stepping the fuck out

Last night was rough. Sandpaper rough. Splinters in your asshole rough. To preface this, last weekend that good cry that I've been whining about wanting? It finally happened and I can't help but wish it didn't because I've apparently opened the floodgates and will now be crying and snotting over everything (there's a distinct possibility that this will be the case). I tried to divert the slippery mopey slope by having a one woman Justin Bieber dance party which ended in a seriously hysterical and pathetic manner; namely me sobbing to "One Time". No pride, just shame about that one. I ended up spontaneously driving out to my house in Peru for some quality puppy cuddling and bath time and just general solitude (spontaneously enough that I left the house in a pair of boxer briefs and an oversized lumberjack fleece).

Typical Bieber dance parties look very similar to this

This is pretty predictable for me...I was reading an old journal entry from October a few years back and the first sentence was "It's October which means I should go bat shit crazy any day now" (I'm so eloquent). The winters (especially these frigid soul-eating North Country winters) are never gentle with anyone but I, without fail, start having regular panic attacks, crying spells, and my skin becomes paper thin. While I might be able to tolerate it now, in a few weeks that may not be the case so I'm going to do my best to deal with it right meow.

Between being unable to attend as many practices as I'd like and my stupid crippling back pain, I'm not progressing as quickly as I'd like to be in derby. I can honestly say that at every practice I give 110% but it's so beyond frustrating to not see that pay off. I finally went to the chiropractor twice and the diagnostic tests of nerve activity, muscle activity and temperature confirmed what I'm feeling which is that the entire left side of my back, especially my lower back, is fucked. The tests looked like a red pen exploded on them. When I skate, my back starts throbbing and I lock up and get all sorts of clumsy and shaky, which means I fall, and after falling two or three times while trying to sprint, it gets increasingly difficult to get up because each time I fall, it's like a cattle prod to my back. Between the actual physical pain of skating and falling and the humiliation, it's hard not to feel immeasurably discouraged and useless.

But having amazing teammates like this sure does make it easier (photo by Peter Belanger)

So I cried. Again. Big embarrassing public tears which are the absolute worst. And when anyone asked me what was wrong, all I could do was open and close my mouth like a stupid fish. I couldn't come up with words and if I did I knew I'd cry even harder so I just drove home and tried to snap out of it.

Lately my insecurities have been running rampant but it isn't just about the days getting shorter and darker and the nights getting colder...I'm CHALLENGING myself, and it isn't supposed to be easy. I'm taking flying leaps out of my comfort zone and it'd just be naive of me to assume that it should be simple or comfortable. It's uncomfortable, it's scary, it's painful, it's sometimes disheartening, but I'm doing it.

I'm playing roller derby, one of the most physically challenging female sports in existence. I'm about to play a live show tomorrow night, something I've promised myself I'd do for years but could never muster the ovaries to do. I'm playing a crucial character in a play being put on by, in my opinion, one of the most brilliant Professors on this campus. I'm still learning how to be alone for the first time in five years. I'm trying to radically alter the way I perceive myself and simultaneously change habits that are ingrained miles deep.

It isn't supposed to be easy. But it can only get easier.

Oh, and speaking of things getting easier? I lost another 4 lbs. TAKE THAT.