Thursday, June 12, 2014

Invisible Crutches

Still no skating.....

Still on crutches.....

Living on the edge is much more fun when it's an edge you chose.  Crutches are not my choice, but they are necessary right now; at least the ones you can see me walking with.

A crutch is anything that serves as a temporary and often inappropriate support, supplement, or substitute; a prop.

A crutch doesn't always have to be a piece of wood or metal that props you up...it can be the invisible kind....
food
friends
chocolate
sleeping
comfort
sunshine
noise
music
clothes
feelings
dishonesty
perfectionism
silence

For instance, if I choose to be silent for the better of mankind, then that is not a crutch.  It is a wise choice.  However, if I choose to be silent as 'revenge' or a sort of 'attack' or to 'prove a point' - that isn't a healthy choice. It's a bad crutch.

Today I went for another laser treatment on my ankle.  Imagine lying facedown on the bed in a dark room while the assistant runs a warm metal thing over your ankle.  The laser beam restores energy and nutrients back into your cells they say.  Hopefully this works!

While you are laying there, it's tempting to lay your head down and take a nap.  But the girl who gives me the laser treatment is a bit chatty.  She wants to know what my day holds for me.  She probably can't see me sigh.  I don't want to talk today.  I just want to be left alone.

I have a decision to make.  Do I really tell her what's on my plate or do I make it short and sweet? 
There are actually some very monumental things on my plate, but I don't want to talk about it.

* A first time meeting with those who care for my Mother in her new room.   An emotional event.
* A brainstorming meeting tonight about my upcoming Christmas show.  A joyous event.

She wouldn't know what I'm talking about on either count, so I'm sure she'd ask more questions. Why bother to start.  I've already been prone to tears for the past few weeks since I've had to move my Mother and I don't want to turn on that faucet in front of a stranger so I just resort to crutches.  I don't say anything.

But I know that isn't fair to her, so I go for the short and bland, after I sigh again, inwardly. 

"Meetings," I say, with my head half down in the pillow.  "My day consists of meetings".  I knew that wasn't a great answer for an inquiring mind, but it would have to do. 

My invisible crutches are functioning well it would seem.

I'd like to be rid of both kinds of crutches.











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