I split the butt out of my cheap panty hose today. The liar in me is happy to stress the 'cheap' part. The honest person, that I know is hiding in there somewhere, knows damn well why the poor spandex infused nylon gave up - stress. Funny, I think the panty hose and I have something in common.
I have given up to stress as well. For months I have been eating and letting mental anguish beat me rather than fighting back. It has been easier to lay back, let insanity wash over me and cram it into my soul with cookies and a glass of milk.
When they put me on the 'sedentary' track for my knee, I was determined that wasn't going to lead me further astray. Alas, bullshit that isn't followed up with bravado is as useless as, well hell, I can't think of any clean examples. Suffice it to say, it won't get you very far.
I haven't been to my ortho since the whole, "we won't touch your knee until we know if the shoulder is cancer" episode. I could go back, but I have a sneaking suspicion what he will prescribe and my butt has been set on long enough.
Between my lack of movement and my ever present attempts at assuaging pain and stress through food, I have become everything I swore I would never be again. Now it's time to put up or shut up.
So, starting Sunday morning, I am going to put on my knee brace and walk. It won't be far or long, but it will be movement. I am going to see how far I can push my knee before it pushes back.
I don't have time to be complacent anymore. It is making me lack self-respect and not like myself, I thought that was over. But the self-loathing is now more painful than the knee, so one of them has to give.
Yours in re-dedication, Kate