I’m picking up the pieces.

I literally cried all Monday, and when I went to see my physical therapist yesterday, I couldn’t hold back my tears from running down my cheek, again.

I was supposed to have been busy starting  to do some cardio at home, practicing breathing techniques and making myself stronger again after these brutal two months of hitting my body hard with all the chemicals passing through. But I just couldn’t reach my willpower, to start.

I felt terrible for my lack of enthusiasm, and was ashamed to admit that I had given in to my exhaustion and fatigue.

I thought it would be better to quit, seeing I most likely will do the same between now and the next appointment. I don’t want to impose on his valuable time any further, by having to say every two weeks that I didn’t do anything….again.

But to my surprise, and 20 soaked up tissues later, he told me, it would be more sensible to increase our visits to every week, instead of quitting. If I can’t get myself to do it at home, then at least I’m doing it once a week. And we are only going to focus on happy fun stuff. Playing Jungle gym of sorts. To take my mind off, and hopefully activate that feeling again where working out will be my Zen-zone again.

I was so thankful for his suggestion on how to proceed. I drove home feeling a lot happier, and was extreme happy with the extra tissue that was given.

That same evening, I decided to vacuum clean the attic. Tidied it up a bit, so everything was approachable and clean. I felt tiny sparks of wanting to start doing something. I cleaned the framed photos of myself,  Dana Linn Bailey and Wonder Woman, and smiled. This felt good.

I’m still not ready, but it will come back to me, I can feel it!

 

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