Getting Back Up

     

A lot has happened since my last Life Is a Storm entry.

I don't even know where to begin.

The last entry was about my exploration of the transition between life and death.

And then I almost died.

I was struck by a truck at an intersection. My vehicle was destroyed, and that's why everything came to a pause here on Life Is a Storm.

The moment I was struck was surreal.

I saw the vehicle headed toward me. I couldn't do anything about it. It struck me, then plummeted into a pole and flipped over, facing the opposite direction from where it had been flying from.

There's a lot I'm upset about regarding that incident, accident, occurrence—whatever you want to call it.

All I know is those little dweebs driving that vehicle came out unscathed and laughing about the whole thing like it was a big joke.

Yet they destroyed my life.

They injured me. They destroyed my vehicle, my transportation and my employment.

And for some reason, they were able to laugh.

I think it was a bunch of BS.

It turns out they were visiting from out of town. Of course, it was Fourth of July weekend, so I'm sure they were here partying.

Me?

I was in my vehicle with my security signs still on it and my amber light because I had come off a weekend shift of working.

Not partying.

So yeah, I'm upset about that.

Collision at 1069 & Wheeler — July 6, 2026

A lot of things came to a halt. A lot of changes had to be made.

To make matters worse, the other vehicle we have in the house had just left us stranded on the side of the road. We were able to fill it up with water and finally get it home, where it still rests, unmoved. We believe it may be a bad head gasket situation. I'm not sure if there's anything worse going on with it or if there's anything we can do about it currently.

But it remains sitting.

And then we had another vehicle destroyed and sitting inside an impound.

So yeah.

That happened all at once.

No transportation.

Both vehicles out at the same time.

My health wasn't in good shape either.

I've been doing physical therapy for the past few weeks. I did get checked, and all of my labs came back decent. My A1C is in a much better range. I brought it down from 11.9 to 6.5.

And I'm going to work to get it back into the normal range.

6.5 is a great improvement in a little over three months.

Recent Laboratory Results — Specimens Collected July 29, 2026

I've also been able to reconnect with a healthcare professional from my past who I hope can help me again with the same issue I've been dealing with for years.

Before the pandemic, when I was living in San Antonio, I found a physiotherapist named Elise Holmes. She's now a doctor I've learned.

I've always had back issues prior, and when I went to see her, I was in crazy, enormous pain. I had already been suffering for a while.

She assessed me, put her hands on the area that was giving me problems and confidently told me:

"I know what this is, and I can fix it."

And she did some manual work on me. I did a few exercises.

By the time I left that clinic, I was walking out like nothing had ever been wrong with me.

I was amazed, surprised and ecstatic.

I went to my next session, and that went well too.

Then the pandemic happened.

The clinic closed, I eventually left San Antonio, and suddenly there was time and distance between me and the person who had looked at an issue I'd been struggling with and confidently told me she knew what it was and could fix it.

Years went by.

I tried finding her again. She had moved from that clinic to another company. I tried contacting her there, but they required me to live in San Antonio because they made house calls. On top of that, I had to be within a certain San Antonio ZIP code.

There wasn't much I could do.

Recently, because I've been suffering again, I reached out to her new company.

This time, they were able to establish a connection between Elise and me.

And she agreed to help me.

I'm going to be in San Antonio beginning in January for massage school, which gives me the opportunity to finally receive treatment from her again.

So the ball is rolling.

I'm going to become a patient of the company and, more importantly to me, a patient of Elise again.

I'm very happy about reconnecting with her.

Hopefully, we can finally correct this issue I've struggled with for years—the way we intended to all those years ago before the pandemic interrupted everything.

And yes, that also means I'm going to massage school.

I start in January.

I'll be staying in San Antonio for about four months for the hands-on portion of the program. The other three months will be online for the book work and everything else that can be completed remotely.

The school is also offering tuition forgiveness if I make myself available for the required hours during those four months and maintain the required grades.

So January has quite a bit attached to it.

Massage school.

Four months in San Antonio.

And finally getting treatment again from my long-lost physiotherapist.

There are other things happening with school too.

I received a scholarship for an online course with NYU to complete a modern journalism certification.

So, yeah.

I'm currently an online student at NYU.

Still, that's quite a name to have on your résumé and under your belt.

That's something I'm probably going to start working on soon.

I'm also deciding to finally finish my 250-hour yoga teacher certification.

I'm only two payments away from completely paying it off.

The funny thing is that I've barely gotten 20 percent into the actual course.

But maybe now that I'm severely needing yoga myself, I can start taking the schooling seriously and actually finish what I started.

It's a work in progress.

Maybe sometime within the next few months I'll be a certified yoga teacher too.

Yesterday was my mom's birthday.

It sucked.

While I was at the bank that morning getting a card replaced that I had lost, I like to think she sent me a message.

Dido's "Thank You" came on overhead.

I pulled out my phone to record it.

My mom loved Dido. She loved that song.

