Just Keep Moving

I think I mentioned a couple of posts back that I’d regained my ability/desire to, and enjoyment of, exercise/running.  There’s something oddly liberating about it.  I know it’s a bit trite, but it really does blow the cobwebs away, clear the head.  And there’s the notion of running from one’s troubles, always being one step ahead.

However, with almost comic timing (because (a) I was really quickly building up both speed and distance, and (b) my brother and I are taking part in Mind Hike 2017 in little over a months time), around three months ago, I took a bit of a tumble* and sustained an injury no one can get to the bottom of.

This injury has coincided with a downturn in my Mental Health.  I don’t want to delve too deeply into the particulars of that in this post, but suffice to say I’ve lost confidence and self-esteem that were already sorely lacking.  I’ve become a bit more withdrawn again, preferring to remain hidden away or only spend time with a few close family members.  Last week, my Psychiatrist increased one of my meds, which means I’m now medicated through the day for the first time in a while.  Because of this, I’m finding it difficult to concentrate, and to focus on my OU work.  My plan for re-engagement with the CMHT has been initiated, a decision made jointly by my GP and Psychiatrist, without any input from me (although my GP did ask “are you ok with that?”, after the fact).

I’m not sure where I’m going with this…

…I say injury above because I’m pretty sure I’m recovered enough that I could now run, or exercise in some other, less ‘high-impact’ way if I wanted to.  So am I using it as a convenient reason not to go running, or back to Cani-Fit?  Probably.  Because, you see, this is what I do; when things go even slightly well, or move in what others see as the ‘right direction’ I panic, and sabotage my own hard-work and effort.  I reach a point when I believe people are expecting more and more from me, and I don’t know if I have much more than a pretty basic existence in me.  So I push my self-destruct button, come to a standstill and avoid the things that are synonymous with ‘living’.

As for the re-engagement with MH services, I’ve been there and done that…unless they can offer me something new in the way of therapy then I’m not interested and they can help by leaving me alone.

Despite being unable/unwilling to run right now, I  can still employ a similar coping strategy, one I call #justkeepmoving.  Today, Henry and I have walked the entire length of the beach twice, I’ve spent some time wandering in Sainsburys and I’ve visited my Aunt and my Brother.  I figure, as long as I keep moving, then nothing can hurt me.  But this means I’m not confronting the demons from which I run.  So I probably do need some sort of ‘help’ with that.

Sorry folks, nothing much more than a ramble here, I don’t think, but I must dash – I’ve got some moving to do.

*I was running in the dark and some pretty extreme weather conditions, with Henry attached to me via a bungee line, and caught my foot on a fallen branch**.  I went down like a tonne of bricks and landed on my face.

**tree trunk, that I really should have seen, but I’m pretty myopic at the best of times and my glasses don’t have built in window-wipers.



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