You see for a normal person, what unfolded yesterday would probably not have been of any major significance whatsoever. To many it would have been just something that, once it has happened, will be brushed over and forgotten about in a matter of hours. But for me, the memory of what occured in my garden yesterday is still as sharp and as fresh as a rose thorn pushed into the tip of a finger. Because I remember exactly the taste of the fear I had felt in that moment...The stinging in my eyes as I struggled to hold back the tears. It was just an ordinary day. Mam had made me hot chocolate and had gone off to work, and, as was often my custom on a sunny day, I had pottered outside with mug and laptop in my arms. And then, suddenly and horribly, my smooth pace was cut short my right foot smashed into the large watering can which had been placed at the edge of the concrete. Being full to the brim with water, the big, green-coloured can hardly moved at all with the impact - but I certainly did. Lurching forward, caught off balance, I flung out my arms desperately, and suddenly my fingers came into contact with the smooth wood of the patio table that, having remained dormant and unused in the garage all winter, had only just been positioned there by Daddy last weekend.
But as I managed to catch myself, I placed too much pressure on my right knee and suddenly felt a sharp pain. I sat down hard in the little chair by the tale and burst into tears - and no, not because of the aching sensations in my kneecap. It was because I realised just how close I had come to falling, falling onto the pitiless, hard concrete of the patio. There was every possibility that I could have broken a bone.
I might as well be made of glass. If I fall, I shatter.
My knee was a bit better today, though it is still very sore and I am limping ever so slightly. But on this occasion, I was lucky; I got off lightly, with a twisted knee, by the looks of things. But on the other side of the coin, it makes me bitterly despondant to contemplate how just by landing at a slightly awkward sort of poisition on my right leg, I have ended up injuring myself, again. Again, doing something which normal people could probably do without any effort at all. But for me, it's different. Running, jumping, skipping, hopping...all of them, I know at my present state, I just can't risk doing, because of the weak, fragile structure of my skeleton.
What happened to me yesterday serves to as just yet another sad reminder to me of just how weak my body is...because of my eating disorder.
I know that all I can do now is give recovery all that I possibly have. I just hope with all my heart that if I keep on fighting and trying my best, I will be able to improve my bones, make them as strong as they could possibly be, what with the brand of osteoporosis branded upon them for the rest of my life.
Please, please, please. I know I have probably said this many times, but please - if you can't seem to find any motivation or reason to fight your eating disorder, think of the price you will pay, in the future. Think of the toll it is taking upon your very own body. And when you hear the word future, you might be inclined to think of, well, ages away, maybe...when you might consider yourself as "old". Don't. I learned the price at a much, much younger age than that. So fight back now and MAKE THAT CHANGE before it is too late! <3 xxx
Me and my special furry friends at Christmas, not long before I went into hospital. <3 xxx