I’ve been in a weird mood all weekend. It was home coming at school and it meant that we had no punishments, no restrictions. For those scratching their heads I go to a military college. Whenever you break the rules you get punished. I’m always in trouble. I’m not a bad guy, if you ask anyone from back home they’ll probably tell you how nice I am (or at least I hope they would). I just have trouble marching to the same beat as everyone else here. I’ve learned in my time as a cadet that that I can have major issues with authority figures (mostly just here though). So because of this I’ve spent most of my college career confined to campus. People usually ask how I like going to school in Charleston. My normal response is couldn’t really tell you I’ve spent most of my time here trapped in the barracks. So I relish the opportunity to go out on leave. Unfortunately it always seems that my relationship with Charleston is a constant case of Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Every time I try to have fun it either doesn’t live up to expectations or it turns into a horrible time. Every time I decide to take it easy and go back to school I miss the most epic experiences. That’s exactly what happened these past two weekends. I went out to have a fun evening two weekends ago and it really sucked. I’m in a weird mood this past Saturday and call it an early night and I miss a wild time at the strip club and skinny dipping later that evening. It doesn’t help that I haven’t been physically intimate with anyone since early July, the last girlfriend I had broke my heart and the girl I would like to date is states away. Suffice to say it just seems like I can’t win. So missing out on the good times has me really bummed out, and being here at this school and in this city is just aggravating. Today was much like the rest of the weekend where I am just angry and depressed for no reason. But something clicked in class when I was writing down my thoughts. I remembered something I read in “Got Fight” by Forrest Griffon, and that was to “fake it until you make it.” So with that in mind I went about the rest of my day. After my favorite class, Photography, I grabbed my friend Trent and went to the mat room at our campus workout facility. We spent an hour wrestling around, mostly me just tossing him about the room. I’m a former division 1 wrestler, he’s never wrestled in his life other than the times I’ve spent coaching him in prior years for short periods of time. But it felt good to be back on the mat. I gave him free reign to elbow, punch, head-butt etc. to even up the odds and because I wasn’t just looking to pummel someone. I needed a good smack in the face. It ended with him puking a couple times into the trash barrel (New England term for trash can) and me with a slightly sore jaw. But I felt good. I felt right. I haven’t really enjoyed myself wrestling in years. I’ve enjoyed coaching but personally getting in a roll I haven’t really enjoyed since high school. I was sloppy and it wasn’t much of a challenge, no offense to my friend, but it felt like the old me. This last semester and really these past few years have been a roller coaster of ups and downs for me. Every day is a struggle. There is no guarantee that this positive feeling will last or that I’ll stay consistent with this wrestling but I got a glimpse of the old Derek today and that gives me hope of getting back to normal.
Nothing like a good smack in the head…