Maybe that was a message from her to me on her birthday.

But that message isn't enough.

I'd rather have her here.

It's not right.

It's something I refuse.

It sure was one hell of a coincidence.

But at the same time, I don't believe anything is a coincidence anymore.

I think we truly know deep inside what things really are.

We know.

It's inside of us.

We can feel it.

We just question it.

I need to stop questioning myself and tap into that power I have inside of me. That intuition I've always had.

Because when I listen to my intuition, it always leads me right.

And when I don't, I get led astray.

I'm starting to lean extraordinarily strongly toward manifestation.

There's a lot of stuff—even the accident—that occurred that I think has a lot to do with it.

When you manifest something, you're not really thinking about how it's going to get done. You just have to know it's going to get done.

The how is not our concern.

That's what I'm learning.

How it gets executed isn't our concern. It's the belief that it will be executed. That it will be accomplished. That it will be manifested.

So even though things may look bad, things are working for my good.

I've also learned something else.

Deep inside, you know.

You have to start relying on your senses—not your physical senses, but your internal senses.

Your gut. Which I believe is discernment. 

I learned that from Sister Mary, that Christian psychic I mentioned in a previous entry, and then from other sources. She was one of them.

It was more like she taught me a lesson in those few minutes that I talked to her.

She nudged my thoughts when she said:

"You know what that was."

And from that point, I realized that we know inside what something is.

We just question it because, for some reason, it doesn't make sense to our logical mind.

But we have to trust our gut.

Even though the accident occurred, everything happened, and suddenly I was basically on foot, I'm not actually on foot anymore.

That's another story.

Right now, I have a vehicle that I purchased really quickly so I wouldn't be without transportation. But my father and I have to share it, and this vehicle is a mess.

I don't know.

It just doesn't feel that safe.

But we're using it, and it's getting us from Point A to Point B.

It has wheels. You can put gas in it. It'll take you where you need to go.

It shakes. I think it has an alignment issue. It favors the left side. The windows don't go down that great. There's a lot of stuff going on with it, even with the seats.

But it's wheels.

And it came from someone who wasn't even selling their vehicle but offered it to me right away.

Here I am trying again.

And in the midst of all this pain and turmoil, I somehow managed to pump out a song.

I'll be recording it under my Los Official artist name, a name I had already thought I had put to rest.

I guess I'm going to keep Los Official alive for all of my Latin pop work.

Unfortunately, all of my other music projects—the ones that are still under wraps—are on hold.

And that really sucks.

Those projects are also something that keeps me holding on to this realm because I want to realize them. I want to record every single one of those songs.

I need to put them out.

For now, though, I had to tell the producers I've been working with that everything has to be put on hold for a while.

I did finally find studios where I'm ready to record when I'm able to get everything moving again. Actually, I found a couple of them.

The studio I typically go to, Metropolis, has still been dragging its feet. I have a good relationship with them, but they were under renovations, time has gone by, and then, of course, this whole accident happened.

At this point, even if they called me tomorrow and told me they were ready for me, I'm not ready now.

But whenever I am ready, I've found another recording studio I'm looking into in Corpus and another in San Antonio. I'm going to give both of them a shot once everything is up and going again.

One is local. One is far.

We'll see how that goes.

For now, I'm just going to be trying to recuperate.

And now, finally, I'm getting back to my keyboard.

Putting my thoughts down.

Getting back up.

It's been difficult.

And if I'm going to write about all of this, I have to be real about that too.

I just said there's power in our words.

I believe that.

But I also want to be real and true—not only to this blog, but to myself.

When that truck was coming toward me and I saw it plowing into me, there was a moment when I was okay with it.

I was fine with it.

And when it didn't take me out, I was upset that it didn't.

Even between then and now, there have been many times when I've struggled with being upset that I'm still here.

I've struggled with that while also thinking about the people I am still here for.

I'm here for my loved ones who are still here.

I'm here for my dad.

I'm here for Monkey.

I'm here for the people in my life that I care about and love.

And that's still hard.

Because it's hard to be here knowing that my mother is gone.

Both of those things are true.

Another thing I've learned through all of this is that we have to watch what we say.

Those of us who have accepted Christ and have the Holy Spirit within us have authority.

The power is in our words.

We have authority.

Demons tremble.

Words have power.

What we focus on is important too.

The focus gets the attention.

So we have to be careful about what gets our attention.

A lot has happened since the last time I sat down to write Life Is a Storm.

I almost died.

I lost my vehicle.

My transportation disappeared.

My employment was affected.

My health and my body have required attention.

I spent my mom's birthday without her.

I've been forced to make changes.

I've been forced to keep moving.

I'm going to NYU online.

I'm finishing my yoga teacher certification.

I'm going to massage school in January.

I've reconnected with the physiotherapist I've been trying to find my way back to for years.

I'm making music again.

And here I am.

Finally back at the keyboard.

Putting my thoughts down.

Getting back up.

Lots to do.