tree - it might appear to be...
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