09/03/2025
Today’s been an emotional one. I stepped outside, let myself cry, and allowed the tears to just come. It’s hard to put into words everything I’m feeling, but I’ll try.
A week ago, my cast came off, and now I’m in a boot. I thought it would feel like progress—and in some ways, it does—but it also unlocked a new wave of emotions.
Being in that cast for six weeks was brutal. It felt like a vice, trapping the swelling with nowhere to go. Even small things—walking to the kitchen, taking a shower—were all I could manage before the pain forced me to lie back down with my leg elevated. Nights were even worse. I couldn’t take anti-inflammatories, just Tylenol, and I iced it constantly, even through the cast. So when it finally came off, I felt relief.
But then came the reality: my leg doesn’t look or feel like mine anymore. My foot, my ankle—they feel detached. My brain tells them to move, but they don’t respond the way they used to. That hit me hard. This is a whole new reality. My body has to be rebuilt, and it’s not the same as before.
And that’s where the mental and emotional struggle begins. The physical pain is one thing, but the mental toll—missing the things that once brought me joy, the loneliness of isolation, little to no human interaction, the loss of independence—has been the hardest part. I’ve watched people slowly fade from my life. Relationships end. My circle is small, and some days the silence feels so heavy.
This injury is no joke. People say they’d rather go through childbirth and back surgery combined before facing this again. I believe them. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to push through—even harder than my divorce.
And yet, I’m grateful. For the support group that reminds me I’m not alone. For small freedoms like the scooter and the IWalk ( )that gave me mobility. For the lessons in patience I never asked for but have no choice but to learn.
Today, I’m just having a moment. Letting myself feel the weight of it all. And that’s okay. Tomorrow, I’ll reset. Tomorrow will be better.
❤️
