Just blogging, Weekly Diary

One week in bed

Get your mind out of the gutter you little perv, it’s not what you’re thinking 😜
Today is day seven of me being cooped up at home, just moving from my bed to my couch and vice versa. The reason for this is that I had a small surgery last week because I tore my meniscus while jogging sometime last year. It’s funny that I, out of all people, managed to have a sports injury – I’m not athletic at all. In all honesty, I’m already proud when I’m “working out” for ten minutes, meaning just lying on the floor, on my back, and occasionally lifting my butt in the air while watching beautiful people on shows like Bachelor in Paradise. I do this since I was a teenager. Back then, I spent my afternoons doing bridges and watching Fashion TV. I mean, it’s all about the right mindset, isn’t it? And since I truly believe that Subliminals can work, I’m just helping my mind visualize.

But I also have phases where I’m super motivated to work out and go for a run. Like after eating too many carbs (thanks Diet Culture!), when realizing that summer is only one week away, or on January 1. On those occasions, which occur about every couple of months, I’m also convinced that one workout will fully transform my body and that my before-and-after-running look in the mirror will be just as striking as the fake transformations on infomercials. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, tearing my meniscus during a one-hour run after several months of no training at all isn’t that surprising.

Outside my rare exercise crazes, I’m really not athletic. I mostly just go for long walks. Granted, I’m walking at a very aggressive pace, but that’s as far as it goes. I never understood this mentality of No pain, no gain. One could argue that I should have it in my DNA to excel at competitive sports, my mom used to be an athlete, but I just never saw the point of jumping the highest or running the fastest. I also don’t really like being sweaty. PE was my personal hell at school.

I remember that classmates tried to encourage me for sprints, saying stupid things like “Imagine there’s a tiger trying to get you”, thinking that it’d make me go faster. Sure, we were only 11 years old, but a tiger? I’m not even addressing the fact that cities are growing faster than carcinogenic cells, we succeeded in reducing the population of wolves to a minimum, they’re almost extinct in Germany. And you want me to imagine being chased by a fucking tiger??? Besides, I’m pretty sure it’d be a very bad idea to run from a tiger, even though it probably wouldn’t make that big of a difference if you’re being ripped apart after 3 or 5 seconds.

But even though I’m everything but a fitness addict, I’m really struggling with sitting at home all day long. It’s crazy how much the physical state impacts the mind. Yesterday has been the worst day yet, I didn’t get anything done. Being physically lazy also turned my mind into a lethargic mush. The lack of vitamin D, back pain from being sedentary all day long, and the absence of social interaction of course didn’t help with my mood. And if that wasn’t enough, my inner critic started telling me that I’m an absolute failure because I didn’t use my time efficiently. Fun times.

Fortunately, I’m slowly able to walk again, and I also had the first appointment for my physical therapy. It’s really fun watching my body recover. And makes being grateful so much easier.

Usually, I’m not really able to leave my mindset of a spoiled brat. Sure, I get the logic behind being grateful for simple things, even if it’s something that seems pretty basic, like running water, food, electricity, etc. But I also think that having very basic needs covered should be the norm for everyone everywhere. So when I try to write down the things I’m grateful for, I usually end up yelling “Fuck this shit, fuck the government, fuck this existence!”. So it’s not really having the desired effect. I’d rather go on r/ABoringDystopia to find some peace of mind. I guess misery does love company, and thanks to this subreddit, I feel less alone in my existential angst. Just look at the screenshot on the right. If you’re a millennial living in an apartment that’s just about the size of a shoebox, having toast for dinner because that’s the only thing you can afford until the end of the month even though it’s only the 10th, you might find some comfort in the fact that you’re not alone leading a crappy existence.

But right now, I really don’t care about not being able to afford anything and being a disappointment to my parents because I’m learning how to walk again! Without support! It’s like I’m being transported back to when I was an infant and when the world was fun and fascinating instead of sad and depressing. And since my doctor mentioned that it might take up to three months until I reach full mobility again, I can look forward to reaching a new milestone every day. Until I’m fully recovered and back to drowning my sorrows in alcohol, just like everyone else. What a time to be alive.

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