Tuesday, 4 July 2017

Another shift.

I have bust my knee. Quite extraordinary and I can't get my head around it at all because I haven't fallen over and the X-ray showed an impact break. Straight through the kneecap. My consultant at the fracture clinic seems to think it might have been cracked for a few weeks and when I ran a 10K last weekend, the ligaments simply pulled the patella apart. I am in a leg brace and it will take 12 weeks to mend. That's a very long time for a mother of three to sit still. It's a very long time for a woman who runs four times a week to sit still. It's a very, very long time for a woman who usually 'does' to not do. And, again, you really find out who your friends are. Huge kisses to the ones that have stepped up. No pun intended. 

I started my life being abused. A few people know this, not many. I have never really spoken about it. To a councillor, a kindred spirit, a boyfriend who I was told I could trust because they would always be there for me.. Yeah, about that. And because I accepted being abused as my norm, I started life with very little self esteem. I didn't pick up much more throughout my teenage years and then into my 20's, it seemed I was attracted to abusers like a magnet on a fridge. Mental, and emotional abuse luckily more than physical although there was one who thought it was okay to thump me simply for breathing too loudly. WTF? No abuse is acceptable. My mind was played with, my heart ripped up and I was treated like no girl should ever be treated. I was never really good enough for any one of my boyfriends. That hurts. Truthfully, they were never good enough for me either but they didn't need to be mean and take with them the tiny bit of self worth I had. Boys in a break up are bastards. 

I am nearly 46 years old. I know that I'm intolerant of bullshit and bad behaviour but what else is there? If someone shows complete lack of respect, why would I want to be near them? I don't. Not one bit. It has reduced my friendship groups. It has alienated me from old friends who once would roar with laughter as I relayed a tale in the days when we felt invincible. The trouble is, as you get older, you soon realise that life is precious. We are not invincible and words more so than actions can really hurt. That's my main issue right now, I am hurt. It is physical and I'm not talking about my inconvenient broken knee, I am talking about the pain of losing my sister. The other half of me who witnessed my abuse and who wished she could help when she couldn't. I remember her saying after Mum died, how horrible it was for her to know I was being hurt but not being able to do anything about it. Maybe through fear, I'm not sure. I would like to think that I might have tried if roles were reversed. Who knows. I don't blame her for staying silent. She was, after all, only 5 years old. 

I'm intolerant and I'm impatient. Neither are ideal for a usually active woman but I am trying to accept this sudden immobility and use my time wisely. Which is why I am here, right now, today. All three children are out of the house until later and I am at my desk. No more excuses. I have been given the opportunity to sit and finish what I started years ago. Lucky me. I think.

And because this is me and my space, I can also admit that I am crying. A lot. I don't cry. Not really. But I am crying now. And on the flip side of the coin, I kissed an old friend at the weekend and I didn't expect that either. Not one bit. So I'm feeling lucky, sad and confused all at the same time.

Until tomorrow..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lc8X3FXwQCg

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Big day.

Huge actually. I am being seen by my  consultant  later this morning to see if I'm mended and presuming I am,  whether  or not I am able...