Sooooo, 2013 is coming quickly to a close, and even though I’ve barely written on my blog all year long, one of the things I’ve written about A LOT is my stupid leg injury. Dealing with all of that fuckery has made for kind of a downer year for me. I mean, not entirely. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve still had lots of fun with my husband and kiddos and friends, and I’ve done fun things, and I’ve enjoyed the holidays, and blah blah blah. But still, the leg. The stupid leg. It always throbs a little, and that dull pain is always there in the background, like a little reminder to myself that this awful thing happened. It’s lame. I truly believed that I would make a full recovery and everything would be back to normal in just a few months time, and believing that is what pulled me through some of those dark early days. Had I realized back then that I would still be battling daily pain a year after my surgery, I can’t imagine how far I would have spiraled into depression.
The bigger side effect from the fall/injury/surgery/recovery is not the ongoing pain, though. It’s the massive anxiety I go through now, every time I have to leave my house. I never understood what agoraphobia was, but I think I’m starting to get it. I’m not afraid to go OUTSIDE or anything, but I really struggle whenever I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings. I worry that I’m going to lose my footing and slip in a parking lot, a store, the curb, someone’s porch, in a bar, at my kids’ school, in a boat, with a goat, whatever. I don’t make plans with friends because I worry that I won’t be able to keep up with them, or that I’ll have to abandon everyone to find a place to sit down and rest my stupid throbbing leg. People ask me all the time why I’m limping, and usually I don’t even realize I am. I feel like I’m someone’s sixty-year-old mom that got dragged along, and I hate feeling that way.
I think I need to get to a point of acceptance that this is just something I’m going to have to deal with – maybe forever. I have plans for the new year to possibly have another surgery to get the hardware removed from my tibia. I feel like maybe that’s causing a lot of the pain, and it seems like a safe risk to have a minor surgery that might get rid of some of my pain. Hopefully my ortho will feel the same way. I don’t think my anxiety is going to go away until I feel like I’m in a little more control of my pain. In the mean time, I have such a kickass, amazing husband, you guys. I know I gush about him regularly, but I truly can’t say enough about what a wonderful and supportive partner he is. Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed or upset or freaked out, I just call him. I used to worry about bugging him at work, but he insists that I check in with him whenever I feel shitty, so he can talk me through it. I think it helps both of us – he gets to be the fixer, and I get a little reassurance that the sky isn’t actually falling.
So, if you haven’t seen me around as much, please don’t think it’s because I don’t want to hang out. I do! I’ve just turned into such a reclusive crabapple that I don’t want to leave my bubble.
Thanksgiving bliss.