The Zehl Story

So these are essentially memoirs or an autobiography, but I don't like either of those words, so I'm going to call it a story. And instead of chapters, we'll call the entries what they in fact are: episodes of reflection.

Preface: The Chase Identity

The following table all refers to one individual, though each is a different thread in my personality loom.

Episode 1: Subtle Hints and Intimations of Humor and Lexicon

I'm frequently (self-)admonished for using certain choice four-letter words on a regular basis. It's a habit that I'm trying to kick, so I beg you please bear with me.

I'm a natural goofball, but my humor has been influenced over the years by the repetitious playback of skits and routines from the recorded HBO specials of Robin Williams, Chris Rock, and George Carlin. I have listened to them so many times, in fact, that I have them mostly committed to memory, and will happily begin reciting entire scenes from film and stand-up routines if the feeling is just right.

If I had to describe my wit, it would be with some obtuse analogy, so I won't. Especially as I often recount moments in my life with an eye on the ironic and satirical, and like to draw parallels between my life and a handful of quality Dad jokes. I am known to have told at least a dozen inappropriate or mistimed jokes in my life.

Episode 2: Affirming Chronic Social Isolation

Suffice it to say, I'm not going to go into elaborate detail about my own struggle with mental illness, but I think it is worth saying, and repeating loudly, that social isolation is a part of the collateral complications imposed by prolonged struggles with serious mental illness. There are a number of ways out of that isolation, and you, captive audience, are reading the one that I found works best for me!

Now that I've restored the ability to glimpse a part of my life in the rearview mirror, I can proudly say that it doesn't matter what the diagnosis is, or even if there is one, the struggle is unpalatable, real, and so intrinsically human. The gift of sentience, of self-cognition, could be perturbed like a stone into a placid lake. And we all have, in one way or another, experienced these wave-like particles of struggle, each with their own unique ripples.

Episode 3: A Tale of Cones and Rods

I have a diagnosed, rare (1 in 50,000) inherited retinal dystrophy affecting primarily the cone photoreceptors in the central region of the retina (the part of the eye that detects light). The progressive nature of the tissue degeneration implies I will continue to have problems with acuity and color vision for the foreseeable future.

Congenital ocular motor apraxia is a rare eye movement disorder characterized by an inability to initiate eye movement along the horizontal axis. This means that when I look at something, my head will move to track it while my eyes will stay centered. Extreme nearsightedness (partially corrected) causes me to bring items very close to my face to see; these can make for some awkward moments.

While laser surgery could resolve my issues with refraction, it would have no impact on the atrophied light receptors and therefore is only a question of cosmetic convenience. I do have a white cane and I do use it from time to time when I need to exercise autonomy in mobility.

As one might expect from such a dystrophy, the ability to perceive color is fundamentally impaired, thus my favorite color is the one that I see the most: any shade of gray. I cannot easily, if at all, identify the color of an object on request. I have to rely on circumlocution and other methods of description when detailing what I believe may be a particular color.

Episode 4: A Fifth of Courage

Trust me when I tell you I have a long, sordid history with certain spirits in the bottle, yet I somehow managed to escape that great defeat, and now I am able to extol the benefits of alcohol abstinence. I'm extremely confident in my sobriety, and I don't mind being part of social situations in which alcohol is being consumed. I respect that each adult has to decide for themselves, their level of engagement with intoxicants. Rest assured, I harbor no ill will against those who choose to partake.

There is no respite from the burden of dependence without the will to do so. In June 2021, I found myself at a veritable fork in the road. My better half saw me through a period of difficult transition that culminated in a vow to never again indulge my compulsive tendencies (alcoholism). I testify that it was easier for me to draw a line in the sand and commit to never again than to try to delude myself into believing I was a passive victim in the whole ordeal and that I was controlling my problem.

When I reached the so-called zero-hour or rock-bottom, I knew only that I wanted out of that vicious cycle. I conferred with my better half, who, with grace, helped me to reconcile my emotions and conclude that, finally seeing the forest for the trees, the consequences of inaction were so completely unpalatable as to warrant an unconditional surrender and about-face. I can't say definitely the exact moment that I knew, but once I subconsciously decided to quit, it became infinitely easier to reassure myself that I was indeed capable of disarming addiction.

Each person has within them the ability to create and explore a drastic and pivotal moment in their life -- it's never too late to be accountable to yourself for yourself. I offer unwavering support for the realization of one's will.