omg what has happened to me

Sometimes I feel old when I listen to binaural beats and microdose mushrooms and maybe ½ an edible, just to take the edge off, an ibuprofen/Tylenol combo when I’m sore from squats at the gym and I can get onto the floor to foam roll but getting up is another story.  I waddle like a toddler who has just learned to use their legs, using momentum to propel myself into the kitchen to eat 3 mini muffins, ½ a sleeve of low sodium pringles and think fondly (maybe too fondly?) of the chicken wings I had with bobby on Friday.

I am the luckiest girl alive to have a friend who will let you know when the line for the pie has died down so you can get another slice of cake, who will order everything on the menu to share and will walk the leftovers back to the car so you won’t have to because they know you have bad knees. everyone knows you have bad knees.  you tell everyone.  You tell lyft drivers and people in the grocery store who see you using your cart like a walker. I am closer every day to being as geriatric as my knees and my hips.  And my ankles.  And my feet.  

It's all connected.

I do bridges and banded clamshells and all the physical therapy exercises. I curse when I do them. I’m angry that this is my life now.  On the floor. The floor I have a hard time getting up from. I mourn the days I could overexercise, the ones that put me in this position. Bean wanders up to my body laying prone and licks the side of a calf before positioning him exactly where I will kick him in the face if I do more dead bugs.

I know I am searching for an easier way to exist in this body. 

But this is it.  I am doing the things and no one promised anyone that having a body is easy.