Betrayal

That is one strong, melodramatic word for a blog post title, but hang with me.

My body just does not want to cooperate with me.  This is especially frustrating when I've been treating is quite well.  I mean, I've been really trying my hardest every single day to treat it well.  Even at times I really really did not feel like doing the right thing, I looked fear in the face and did the right thing anyway, internally kicking and screaming the whole time.  Still, I'm not getting the respect back that I want and that's a lot of crap.

If you think this is a post about fat, well, maybe only partially.  It's true that the last few weeks have been rough.  Traveling for a conference.  Attending more social gatherings and work related functions that revolved around food and drink.  Most of all, the weather is finally something we call summer and my participation in summer activities has been anything but desired.  I've been sitting at home while the sun shines outside, feeling still uncomfortable in this "new body" and wondering when it's all just going to stop. 

What I'm actually getting at is...for the past six months, I have had no choice but to remain sedentary.  My achilles injury did more than just sideline me from my favorite things like running and cycling - it quite literally changed the way I went about life.  My walking was limited and so every normal activity I had to do involving walking took several mental calculations and considerations on how to do so without putting stress on my foot, which was booted up in a walking brace 90% of the day.  Things like going grocery shopping (those hard floors really hurt even with my boot on), attending social gatherings in public places (will there be chairs for me to sit?), shopping (where can I park closest, since I don't have a handicap tag, so I don't have to walk far?  Does it make sense to move my car later so I don't have to walk to the other end of the mall to go in that other store?), meetings at work (can I virtually attend so I don't have to walk - sometimes quite literally - a half mile to the building the meeting is in?), driving (it was my right foot - do I drive with the boot on and risk getting into an accident, or do I take it off and deal with the pain for my 30 minute commute home) and practically everything else one would consider normal everyday stuff.

For the last couple weeks, I have been walking boot free.  Sounds like a relief, right?  It is in many respects, trust me.  But having my foot immobile for six months has meant re-learning how to walk normally.  As a result, other places on my foot and even hip are sore from this progression.  Everyday, I have some sort of new pain or twinge somewhere.

I know this takes time, but it leaves me wondering why every single day.  I'm doing the right things, so why isn't anything working right?

My therapist put it real well this week at our session - that I feel betrayed by my body, and indeed I do.  I've given it rest, nutrition and kindness when I can.  All I want is for my normal activities to return - to go for a bike ride along the lake.  Jog on my lunch hour with my work friends.  Take some neat hikes in the state parks around me.  My allowance for activity is biking on my trainer 10 minutes at a time, 10% increase a week...which is one whole luscious minute a week longer than the last.  I know I have to take it slow, but I just can't help but still be upset by it.  Betrayed.

It is a weird juxtaposition - while affected with my ED, I felt the same way, but for different reasons.  I felt betrayed by size, weight and an imagination of what I thought was my true appearance.  Trying to lose weight or have the perfect body when your body doesn't want to do those things unless you resort to extreme measures.  I felt betrayed then while treating myself badly, and I feel betrayed now as I try to slowly heal.  Will my body and I ever get along?  Or will we play this tug of war for the rest of our life?