My life inherently changed 7 months ago.
All my life I have been proud of my ability to do physical things. Mostly because it’s always hurt to do them, but also because I knew that I was quietly helping myself feel better. It has been an outlet of sorts for me. Any frustration, sadness, whatever-I could go to a gym, go to crazy jobs that I’ve had no business doing, take a fitness class, or go for a walk. It also helped with clots and swelling to pedal or do any of the aforementioned things when those started to flair up. Anyone that tells you that any sort of movement, if they are capable of moving, will not help them is flat out not being honest. 🤷🏼♀️ (or they’re just lazy. 👀)
I cannot move now without it being incredibly painful. I am also hunched over because standing upright makes me feel like letting out a yell. I have always waddled, but I corrected that for a time and now it’s a million times worse. I also drag my left side around all day. As a person who has honestly never really enjoyed attention, I’m hard to miss now when I move.
Some days the loss of physical anonymity makes me sad, or embarrassed, or ticked off. (Or a combo of all three!) But on this eve of the 7 month anniversary of my new life, I suppose I’m writing this to give myself permission to let go. Come what may God will see me through, and maybe I’ll be better than before my journey began. ❤️