Today, my grumpy neighbor with what must be the world’s biggest stick up his keister, aggressively gestured towards me as I entered my neighborhood. Here I was all chipper, returning after being up at 5:30 am to cover a Jiu Jitsu class for a sick instructor. I stayed late at the gym last night reviewing footage of two of my teammates and students. I knew I had to be up early but I really wanted to watch my friends killing it; I was so proud of their progress. And then I stayed up even later when I got home doing laundry, including that of a friend’s who accidentally left her gi at the gym (I didn’t want it sit there overnight and ferment, we had a rough night of rolling!) I didn’t mind at all, I was already laundering the gym towels and all of my gis, might as well toss hers in, and what are friends for? This morning, class went so well helping people prepare for competition and feeling pretty good with the progress that was made. Then I headed to the gym and even helped someone when they asked me a question about working out, which I admired so much as it’s not always easy approaching strangers. So here I am, feeling pretty good with my karmic retribution on helping so many people, strolling into my neighborhood doing 22 where the posted speed limit is 25, and I waved at the man riding his bike. The way he yanked his handlebars and glared vehemently in my direction to tell me to slow down. Clearly, someone didn’t have their Metamucil this morning, and he must think we are back in the days of horse and buggies where you can’t accelerate at all.
I don’t know why this bothered me so much. Perhaps it was because I did nothing wrong, going under the posted speed limit. Or maybe because I was smiling and waving when I am typically not an extroverted individual but always like to be amicable toward my neighbors, only to be met with scorn and admonishment like a disobedient child. Or again it might be because he has done this several times before, including to my husband, when we always extend a helping hand to our neighbors, and ever holiday season I bake holiday cookie trays and drop them off to my whole block. Some people just choose to be miserable, which I must remember is a reflection of them and not of myself. It is weird though, because I had a very restless night’s sleep, and the night terrors that I have suffered from in the past and haven’t dealt with in awhile have ramped up lately, something I confessed to my husband recently. I actually woke up today with a bad feeling that today just wouldn’t be a good day, but I tried to push those intrusive thoughts out of my mind. And even before that unfortunate interaction with Grumpelstilskin, the rear camera in my car decided to go out this morning. Sure, not the end of the world, but an annoying inconvenience to start the day that had me wondering if it’s worth the headache to get fixed.
Speaking of headaches, I’m getting recurring stress headaches from the ongoing arguments with my insurance company and the MRI coverage for my knees. I love how the opioid epidemic is completely forgotten when they’ll approve prescription after prescription of narcotics because the price point is much cheaper than an MRI, but I don’t want pain medication, I want to address the severed ligament in my knees and get them fixed. I’ve been a little stressed out lately, and I try so hard not to let it get to me because overall my life is so good, with great friends and a soulmate of a husband. But I know it has been getting to me with the manifestations of these frequent nightmares, recurring headaches, and if I’m perfectly transparent, bouts of depressive episodes I’ve been fighting. I’ve caught myself more than once lately wanting to turn my phone on ‘do not disturb’ and stay in bed all day. As someone who pretty much never gets sick, I actually had a 3-day cold the other week that had me sick and in bed and forego my responsibilities for once. How bad of me is it to admit that I kind of needed that reprieve? I’ve been so overwhelmed by this knee pain and finding it harder to reign the emotions that go along with it.
Then, to make today even better, I received an email from the. absolutely corrupt NYSAC that they’re overturning my win from my fight exactly one year ago to a TKO loss. The commission went to bat for a racist, anti-semitic ex-pornstar to argue in court whether the knee landed, and despite testimony from the officiating referee himself, the call got overturned. Meanwhile there are several cases against NYSAC for being corrupt, including the director herself being accused of hiring people unqualified for the job simply for being her friends. Those who oversaw the case were all her coworkers employed by NYSAC and investigating themselves by the way, so not sure how unbiased this can really be, but then again, I am not sure anyone who works in politics or government really ever is. I can’t even get my rematch with my stupid blown out knees. While she gets kicked out of multiple gyms, has a history of racist and anti-semitic remarks (why people keep allowing her mat space blows my mind), and somehow things still end up in her favor. And it’s terrible too, because I can say without one iota of a doubt that the two of us aren’t even remotely on the same level of skill. She is so far beneath me that she had to resort to cheating with missing weight, a corrupt promotion, and illegal blows, and was still getting dominated, but yet the fight now gets overturned and it looks like I lost. I have never been more tired of fighting in my life. Fighting to try and and have the right thing done. Why? Work hard, bust your butt, play fair, make the weight, play by the rules, have the referee testify on your behalf, for what? To be vilified by corruption and politics and for nothing to matter anyway?
Things may not matter, but I’m still never going to resort to cheating, or lying, or being a grumpy ass old man who can’t smile and wave at his neighbors. Or being an openly hateful racist cheater with zero repercussions. Or lying about promising to help you get ready for a competition if you help them only to never to return to the gym again. I guess there are some people in the world who don’t ever worry about karma, or if there is a heaven or a hell, or being punished in the next life, or even about hurting people’s freaking feelings. Because that sucks too, and I know I am certainly not perfect, but I feel absolutely terrible if I hurt someone’s feelings and will always try to make it up to them while others seem to relish in trying to make Sam cry. So though it’s true what they say, when it rains it pours, I will still smile and wave to my neighbors, I will still play by the rules, I will still offer to stay late, help others prepare, cover classes, and sacrifice my time whether anything gets reciprocated or not. Because there are rough times, sure. But then I have these great moments too, like when my father-in-law called me the other day in the most jovial voice imaginable just to make sure I’d be home next Monday to receive a perishable package he’s sending us in the mail, and you know what? I’ll take the asshole neighbors, the broken car camera, the stupid insurance company, the corrupt state of New York, the quell of my once love of fighting, the people who’ve crushed my spirit and hurt my feelings; if I get to have people as good as him in my life. Any maybe, just maybe, that’s my karma.
