The Triumphant Return for 2022. In this episode we discuss my recent battle with Covid, rediscovering passion, and turning off social media.

Welcome back to the ROX-TV website. I’ve taken a short hiatus and have been unable to do what I enjoy best and that of course is to write and record. This time around the suspect has been America’s most recent three-year nightmare…Divoc (Covid, but for a general disrespect and putdown, I wrote it backwards). By now I think it would be impossible to find a single person in this country who hasn’t had their life seriously impacted by the shit. I won’t get into the politics or the different avenues leading to and from the treatment, prevention, and what not. I try to keep ROX-TV as neutral as possible and focus only on media and entertainment. But I can still bitch about it and due to my recent absence at the website, I think it’s only fair. Besides it gives me something to write about and start the machine moving again.

As I dust the…well dust from my keyboard, bear with me as I try to find my rhythm again. I know it’s like riding a bike, but my hands are a little stiff, like the tin man in a down pour. Beyond the Divoc, I also have some other shit on my mind, which centers on social media or at least my presence there. I will be touching down on that subject, in much the same light as the Divoc. I can only speak from my perspective and that doesn’t mean anything except how the outlet affects my own shit. I make no judgements and as always, encourage everyone to do what they do best, the way they know how. Everyone is welcome here, regardless of where you come from or what your background is. ROX-TV is a place that embraces individualism (no matter what that may mean to you, there is a spot on the little yellow bus for you here). So, without further to do, it’s time to cast this January voyage off from the dock. Talley-Ho!!!

It all started when…

Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but at some point in early January things felt a little off. I guess everyone has been there at some interval, where the good time feelings start to seep out of the room and this other “feeling” slowly rolls in like fog off the lake. I think deep down inside, everyone dreads the S-Word for a few reasons. Coming down with a sickness of any kind is shitty enough, but in this new world we live in, thanks to Divoc…getting ill comes with a lot of dread and negative connotations.

I suppose there is a sort of innocent denial in the beginning. I don’t know about the readers, but there are days for me when I just don’t feel as good as I used to. Years of running hard and burning the candle at three ends, has left me questioning some of my choices. Some days, even when I’m feeling OK normally, I have doubts about the whole situation. With life and time, come experience and I’ve learned that mornings can be harder than they used to be even if I didn’t “do” anything the previous night. You could say that I’m talking about the aging process, and you would be right.

When I was a child and even well into my twenties, the only times I really felt bad was when the flu rolled into town (which it did fairly consistently and with some heavy effects of its own) or I began to develop a chronic brown bottle flu later on. Those were the only times I really ever felt bad physically. I would listen to older people complain about “getting old” but I thought it was bullshit. I guess I thought at the time, as long as the package and wrapping looked normal, then the insides were the same way. This train of thought highlighted my youth at the time, but I would learn someday, just like anyone reading this under twenty-four will someday find out. In a nutshell, getting up in years can be a shit ride. I don’t have time to address that as well so I will transition back to my original point of this article.

Where was I? Oh yes, feeling a bit off. For a couple days I tried to think of other things, take my mind off the feeling. I’ve been in this boat before and most of the time, I can motor threw the hard times and over the day, my inner peace improves. Well, this time it was different.

Bad to worse

An hour passed by, then a day…these feelings were increasing although at that point it was just a feeling. The more serious aspects of the Divoc had yet to arrive. The real problems started when my kids and wife started to somehow be affected by the same feeling. The sniffles show came to town, the body aches, the blasted fatigue, and that internal “oh shit” alarm started to sound.

A few home tests later and boom, Divoc had struck again, literally. My family and I had contracted Divoc in those early months of 2020 before the five-alarm bell had been ringing nationally. In those early days of the Divoc, we went to the urgent care on the parkway and although the doctor wasn’t sure what was afflicting us, we were given massive steroid shots and an inhaler to see us through.

(Author’s Note: This first dance with Divoc was very heavy, making breathing nearly impossible at a certain point. The endless cough with nothing to show for it. The fever and the other nine yards of miserable. After the steroids, we improved quickly and returned to a full recovery. Only when the Divoc symptoms were published a short time later, did we realize that we had contracted Divoc. It went through my kids’ school rapidly and within a week or so, as many as ten kids a day were home sick from school. It ravaged the community pretty quick from then on.)

The steroids were critical in turning the corner. After we all had the Divoc, we took a few different approaches moving forward. I believe in the HIPPA Laws, even today so I won’t say exactly what precautions we took or who took what, but the vaccine was introduced and taken. That, along with the body’s natural immune system blazing, I figured my family was safe from more shit. As of late, the whole conversation has turned into a political wedge designed to divide and conquer the American People, so I won’t take a side or cast any opinions. We just moved on with our lives, doing the best we could. Until January of 2022 rolled around that is. The trouble seemed to be back, although far less severe and troubling as the first time around. Unlike the first dance, nothing more was required except riding the storm. I used my steroid inhaler again and got through it the best I could.

