This is the year..

The entire goal of this year is simple in theory but difficult in practice: give myself a fucking break.

Physically, mentally, emotionally.

I will have two major surgeries within 8 months of each other. Foot surgery came first. Just as I was nearing the end of the walking boot stage, I needed a correction/additional surgery. So went back to square one in the healing. 🙄

For six months while living some of the darkest and hardest days of my life I was stuck sitting. Just sitting in it. Sitting in my loss and my grief (as I lost my Dad three weeks after said surgery). With the furthest I could hobble to the bathroom and back. Or to the kitchen and back.

Quarantined from normal life in this pandemic, stuck sitting alone, was not the healthiest for my mental well-being. And I had a LOT of time to just sit… and couldn’t help but notice how my stagnant body was changing.

Could I still do upper body work you ask? Or pilates maybe? One might think…

That’s where surgery #2 comes in. It’s a long ass explanation, but I have shoulder/neck issues that require surgery in August. So as I ice my foot, I place a heating pad my shoulder/neck and am not allowed to lift my left arm above my shoulder. (face palm… major face palm) I’m extremely limited in what I can do. Which is hard for me. Really hard. And I feel like a drain on my family.

This is not a pity party, but a wake-up call. I need to give myself a break!!

I’m not a terribly vain person, but I think in a way we all are wired to possess some vanity. We like to look nice, and feel good about ourselves in some capacity.

For starters… The only shoes I’m allowed to wear are HUMONGOUS gym shoes with build in orthotics. They’re like platform gym shoes on crack. Think Frankenstein here. Or like I have Polio. And lemme tell you, they don’t exactly accentuate any outfit. I don’t feel pretty.

So what? Seriously. I keep TRYING to tell myself to have that mindset. So fucking what?

Give yourself a break, Kriste…

I’m literally turning into a bunch of goo in human form as I watch all of my muscles atrophy.

So what? It’s not forever (right? Some days I have core meltdowns because it sure feels like forever to be honest..) and it’s not how I would live if I had ANY say in this season.

So I won’t be a swimsuit model again this year. *shrugs shoulders* What am I gonna do? Focus on my diet and skip chips and guac and wine? And oreos??  I…. don’t think so.

Give yourself a break, Kriste…

I have no clue how to grief! I’m probably doing it all wrong and STILL haven’t been able to have a good cry yet. Not one day has gone by in the past 6 months that I haven’t worn one of my Dad’s Harley shirts, listened to the playlist I made of his favorite songs or talked to him (whether it’s in my heart, out loud or to a cardinal flying by that I somehow reason is my Dad visiting me). Is this how people grief? I don’t know. Am I doing all I can to support my kids who also lost THEIR person? I don’t know.

Give yourself a break, Kriste…

It’s so easy as I write this to look at myself and my insecurities and tell myself (from this vehicle) to just chill out and practice grace and acceptance for myself. Just the way that I am and where I find myself on my path. This particular curve of my path is a gnarly bitch, but it is what it is.

So my plan is to get out of bed, lace up my Frankenstein shoes (literally not allowed to take a single step without them on) and take one day at a time.

Hopefully one day I will look back on this time in my life and be grateful for it, as it will be the time I really learned to love myself exactly as I am.

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