Tuesday, October 13, 2009
I don't think I did justice to my ankle injury back in July. These pictures are from between days 10-12 of my injury - look at all that nasty bruising. You don't even get a feel for how swollen it was from every angle from these shots. Ew. Yes, even after 10 days my foot looked like that. Did I mention that although I was treating the injury as a sprained ankle, after going for an X-Ray and subsequent MRI back in the states, it was revealed that I fractured my heel bone and bruised two metatarsal bones in my foot? How did I imbibe this unrealistic conclusion that I had sprained my ankle, and nothing worse? I'm not a doctor - I'm an idiot. In retrospect I am surprised at my tolerance for pain and my internalized denial. Perhaps I subconsciously didn't want to face reality - after all, I was all alone in Ireland with NO health insurance from May onward. I think a full realization of my injury would have triggered a freak out. For sure.
What bothers me now is that my foot still pains me. When I get up in the morning, when I wear flat shoes, when I sit for awhile then get up, when I go running - but more so after I finish. I'm still not cleared by the doctor to exercise but have started light running. In the grand timeline of my life it has only been 3 months, but I really am foolish and I hope that my neglect of seeking ANY treatment abroad (and walking on it after only 2 weeks) doesn't cause me chronic pain for the rest of my life. It would be an unbearable reminder of my immeasurable idiocy.
I am not feeling creatively open at the moment. I'm really only writing because I haven't in over a month. So mundane. Robotic, detached, perpetually lusting after memories of Dublin that I recall constantly as I go about through my daily routine. Memories and people. And places. And rain-slicked cobblestone streets. My most potent memories, largely, are not memories at all but feelings. Literally reactions from my insides brought upon by day dreaming. Or frozen moments that I envision in complete detail in my mind.
I feel so shallow here, not in terms of being materialistic or ignorant, but in that I have nothing inside of me. Vapid. I'm not challenged or invigorated by anything new, and some aspects of my life here that I used to enjoy are pretty empty for me now. I can't help the feeling of being trapped, and at a loss.
I know I can fight this if I put the energy into it. I will, perhaps I'm only tired.
If my foot would heal completely I would be much improved.