Losing Movement

I sprained my knee this week. I felt the joint crumple under my weight as I twisted. I collapsed to the floor. It took me a minute to process how badly I was injured. I had seriously injured that knee before, and fearful flashbacks of the recovery process were running through my thoughts. As my mind caught up to the moment, thankfully what I found was missing this time was the searing pain of a torn ligament. Just a bad sprain, I think.

I was among friends, who helped me up, got me ice, and made sure I was ok. Now, home alone with my fiancé, I feel ashamed. I feel angry that my body let me down, and in turn I am letting him down. That I am now for many things unhelpful. I live a privileged life, where this set-back won't cause me to lose income, but also one that I feel the responsibility of keeping up with. Of keeping the house clean, of showing up to work every day, of being able to move quickly from one task to the next. My pace has come to a halt. I can limp along, but it makes my right hip and knee ache from carrying my weight unnaturally. I am best suited to lying down with my knee elevated to let it rest. I am frustrated. I feel like less of a partner. Injured or not, I do not feel entitled to being waited on. I don't like being the weakest link, the dead weight. I don't like depending on anyone because I don't think it's fair of me. 

This is only temporary, thankfully. The reality is, it could have been worse, many things could be worse. With my marriage coming up, I have been thinking a lot lately about what it would be like if one of us ever became ill or disabled in some way. How would we handle it? My own Mother passed on of cancer at 42. She needed a lot of help, especially near the end. We can never know our future. When we commit to another person, we sign up for in sickness and in health. We are saying that we will be there, for whatever they need. You are their person. We will bear our burdens together., no matter what they turn out to be.

I have felt out of touch with myself a little lately. Not in a way that would show up to anyone else, not even in a way that I have acknowledged. But I know it's there. It nags at the corners of my thoughts, finds me in the silence. It is that feeling telling me to give up, to give in, to just be mediocre. To stop working hard, to be lazy, to let go of my goals, to fall into a lesser version of myself. I might put forth a big smile most days, but that feeling rarely goes away. It's a bit of an anxiety/depression/self-esteem cocktail. A little bit of you're not good enough with a dash of why does it matter? Shaken, not stirred. That is part of my sickness. I hope it's something I can ultimately overcome, but it's something I have to ask someone to sign up for if they want me for a lifetime. I will have my days where it wins. Where I don't feel like working or being productive in any way, even though I know better. It scares me. What will happen when we have kids? I watch our friends who are parents now and it takes so much of your energy. It's full-time. You can't wake up and say "I don't feel like being a parent today." You can't just take a personal day. You have to push through it. I want to teach my children to be open and strong. I want to teach them to share their emotions, but also to master them. To understand them enough to not let them rule them. To calmly discuss them, be honest about how they feel, and be conscious of how they effect their behaviour. I have to be strong enough to do those things too. 

Staying busy, moving, creating, having purpose and routine is what helps keep me motivated. Having things to do reminds me that there are things that matter in life that need doing. That sounds a bit dramatic, because of course things matter. Love matters. Smiles, hugs, health, peace, fulfillment, laughter, sunshine, nature, life matters. But when you feel like a tiny hammer is slowly chipping away at your will to drive forward, you will do anything to help build that up again. Distracting yourself only lasts so long. You have to fight back. Whether your rehab is emotional or physical, or sometimes both.

I have had the privilege of an understanding partner/boss this week who has let me take time to rest and recover (Thank you sweetheart). I have tried to be conscious of bad habits, be aware of my emotions, and pull myself back a little bit. I know that I need that sometimes. I was forced to find that place this week. I didn't like it. But I am working on building back up the place where my mind is sharp and positive, no matter what my body is doing. That I am committed to working hard and going for what I want, instead of letting it pass me by. I still constantly feel like it's not enough, but that measurement stick is something I made for myself, I am the only one who can alter it. I might be stepping gingerly, but I am stepping forward, and I will always fight to keep it that way.