Dysfunctional Function
There are times when I get really focused in a way that if detrimental to other parts of my life. It’s a sort of tunnel vision that leads me to disregard other things that are important in my life because I might have a very defined goal I am trying to reach. Ultimately, this is a terrible practice.
A you might recall, I dislocated part of my ankle early in the year and it was long recovery. I was cleared for light activity about two months ago and that’s when the problem started.
See when you’re stuck off your feet, or stuck hobbling for a long periods of time, everything starts to go soft and irritating I was stuck in a boot for 6 weeks, and then 8 weeks of physical therapy where I was not to do anything but the lightest of exercise outside of it. And in that time, I could almost irritatingly feel parts of me deteriorating.
It is not that I was particularly fitness conscious before, but now that I was not allowed to really move, the rebellious streak in me was determined to.
At about a week after I was cleared for light exercise and “healed” I started to become a wee bit obsessed. First it started with a little Just Dance on a regular basis. Then hour-long streaks. Then walking a bit on PokemonGo. Doing a short hike. Walking a mile regularly. Walking 2 miles.
That was when I hit a breaking point. I had been ignoring the twangs of pain my poor ankle was trying to scream at me. Until I could barely walk.
Just like that, I am mostly bed bound. I can do maybe two dances on Just dance or walk around the block before everything is in burning, sharp pain. So I don’t even do that, because the last thing I want to do is end up booted. Or in surgery, which I narrowly avoided last time.
Perhaps the most frustrating thing about my two-month moving obsession is that I neglected many other important things in my life in favor of pushing myself. Writing is a big one, as you can see by the huge gap in these blog entries. Some mild home maintenance. Even keeping up my hair care routine. Spending time with my husband that wasn’t us just trying to fit ourselves my new moving obsession.
It is perturbing that even at this age I cannot stop developing obsessive habits that cloud my ability to do other things, and that eclipse other important parts of my life. You’d think as a recovered anorexic, I would have learned that exercise is healthy, until it’s not. But here I am, icing my ankle on the regular, hoping I can step on my own tomorrow.
See you on the flip side amigxs.
-La Queta