Have you ever tried to do something and, even though you know you are capable, even though you are physically able to, and even though it isn't dangerous, you find you simply... cannot?
I have been becoming disabled by some invisible force, restraints I never asked for tie me down and keep me from doing simple things. Like, riding the exercise bike in my living room. Like writing these sentences, that I am writing now. Like believing in myself.
What is the reason for this?
Oh, gosh, I really don't know.
It never occurred to me that as I aged I would not be able to physically do things. That my memory would suddenly have a bunch of blank spots. That my doggone hair would turn so silver so quick! Dang!
I sleep. A lot. I know what this is; this is the sleep of avoidance. I don't want to face up that there is going to be more pain before I can regain movement in my arms. There will be more pain before I can comfortably wear shoes or not wear shoes. I cry. Yes, I know this whole thing is like a huge WAH! But I haven't been able to cry much and at least I can cry now.
Ahem.
All better now.
The thing is, I know that lack of movement equals lack of ability to move. I know that our bodies are designed so that movement keeps the blood flowing. I know if I do not stretch my ankles daily, my feet are going to really be hurting and my Achilles tendons will scream at me as well. I have the power and ability to fix this.
But pain is a powerful deterrent.
Tom just brought home a weight bench and dug out the remaining weights that were left here by my brother. So now, an exercise bike, weight bench, elastic bands, and a exercise ball reside in my home. Where I am basically tripping over them. Right there, easily accessible. Right there.
Deep breath, plan, and....begin.
One step at a time. One word at a time. I will become active. I will write. I will learn. I will not go quietly. I fight for my mind, my body, my heart. The passion is still somewhere in me. I will find a way to wake it up and live.
Deep breath. Begin.
I have been becoming disabled by some invisible force, restraints I never asked for tie me down and keep me from doing simple things. Like, riding the exercise bike in my living room. Like writing these sentences, that I am writing now. Like believing in myself.
What is the reason for this?
Oh, gosh, I really don't know.
It never occurred to me that as I aged I would not be able to physically do things. That my memory would suddenly have a bunch of blank spots. That my doggone hair would turn so silver so quick! Dang!
I sleep. A lot. I know what this is; this is the sleep of avoidance. I don't want to face up that there is going to be more pain before I can regain movement in my arms. There will be more pain before I can comfortably wear shoes or not wear shoes. I cry. Yes, I know this whole thing is like a huge WAH! But I haven't been able to cry much and at least I can cry now.
Ahem.
All better now.
The thing is, I know that lack of movement equals lack of ability to move. I know that our bodies are designed so that movement keeps the blood flowing. I know if I do not stretch my ankles daily, my feet are going to really be hurting and my Achilles tendons will scream at me as well. I have the power and ability to fix this.
But pain is a powerful deterrent.
Tom just brought home a weight bench and dug out the remaining weights that were left here by my brother. So now, an exercise bike, weight bench, elastic bands, and a exercise ball reside in my home. Where I am basically tripping over them. Right there, easily accessible. Right there.
Deep breath, plan, and....begin.
One step at a time. One word at a time. I will become active. I will write. I will learn. I will not go quietly. I fight for my mind, my body, my heart. The passion is still somewhere in me. I will find a way to wake it up and live.
Deep breath. Begin.
