I haven’t been very active lately. I’ve been dealing with a lot of personal issues. I have been growing. I have been reading and reflecting on the road ahead of me.
Today, I worked out for the first time since November when I sprained my ankle. That’s 9 long months. At the end of the month, it will be 6 months since the car accident that left me bruised and broken. A lot has happened in the last few months, yet it seems like an eternity.
Getting back to working out feels like an amazing step in my recovery. It makes me realize how hard I have worked toward my healing and now it is starting to pay off.
I was glad to start moving again in exercises I enjoy. While I am grateful for my physiotherapist, I don’t enjoy doing gym-like exercises. I like joyful movements, cardio, dancing, but doing them allowed me to get back to this state. It wasn’t without fear or hardship. Some days, doing my squats and lunges sapped my energy. Getting myself back into movements was painful after weeks of forced rest. That first step to break the inertia. But I did and I am glad.
Going into physical therapy and recovery as a fat person can be very challenging. Most of my internalized stigmas, shame and derogatory self talk flew back. Throw in some mental health and you’re in for hell of a party.
As long as we keep moving forward, surround ourselves with a great support network and be patient toward our body and mind, everything will take its place where it belongs.
I feel hopeful toward the months ahead and going back to work. It won’t be easy, but perhaps I’ll get to dance back into it.
A bit more on the recent events soon. Stay tuned 🔥