Clever wordplay. For fun. Welcome, nobody reading, to my latest diatribe.
Today’s pain level: 4/10.
When one (in this case, me) breaks, say, a back, their ability to do exercise can diminish greatly. Growing up, I was in excellent shape, was in sports, and prided myself on my ability to stay active. Do not read that to mean I was an amazing athlete. I wasn’t. I was pretty average, albeit could run fast. So unless I am in the Olympics or trying to outrun police, it wasn’t really a skill set that was going to get me places.
As I got older, I wouldn’t say I stayed in the greatest shape, but I also wasn’t out of control. Being in a happy marriage with a great child, I had obtained the “dad bod”. Not a big deal, I wasn’t gaining any more weight, at least.
After the incident, I became a guy with a dad bod who looks like he may have eaten another guy with a dad bod. A lot of things stopped…any walking for more than maybe 10-15 minutes at a time, going to the store and shopping, being able to do tasks at home, that sort of thing.
“Steve, you mean you were able to get out of housework? Stop complaining, man!” writes a fictional person.
That is all nice for a short time, but even standing for periods past 10 or 15 minutes was a nightmare. Aside from weight gain, what is worse is the mental toll it takes on you, and then in turn, on people around you. Depression is not a joke, or something easily fixed. My favorite people are the ones who are ridiculously over-simplistic and say “Cheer up!” or “Eh don’t worry about it!”
After punching them in the face repeatedly in my mind, I just give the old head nod, smile, and act like I care about their advice. That said, I understand where they are coming from. I USED to be that person. Extended depression did not happen to me before so I couldn’t understand people who suffered from it. I would start assaulting karma now, but in the event karma is real, I will only say “You look nice today, Karma!”
Finally, after 7 years, I am committing to a life change. The goal? One-hundred pounds. I am at 33 pounds, and still have a long way to go. Now that I have hit the 30 mark, I am going to start incorporating light exercise. Two or three times per day I will attempt to walk for 20 minutes. Losing weight will alleviate physical stress, I know that. So if you see me out and about (pray that you don’t) and I am in a McDonald’s drive-thru, I give you express permission to chloroform me (make sure the car is in “park”) and drop me off in a corn field somewhere with no cell phone or way to get home.
I am not a therapist, but while depression is real, overcoming ANY obstacle requires action. So here we go.