I would like to take a moment and apologise for the last week's depressing posts. Normally I wouldn't mind, because this is my own space for my thoughts through this process - BUT I've seen a consistent rise in readers as well (anyone spot a connection?) so I think it's worth a post.
No, things are not great and as I'm closing in on the completion of my rehabilitation period - what should be a joyous moment of freedom - I can't help but to feel more trapped than ever. Not only am I forever tied to a regular rather tough training routine, but there are no guarantees that will even help. I don't mind working out, and in fact I do realise it is somewhat of a blessing. This way, I'll never be able to completely let myself go. It's a healthy life style I'm given.
On the other hand, the consequences if I do not follow the regime are dire. Even after 2 weeks of slipping, when I ran 10K I could not walk afterwards or the following day. Long holidays? That one-month volunteering trip I want to make? Don't even think about it.
And of course, at the same time, any elite sports is out of the question. Unless we're discussing chess or paralympics here, my days beyond "ambitious amateur" (as CJ calls it) are over. Not that I was hoping to go to the WNBA or even national league in Sweden (I gave that up long ago), but I can't even dream about it anymore. Now all that's left is the 'what if...'. I hate the what if.
Sports has always been my life, and perhaps this is a sign that my destiny is something else, but I can't figure out what. Sports is what I do, and what I've always done, and I just feel like I've lost a big part of myself. Not just through losing basketball. I've (sort of) made my peace with that. But losing sports as a whole - or at least any ambitions/dreams I may still harbour.
It's just not going to happen for me, and I'll always have to be conscious of my knee. Mr Physio said that I'll probably always feel it one way or the other. That would be fine if I was old, and it would be natural for the body to remind me of the age. But I'm not old, even though it certainly feels like it. I'm 22 and supposedly have my whole life in front of me. I've had this crap since I was 14.
To put everything above in one sentence, I guess I just don't see an end to it. And that both scares me and makes me sad. I'm sure I'll snap out of this melancholia at some point, and hopefully I'm not making any other ACL victims too depressed.
If you're out there reading this before, during or after your ACL rehab, know one thing - I've been terribly unlucky through this process, what with rogue surgeries and personal denial delaying the inevitable. You'll be fine because most people are fine. I'm just in those 10-20% you don't want to be in.
Anyway, sorry for a long post but I needed to write it down because it's been bugging me for a long time. Thank you for reading, and please feel free to mail any questions you may have about ACL surgeries/rehab etc to ladypretentious@gmail.com. I know a fair bit about it.
Again, thank you.
x
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