Identity

Have a bite

Update: When I wrote this, I had just passed 30 hours without tics. This morning it’s over 48 hours and still counting.

Life is good. And better all the time, just like it should be. If our purpose here on Earth is not to be happy, I don’t care to know The Plan behind it all.

Yesterday I was talking on the phone with my  friend Randy Hauer. After making small talk and laughing about the high drama of life on the Internet–I’m told that I’ve recently been compared to “A poison apple,” which is actually pretty catchy–Randy asked:

“How’s the grand Tourette’s experiment going?”

I started to answer reflexively, and then I stopped and laughed. “Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I told someone I had Tourette’s. Not in our first meeting.”

A huge shift

When I used to meet people, this is the little speech I usually gave:

I’m Josh. I’ve got Tourette’s Syndrome. If you’ve even seen What About Bob (I’d probably substitute South Park these days) you’ve probably heard of it. You might see or hear me do some weird stuff. Sorry if it annoys you. It annoys me too. Ha ha ha.

What a script…and at that point, I’d either have tics and people would know what was happening, or I would have an okay time and people would feel let down by the non-event.

It was always easier to make the speech once, at the beginning of the meeting, than to try to back up and explain if things got exciting during the meeting. “Oh, by the way…I do this stuff.”

But when Randy asked me, I realized just what a huge shift has taken place. I still have bad days, but my worst days now are nothing compared to what my worst days were then.

More importantly, I’ve realized that I no longer identify myself with the disorder. It may always be a part of me, but it was an incredible realization to hear myself thinking, I’m just Josh. I’m no longer Josh with Tourette’s.

I had been wrong about everything.

September of 2009: Strength Training 101

When I went to Minot to train with Adam for a week, he sized up the situation with my (quite terrible at the moment) tics and said, “We’ll fix this within a year.”

Can you guess what I thought?

I immediately thought: Who does this arrogant f***think he is? This incurable neurological disorder is going to go away because this ugly bastard kid can lift a bunch of weight on one finger? I’m glad this idiot is locked away in a basement in Minot.

Not me at my best.

I’ve never been so happy to be wrong

It’s been over two days since I had a tic.

As little as one year ago, I wondered if I would ever be able to sit still for five seconds. I’d been trying for nearly 27 years, after all.

It’s been over two days since I had a tic. (Unless you count the fact that I’m compulsively typing “It’s been over two days since I had a tic.”

I have more energy. I’m happier. I’m moving better and that means I’m thinking better. I sleep more. I’m of more use to other people.

I could have ignored him

I almost did.

I could have said, “No, I’m right, you’ll see. This will last forever. It’s just the way it is.” But why? To prove what point? That he was wrong and I could spend the rest of my life stuck, just like the doctors all told me?

I’ll take being happy, strong, healthy, and more than two days without tics over being right every time.

Josh

Bite the poison apple,  Subscribe to my RSS feed.

And if you really think you’re cool, Subscribe to my Newsletter.

Tagged as: articles, Gym Movement