Pushing Myself Physically, Closing Doors Emotionally

Compensating with Excessive Physical Effort

According to most of my friends and fellow dancers, I’m a lot more active than most people so soon after major surgery. In my defense, I thought 3 months was excessive in the first place, though in some instances, it’s been spot on. I’ve increased my daily walks, albeit accidentally, to about 2.65 miles, but I know when I need to cut back.

Case in point: Thursday night, after walking 2.65 miles, dancing most of the line dances between 6 and 9, and spending about 35 minutes working on a couple of the new ones at home, I woke up after a mere hour of sleep with my legs complaining. This continued hourly until I finally took a couple of Aleve around 7, and finally, got up and moved. Clearly, I overdid the exercise, or underdid the stretching, or both after the plethora of exercise.

Friday began with 45 minutes of circuit training with my personal trainer who decided it was time to step things up a notch or twelve. Though my legs were tired afterwards, it meant they were well warmed up for 90 minutes of ballet an hour later. I’d already decided to go dancing again, so I knew I’d better respect the body that had already been well-worked by 2, and shortened my walk to about 1.5 miles instead of the usual 2.65. It’s not that I didn’t think I could make the 2.65 mile circuit. It’s because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be dancing very much later. I may be pushing my limits every day, but I also know how far I can push them without being in complete misery for the next few days.

Overcompensating

There is a slight down-side to pushing myself to return to my normal (or better) activity levels as soon as possible. I’m allowing myself to feel a bit envious of the love and support being showered on someone else right now, who’s also in healing mode. I know it’s silly, but my feelings are my feelings. Eventually, I will work through them, and stop feeling sorry for myself, but for now, I need to sit with the feelings, and allow myself to have them without judgement. In the meantime, the more I move my body, the better for me physically, mentally, and emotionally. Right now, I might feel like it’s small compensation for the lack of support I feel I’m attracting, but I’ll be stronger in the long run.

I also know the outward show of strength I learned as a trauma response when I wasn’t supported as a child works against me at times…but it’s all I know after so many years of using it as a fallback whenever times got tough. I know I don’t easily allow people in, nor do I know how to ask for support in a healthy way. Before I can form complete sentences, the trauma response kicks in and chastises me for whining. Though I’ve learned to stop blaming myself for those trauma responses, I’m still working through the tendency to be overly responsible for everything that happens in my life. The healing journey continues, in spite of those areas where I’m still stuck.

Meanwhile, I continue to move my body in hopes I’ll ultimately cause all the stuck energy to move itself along until it pushes through the clogs, or I find a way to loosen them to improve the flow. I suspect pushing myself to get out of that sticky, stodgy comfort zone will start to make a difference as long as I’m persistent and don’t let up when it becomes harder. I understand I can’t help who I am right now, but I can make small changes to clear the way to become a better person inside and out. It begins and ends with gratitude.

Grateful for Another Round of Lessons

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for learning to let myself feel the feels, even when they’re unpleasant.
2. I’m grateful for learning the me I am now isn’t the me I have to remain.
3. I’m grateful for understanding lack of support is a direct result of my own past actions and behaviors.
4. I’m grateful for learning I can wallow in self-pity for a short time, but then I need to get moving in one way or another.
5. I’m grateful for knowing I have a long way to go before I learn to let people get close to me, because each time I get burned, I fall back into old habits, even if I don’t go back as far, nor stay there as long.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.