Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Things were going so much better.

Not perfect by any means, but better.

I still had days where I cried all day and I couldn’t get up the oomph to do anything.

But I had other days where I got dressed with make-up and everything, and went out to lunch with a friend, and worked out and took a shower and played the piano and went shopping IN Kroger and drove on the expressway.

I asked my doctor, is this normal?  Am I still going to have days where I just cry and cry.

He said yes.  He can’t cure my bipolar, he can just make it better.  Everyone has bad days, mine just look worse than others.

It was a relief.  It gave me hope.

And then I fell.

I was going down a couple of stairs and somehow my foot landed on it’s side and bent over itself and down I went.  A stage 2 sprain and a slightly torn tendon leaving me with some fancy kind of tendonitis.  And I’m in a boot.

1.      It hurts.  A lot.

2.      I can’t drive for at least three weeks and suddenly my independence and a lot of my new skills are no longer an option.

But it’s not the end of the story.

I asked my mom what she needed me to be able to do for me to go home.  She said:  feed myself.  Three times a day and two snacks (that’s the rule of my eating disorder specialist).

So that’s what I’m working on.  I ordered my groceries from Walmart delivery, and I picked meals that are a little easier than what I would usually try if I only had to cook once a week.  So far, I’m pretty much failing, but I’m hoping it will get easier.  Plus, I was determined to start on Sunday, so the last couple of days don’t really count anyway, right?

I like the phrase two steps forward one step back, because it reminds me that hurting my foot didn’t take me back to before I started making progress.  It’s just a hiccup.  So, I’m going to throw myself into this cooking and eating thing, and I’m going to nail it.  Because that’s just who I am.  I don’t go halfway.