Matthew B. Johnson
Just a writer looking to peddle his stories. TOP WRITER on Medium in Humor, This Happened to Me, Mental Health, Disability, and Life Lessons. C-5 incomplete quadriplegic. I love comic books, coffee, all things Dragon Age, and the 49ers.
My Guide through the Dark
I broke my neck in a diving accident on July 2nd, 2005, rendering me a quadriplegic. I spent six weeks lying flat on my back, two of which were spent eating and breathing through a tube. Shrugging my shoulders and blinking were my only voluntary movements.
Just Because She's Online, It Doesn't Give You the Right to Harass Her
I realize that this is a conversation many people don’t want to have, but for fuck’s sake, can we please stop harassing women online? Yes, we should stop harassing them in person, too, but sweet, merciful Lord, the verbal sewage that many women endure online is stomach churning.
That Time The Christmas Tree Fell on My Sister
I bet you read the title and had mental images of a Griswold-sized tree toppling over in a tidal wave of pine needles, ornaments, and tinsel, swallowing up a little girl as she clutched her teddy bear, helpless to stop the catastrophe in motion, resulting in tears, a ruined Christmas, and a life-long case of Christougenniatiko dentrophobia (that’s the clinical name for a fear of Christmas trees. Yes, apparently that’s a thing).
Blue Eyes and Second Chances
Her face was younger than it should have been. Living on the street ages people faster than most of us realize. The sun’s rays strip away the skin’s youthful suppleness, and the winter’s cold leaves it dried and cracked like old concrete.
A Celebration of All Things Geeky
I’m a fucking geek. Thoroughly. Unrepentantly. Fanatically. I love a variety of geeky things from Star Wars to Lord of the Rings, from comic books to comic conventions. I love super hero movies, both live-action and animated. My book shelves are filled with science fiction and fantasy, both classic and contemporary. And while I don’t dress up myself, I admire and appreciate the artistry behind good cosplay.
A Matter of the Heart: Overthinking These Symptoms Alerted Me to a Real Problem
I’m convinced that, someday, I’ll die of a heart attack. My family has a long and awful history of stroke, heart disease, and diabetes. All of my grandparents suffer from these afflictions, and three of them have sadly already passed away from them. My dad’s dad was a walking cautionary tale of why it’s important to take care of yourself, and specifically, why you should take care of your heart. Grandpa Bill was a big, strong, barrel-chested man. My dad is a big, strong, barrel-chested dude. And, genetics being what they are, I grew up to have the same build.
A Self-Imposed Thanksgiving Day Disaster
One of the more frustrating aspects of over-thinking is its tendency to make us do extremely stupid things. I’ve often found myself in situations in which I overthought what should have been a simple decision, but, instead, I got lost in a maelstrom of options ranging from “meh” to “oh hell, I’ll gonna regret that later.”
How The Kindness of Two Strangers Restored My Faith in Humanity
I hate asking for help. It’s just part of who I am. Maybe it’s a strong sense of self-reliance. Maybe it’s taking pride in the independence I worked so hard to regain after the accident which rendered me a quadriplegic. Maybe it’s not wanting to be in someone else’s debt.
Is Chasing My Dream a Waste of Time?
When I grow up, I want to be a writer. As a kid, I loved books and stories. I knew that, one day, I was going to write books of my own. In fact, one year for my birthday, all I asked for was a pack of pencils and several notebooks to write in. I went to town, furiously scribbling stories and outlines for what I was convinced would be best-selling novels.
No One Cares if You Hate Your Job. Just Work.
If I had a dollar for every time I said I hated my job, I could retire. And live in a mansion. On Mars. My fucking hate current job. I often go to bed with a knot in my stomach Sunday through Thursday night. I sometimes wake up with chest pains, nausea, or both. I don’t sleep well or long enough to feel rested, so each day, I’m working on a growing sleep deficit.