How mixed martial arts saved me
James Anderson
Issue date: 11/19/09 Section: Opinion
I lay dormant on the rough, sweaty canvas. I could feel hot blood stream down my upper lip to pool next to my slack jaw. My saliva-coated mouth piece skewed half out of my mouth. I could hear my corner men miles above me, trying to coax me to stand up. My eyes are open, but I cannot see - I cannot move.
It took me a few minutes to regain enough motor skills to stand on my wobbly legs and lumber to the doorway of the octagon-shaped chain link cage. The roar of cheers reverberated through my numb head. Leaning on my corner men, I made my way to the men's locker room where they put me in the shower to rinse off the excess blood. They were talking to me, but I don't remember what they said.
Experiencing the euphoria of adrenaline, I laughed about what just happened. I'd just been knocked unconscious and had my nose fractured in a mixed martial arts match.
But I survived it. I knew I could make myself do anything that I'd set my mind to. After having gone through this experience and giving my all, I'd earned my self-trust to overcome my demons.
Life was different before I became aware of my various shadows. I laughed and played; oblivious to their presence. My priority was to have a good time. Even though I'd hurt some people along the way, I didn't dwell on it. I didn't take the time for this kind of reflection. I didn't want that.
At some point, I came to realize the spiritual hole that I'd dug myself into. The artificial reality that alcohol had fabricated for me dissipated and left me with an abrupt truth. I became aware of all of the time, effort and passion that I'd squandered while the rest of the functional world was evolving and thriving.
However deceitful my addiction was, it was still my haven. It was where I had always returned to when I was threatened by reality. Without it, I was vulnerable.
Within six months of giving up alcohol, I quit smoking. I was grasping for something that wasn't there yet. I had a terrible void in my life that had to be filled with something as intense and satisfying as my addiction was.
It took me a few minutes to regain enough motor skills to stand on my wobbly legs and lumber to the doorway of the octagon-shaped chain link cage. The roar of cheers reverberated through my numb head. Leaning on my corner men, I made my way to the men's locker room where they put me in the shower to rinse off the excess blood. They were talking to me, but I don't remember what they said.
Experiencing the euphoria of adrenaline, I laughed about what just happened. I'd just been knocked unconscious and had my nose fractured in a mixed martial arts match.
But I survived it. I knew I could make myself do anything that I'd set my mind to. After having gone through this experience and giving my all, I'd earned my self-trust to overcome my demons.
Life was different before I became aware of my various shadows. I laughed and played; oblivious to their presence. My priority was to have a good time. Even though I'd hurt some people along the way, I didn't dwell on it. I didn't take the time for this kind of reflection. I didn't want that.
At some point, I came to realize the spiritual hole that I'd dug myself into. The artificial reality that alcohol had fabricated for me dissipated and left me with an abrupt truth. I became aware of all of the time, effort and passion that I'd squandered while the rest of the functional world was evolving and thriving.
However deceitful my addiction was, it was still my haven. It was where I had always returned to when I was threatened by reality. Without it, I was vulnerable.
Within six months of giving up alcohol, I quit smoking. I was grasping for something that wasn't there yet. I had a terrible void in my life that had to be filled with something as intense and satisfying as my addiction was.
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