At a Loss
It's been a few weeks since I sat down and blogged last - I have honestly been in a serious rut the last 2-3 weeks.
Back in September, I wrote about how I was diagnosed with another stress fracture in my hip the week of a highly anticipated race. I was ultimately grateful I listened to my body and I vowed to remain positive and upbeat throughout my recovery because there was really nothing else I could do.In my last post this month, I touched on my delayed breakdown about being back on crutches and reinjured. While I acknowledge it's not a catastrophe or the end of the world, I was having a lot of "why me" questions.
Well, in the last few weeks, that positive attitude and approach I had in September has almost entirely disappeared and that delayed breakdown I had a few weeks...well, it's only continued and worsened.
I hate that I feel pressured to put on a smiling face and tell people "well, at least I'm used to crutches with all of my practice!" While, yes, this statement is true and yes, I am using it as an opportunity to work on my core and arms, I just want to scream to people that I'm reaching a point where I feel mentally broken and extremely disheartened in a lot of areas of my life. But, how would anyone respond, particularly after people have told me that they respect how I've handled this injury?!
Right now, I feel restless, cooped up, boring. It's nearly impossible to carry anything, it's a struggle to crutch across the sand - only to sit and forgo playing in the water and it's a struggle to walk through a crowded bar (and forget about even holding a drink on my own). By the time I walk anywhere, I'm embarrassingly out of breath (and far behind) and my arms ache. So, instead, my evenings and weekends have been relegated to sitting on my couch or laying in bed watching TV, reading and cracking open some new beers. Some of this hasn't even been optional. As a result of my injury and the fact that it's way harder for me to do anything, I have been promptly removed from group texts and no longer included on invites. So long, social outings. Sure, I embraced the forced pause and time to relax at first...but I'm reaching a point where I'd do anything just to have some adventure thrust back into my life.
Right now, I am annoyed every time I have to answers the "what happened" question to anyone new who spots my crutches. The last time I was injured, I struggled hard with an identity crisis - I didn't know how to define myself outside of the "runner," the "adventurer" or "miss independent." Throughout the four months of recovery time earlier this year, I made some progress in this - realizing I was a friend, a sister, a daughter, a writer, a yogi. But, this "what happened/what are you doing now?" question plagues me and brings me straight back to the identity crisis. My injury is the only thing people think to ask me about - new people don't ask how I am, how work is, anything. I am reduced to my injury, and I feel like any remaining aspects of my identity are removed. So, cue quarter-life identity crisis, part two.
Right now, though I mostly feel hopeless. The doctors have not been able to find any cause as to why I've suffered two femoral neck fractures in a year. Every possible test has been run, and everything has come back normal (or even above average). While yes, I acknowledge I will be off crutches in the next six weeks, I am petrified it's only a matter of time before I am back on them with an even more severe injury. I have no proactive prevention I can pursue, and I'm scared that eventually running, adventuring and being independent will totally be taken out of my grasp. And, well, that makes me anxious beyond belief.
This injury has affected running, sure. It's affected my fall racing season and fitness goals. But, I'm finding that it's impacting all areas of my life, and I'm not really sure how to proceed - I'm at a loss.