My Name Is Crushendo, and I have an Addiction
It happened on the very first night. What happened? The addiction. It grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me to my core, so hard that it has been sixteen months since I have gone without it. It sat on my shoulder whispering taunting “You know you want it” mantras. What’s my addiction? Roller derby.
You might laugh. You might disagree. You might think that I’m exaggerating or maybe even that I’m crazy. I can tell you with utmost sincerity that I have never felt a want, a need, a desire for anything so badly. In sixteen months, the longest I have gone without skating with my derby family has been a week. I should have been having the time of my life in Disneyworld, but all I really wanted was my eight-wheeled world. I think I may have missed four practices, total. It’s difficult not to put my skates on every.single.day. When I’m not playing, I’m traveling elsewhere to watch other teams play. Those practices when I’ve had to sit out of a drill because of an injury are like torture to my soul.
This addiction, however, has done amazing things for me. A lot of people in my life will look at me and say “You’ve lost a lot of weight!” The things I have lost are greatly outnumbered by what I have gained from this addiction. I have overcome fears. I have stepped out of my comfort zone. I found something that makes me happy. I have gained a wonderful family and extended family. And in a very real sense, I gained back the ME that has been inside for so long…just sort of sitting and waiting to come out to play.
So, yes. I have an addiction. When sitting in traffic jams on freeways, I think about how nice it would be to skate around it. When someone says “pack” I think of my team. When I am feeling down and out and dreary, I just want to skate it out. When kids are walking in a line down the hallway, I just want to weave in and out of them. It’s the whirring sound of the wheels. The thunking of the running cross-overs on the wood floor. The loud screeches of the T-stops. Even the foul odor of the rink. They fill my senses even when I’m not there.
Last month, when we were distributing fresh meat flyers, a woman asked “What does it take to be a derby girl?” My answer was quite simple. You have to want it. It takes desire, drive, and determination. I have wanted this like nothing else in my life, and I am a stubborn Scandanavian who doesn’t give up. Set-backs and off-days happen, but I want this and I will have it. Call it my addiction if you want…but I am so thankful to my BRD family for coming along on this crazy trip.