Wednesday, January 01, 2014

Winged (Hipped?): A List

Haven’t posted not because things are terrible but because I feel like I keep saying the same old things, and who wants to read or hear that? Everyone likes lists, though, right?

10 Things That Happened In the Last 5 Months
  1. I injured my hip and can’t run. CAN’T. RUN. You all understand the terrible blow this is to me. I ignored my own advice (unfortunately not an unusual occurrence) and ran even though it made it feel worse. I kept going until every time I ran it felt like I was a deer futilely trying to escape a hunter despite the arrow hanging from my flank. I got an injection, which helped a tiny part of it, but it seems to be a much bigger problem. More specialty visits are in my future if I can pull myself out of my funk to actually schedule them. However, the injury did lead to one good thing:    

  2. Namaste! I have taken up yoga with a vengeance. I’ve been doing 90 minute classes two to three times a week, and it’s the bomb. (Why am I using all these aggressive words? This is yoga!) I’ve known for ages that I needed this to help with my flexibility and my core/upper body strength and evening out my crooked self blah blah blah and there’s a great studio blocks from my house but the injury was the push I needed. One of my best friends, on hearing of this, messaged me: That is unexpected. Instructor: “Serenity now!” You: “... no.” And sometimes it is like that. But OMG does it make me feel better. I’m not bendy in general but the hips, they are absurd. They are less flexible than a fundamentalist with lockjaw. The other day the instructor said “one teacher I had said that the hips are where the things we need to say but don’t are stored” and how I laughed. (I actually don’t mind the woo-woo stuff, the instructors are pretty noncommittal about it.)

  3. I feel embarrassed about how slowly therapy is progressing. I know, I know, I KNOW, it’s not a race, I can only deal with things at the pace I can, things that went on for years and then were suppressed for over three decades aren’t likely to be dealt with in the blink of an eye, Rome wasn’t built in a day, a watched pot never boils, ’tis not good to bruise an injury till it were full ripe … but still. I feel like I have therapy dyslexia.

  4. Therapy IS progressing. Per my therapist, the trickiest part is not to replicate the abuse by forcing the therapy, but we have established that he may be a little too gentle and things are getting more intense now.

  5. My therapist asked why I’m not doing the things now that I’ve always wanted to do and I said “uhhhh …” so I am learning Spanish for real and planning a two-week solo trip to a language immersion place for my birthday in the summer.

  6. Also, tentatively planning a big tattoo of a jellyfish on my back. Why a jellyfish? Because jellyfish a) get to float gently on the warm waves, going with the flow; b) are beautiful; c) pack a secret weapon. And why a tattoo? Mid-life crisis.

  7. HB now has hair to his waist and has thrown himself into guitar and drums at rock band school and has paid for a bunch of equipment with his own money. His stage name is Lemon and he wears as much yellow as he can. He is also doing well at school school, where he continues to be a class clown (still amazes me given his angry angry first five years) but is also making a name for himself with his writing ability (!).

  8. I cry at movies.

  9. The cat who lost half his weight has stayed at his goal (and the thin cat has not starved, though this takes some strategizing).

  10. I visited my mom over Christmas and it’s oddly reassuring to see again that I’m not imagining how weird it was to grow up with her: she’s like a lamp with a loose wire, flicking on and off, all there and then all gone. Sample exchange, as she’s writing a list: “I’m going to the supermarket. What will the boy eat?” “Chicken nuggets and Bubba Burgers.” When she returns: “I'm surprised he wanted Boca Burgers - they're vegetarian!” “I said Bubba.” “No you didn't.” “Look at your list.” “I lost the list.” “How come you didn’t call?” “I forgot my phone. Oh and they didn't have chicken nuggets.” And they still can’t lock their house because she loses every single key. They only lock it when the cleaning service comes (which, thank goodness for cleaners) and then my mom can’t get back in unless my stepdad is with her.

Did I miss anything important?