The affects were still a game changer as far as productivity was concerned, along with the responsibility not to get anyone else infected. My kids were given a two-week order from the school to stay home, my wife was allowed to work only from home, and pretty much everything was disrupted. You don’t realize how important the mundane is until you can no longer participate. The ride continued with everyone sidelined for the time being.

Fallout

You know you’re sick when you can’t do the things you love. I was there man and it couldn’t have come at a worse time. The Rude Boy and I had been planning on a book release party in Indiana to support “My Life The Funhouse” but I had to pull out at the last minute. That really bummed me out, but sometimes nothing else can be done. As the readers from the website would also learn over the coming days, the articles stopped as well. This isn’t exclusively about Divoc, because as a writer and also a person who has difficult times here and there, the words just won’t come when they don’t want to.

The feeling of being stalled out was in full swing and went from lousy to extremely shitty when I developed a problem with two of my teeth. I will spare the readers that portion of the story just because, but my writing life really started to suffer. I felt bad enough that I didn’t even care. I knew the feelings would pass, but I just didn’t know how long it would take. The new developments landed me back in the urgent care, but little could be done without seeing a specialist. (I know, lots of old people talk about health issues, but hey…I guess I’m fucking old so fuck off). My writing hold was extended.

Un-intended Consequences

Like with anything else in life, things that affect us in one way or another, have a tendency to bleed into other districts of our worlds. For me, this was certainly a game changer in the area of social media. For the record, I was born in 1980 and came of age in the mid 90’s. I knew life before there was any social media, hell there were hardly any phones that weren’t connected to the wall, restricted by a long chord to boot. There was no internet, and I didn’t grow up with technology that blended into my social life. Back in the day, life was outside of the front door and that was it.

The moment I walked outside, the government, my parents, and anyone else had no idea where the fuck I was and you know what? That feeling was really good. I had time to be me and not be constantly monitored in one form or another by whoever. I was free and to be honest, I’ve missed that feeling lately. Sometimes its ok to be out of reach, and sometimes its ok to get lost for a bit. For me personally, sometimes for a while. With constant interruptions into your world, you don’t get a chance to ponder who you are, what you’re doing on earth, or just have some peace.

When I got sick and ill from health issues, I shut off my phone, killed the computer, and just decided to work on getting into a better space. I hate to say this, but a part of me that had been “dead” for a long time, slowly started to come back to life. It took a few days to adjust, but then became just as sweet as a balloon full of medical grade nitrous.

I started to re-evaluate my life, the constant distractions of social media, and a lot of other shit. Somewhere out in the fog, I found myself again and I liked it. Within a couple of days, I decided that I would embrace the old me, at least as much as possible and the first thing that I was to kill was my social media footprint. Everyone is different and so is our circumstances, so I won’t touch that area in general terms. But I made the decision to kill my IG account. For no reason other than I liked not having to manage the shit. I enjoyed not self-monitoring myself for the world and the United States government. I made hundreds of great connections on IG, but from my perspective…the totality of the commitment was something I no longer cared to play with.

I opened up the computer and completed the painstaking steps to remove IG from my life. It hadn’t been all bad, and some of it had been instrumental in doing the things I wanted to last year. I met some dope people from around the country and established some serious connections in regard to the writing. With that being said though, my life was missing something, and I had found it. That time and space where I was free to be lost among my own thoughts, the God damn privacy was beautiful.

Not only did I kill off the IG account, I also started shutting off my cell phone for intervals as well, including the computer log out. I was off the grid again, kind of like the 90’s or as close as I could get. The piece of mind was really heavy and at least for the time being, I’m going to lean into for as long as it feels right.

Conclusion

Final thoughts? Well, I think I covered it above pretty well. I’m back and writing again, which makes me the happiest of all. To all 1,500 followers I apologize for the abrupt disconnect but after reading this article, I hope it will make more sense. I am still reachable of course and everyone knows where to find me. My plans are to keep doing what I do best and that is write, record, and fucking live. I know it was a fast development, but life can be like that sometimes. As always, I trust my intuition, and this feels correct and true. So, in conclusion, more articles and content are coming. We have some big plans at ROX-TV in 2022 and I also have some plans of my own as well. Here’s to a new dawn and time space. Catch you on the flip side Gang. (333)

Signing Off,

Mike Shepard

ROX-TV Head Writer

shepard2909@hotmail.com