Transcending Limits

第28話 Groove of life

As I reached the final stage of my training in Kishiwada, the old man told me, "Agriculture won't sustain you in the future." He advised me to turn my side job into my main source of income. Upon hearing this, my blood boiled, wondering what the purpose of the training had been.

After the training concluded, I found myself stressed, perhaps due to overexertion or maybe because I had stopped Koda Therapy and indulged in seafood. This led to another manic episode.

This time, I was put under house arrest. With this being my second bout of mania, my medication was increased, making it harder on my body. Once the mania subsided, I resolved to exercise. I mustered the determination to go to the civic gym, but I ended up just staring blankly while others worked out. Additionally, whether due to medication side effects or not, I experienced impotence.

Seniors told me, "That's no good. A man's confidence lies in his manhood." However, I replied, "Well, maybe that's why I can't get an erection with the medication," but he insisted, "No, that won't do." Yet, there are some things that are just beyond our control. When I consulted a doctor, I was told not to give up, and I was prescribed medication for erectile dysfunction, which turned out to be completely ineffective.

From this period of house arrest, 20 years have passed. The Great East Japan Earthquake occurred, followed by the Lehman Shock in the United States. America established diplomatic relations with Cuba, Abenomics took place, and North Korea became a nuclear-armed nation, among other events.

Apart from part-time jobs at the post office and working in the call center for the National Tax Agency's tax returns, I dabbled in the social network MIXI and watched YouTube. While the aforementioned news left an impression, I wasn't particularly interested in anything else. I simply waited for the end to come.

However, what shocked me was the Sagamihara Stabbings at the disability facility. It was a mass murder incident that took place at the Kanagawa Prefecture-run Tsukui Yamayurien, a facility for intellectually disabled individuals. The perpetrator, Satoshi Uematsu, has been sentenced to death. It's a case that raises questions about whether it was an event caused by mental disorders or not. However, I must say, what was Uematsu's attending physician doing? They're quite skilled at avoiding responsibility.

Amidst this, I received an email through Facebook from a Japanese woman living in Las Vegas, asking if I had played the guitar at the Angus-hosted blues jam session in Las Vegas. When I answered yes, I received another email from Angus's ex-wife, who organized the jam session over there. She was a shy person, timidly playing the tambourine at the edge of the stage, but to my surprise, in the cover photo, she had become a drummer, and with an incredibly serious expression, she was pounding away.

As I exchanged emails, I recalled feeling like my brain had been activated when I was practicing the basic drum technique called Paradiddle before I went to the United States. That memory prompted me to start practicing again. As I began my practice, I felt my brain being stimulated, and at the same time, I started practicing in my own way, laughing and pondering various things. It reminded me that before I quit the think tank, I aspired to be a drummer. I took lessons from Yamaha for a year, but my right wrist started to hurt. When I applied for a leave of absence, I was told it wasn't possible. They asked me to quit and pay the enrollment fee again, so I quit immediately.

Around that time, I happened to listen to a bluesy cover of Lucio Dalla's Caruso played by Neil Schon, the guitarist of Journey. This inspired me to pick up the guitar again. However, my memory was fading, and I kept playing the same old tunes. And still, I was more captivated by the sound of drums than the guitar. But, as I've mentioned numerous times, there's an issue with my lower back. It's as if I'm channeling stress from a malfunction into the drums. However, the pain in my wrists disappeared, so now I'm attending Kawai's music school, where I can take breaks.

Abruptly, in the previous chapter, I wrote, "It's okay not to have a meaning to live." There's a song called "Soubou," which means "people," by the singer-songwriter Tatsuro Yamashita. The lyrics go, "I just want to keep waiting for the meaning of continuing to live, 'To find out the truth of life,'" and it made me contemplate. Anyway, this song resonates in my heart.

However, even if people say there's no meaning in continuing to live, Yamashita himself states in the last lyrics of the song, "Let's make a love again and again," so his answer is clear. It's about creating children. By the way, it's impossible for me because the medication has teratogenic effects on my sperm. The meaning of my continuing to live lies in fighting my illness. It's an incurable disease, so I can't conquer it. I'm getting along with it as best as I can, but I really don't want to deal with this messed-up illness!

Since the onset of bipolar disorder, I've mainly been idling about. I've relied solely on disability pensions, but if I don't do something, I'll lose the groove of life. Recently, I've started doing simple office work. And of course, it's music. That's the ticket.

FIN

In creating this work, I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to Kakuyomu, who provided the platform.

January 2023

Hiroshi Kafuku