A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not “Crazy” | The Current Conscience

A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not “Crazy” | The Current Conscience

it's not supposed to be like this

the monday after the it happened, i was nearing the end of my swim, when it hit me: it's not supposed to be like this. 

(it's hard to swim while fighting back tears, your goggles filling up from the inside out, gasping for breath under water.)

even if this isn't my last regionals, each one is special, different, important. the culmination of months of hard work. i had been feeling the fastest in years, perhaps ever. i'd finally figured out my forehand, gaining the confidence i'd been seeking for so long. roles on the team were finally being solidified. and then in the blink of an eye, my fate my altered.

everyone has their injury stories. mine is not really that remarkable. i probably over-trained and was fatigued. it was preventable, not some horrific accident. (and yet the seeming mildness of it makes it that much more infuriating and difficult to swallow. as if i could just suck it up and play through the twinge, it will be alright.)

severe or not, any injury still calls into stark clarity the role ultimate plays in my life: the pillars that support the roof of my self-esteem. the rock i build my identity upon. the house i build my home within. the respite from the storm of life i seek out weekly, daily. so it's no wonder my reserve for putting up with the daily onslaught of unpleasantries has worn thin.

and yet i can point to numerous instances of "it could be worse". two -- no three -- no four -- of my friends tore their ACL this year. i witnessed (on TV) the colts' eric foster dislocate his ankle in a season-ending injury on monday night. nick collins, free safety for the green bay packers, suffered a neck injury that could potentially end his career. forget about injuries for a second -- steve jobs died today of cancer at the age of 56. i just found out that a friend from grad school took her own life at age 30. i'm sure she thought once or twice: "it's not supposed to be like this." 

these stories don't quite make me feel better. i know i should be thankful - for how relatively minor my injury is, for otherwise health, for support, for life. i should be thankful i have a job, even if the commute sucks. i should be thankful for loved ones, even if the commute sucks. etc etc. but i can't quite get there. i'm not one to have a master plan. my dreams are vague. but i know it's not supposed to be like this.

and so, the wednesday before regionals as i am sitting on the couch hooked up to an e-stim machine, electronically willing my hamstring to heal, i am trying to be thankful. yeah, it's not supposed to be like this. but at least it is.