When It All Falls Down
I know on Monday, I was a vessel of optimism and positivity, but today I cried.
In my mind, I went to a dark place. And I f*cking cried.
I cried out of pain. Out of frustration. I cried because suddenly, I felt trapped.
I cried because I can’t be f*cked being injured! I can’t be f*cked having to slow down. I can’t be f*cked having to stop now – things were all going so well.
A week on from snapping my achilles, and holy sh*t did things get real today or what.
I started to think about how my fitness will decline. My options will slim. About how my ability to drive to see friends, to stroll with my toes in the sand, to dance the summer nights away are now incapabilities.
I stressed about how useful I can be in my job at Pandora. Freaked out about the fact that my grand plans may have to change. Wondered how I’m gonna get by when it took me a full hour just to get out of bed this morning.
I counted the days until I’m out of a cast. Clicked that my strength won’t be back for months. Realized that this injury could literally take years to heal.
I thought about the fact that I had to crawl on the ground to clean my room. How half my wardrobe is now redundant. How often I’ve had to ask people favours in the last week.
I can’t open doors. Have to sit down to get dressed. Have skipped two dinners just ’cause it’s easier not to cook.
Washing my hair is a b*tch. Making my bed is a joke. Sleeping is an uncomfortable impossibility.
How the f*ck am I meant to hustle like this?!
But, this is the reality. I cried. And this is still the reality.
So I told myself to breathe.
I told myself to breathe again.
I told myself to breathe again, just one more time.
I made myself read the blog post I wrote on Monday.
I made myself read it again.
I made myself read it again, just one more time.
Yes, this f*cking sucks. But my optimistic-Monday-self reminded me of a few things I needed to hear.
I gotta focus on what I can do as opposed to what I can’t.
Gotta learn whatever lessons this experience will teach me.
Gotta take this negative and make it as positive as possible.
Yes. It sucks. I cried. And it still sucks.
But I need to remember that this is temporary. That there will be an end. That it’s not the worst thing that could have happened.
Yo. I got a brain. I’m breathing. I’m still capable, even if I’m a little less capable than usual.
So yo. I gotta make the best of this. I gotta be grateful. There is a light – and the fact that a state of being ‘capable as usual’ lies ahead of me is a blessing in itself.
People say that 2016 has been a bad year. And, if I believed that, this would be the final-2016-slap-in-the-face for Lucy O’Connor. I could say that 2016 has been so bad that it’s chasing me into 2017.
But I refuse to buy into the hype.
2016 has this been incredible. It’s been pivotal. It’s been life-changing. And, even if it’s hard, we gotta find that nugget of optimism in whatever hand it is we’ve been dealt.
Because when it comes down to it.. After all our tears have been cried.. Insofar as possible, we may as well stay positive. I hear the alternative to that sucks way more than a snapped achilles.
Thank you so much for your ongoing support as I continue to navigate this journey through the excitement and the devastation, the losses and the lessons, the wins and the curve balls.
Have a wonderful, loving and relaxing Christmas. Take an actual break would ya?! Whatever has gone down.. Know that you’ve completely and utterly killed it this year, Hustler.
I’m so excited to see what the near future will bring for us both. After all.. We’re still in it. We’re still moving. We’re still totally and utterly capable of making this sh*t happen.
And I’m still so inspired by you, so grateful for you, and so proud of you.