I was woken from the most fabulous dream. Figure skating in my little red dress, I was young again. effortlessly rolling over the pristine wooden floor. no pain. oh gawd NO PAIN, to be transported back to that place and time where there was no pain in my body. a time before all the injuries.
a time where I could spin dizzying sit spins and do lay backs and arabesques that circled the rink.
to a time where my soul was at peace and the world couldn't catch me. and no pain, no freaking pain.
made getting up this morning so very hard. to leave the slippery dreamsleep to return to this plane of tortured existence. angry and suicidally depressed. fight this body to make it function daily. why did my mind torture me like that? to remind me of what it was like to not wear pain like armor 24/7???
that was such a sweet sweet torturous dream, such evil to transport me back to that time of freedom and youth. To remind me of all that I have lost and will never get back.I am angry that i finally find peace within to live this life and I now must do it in a failing, dying body. i am angry and I shoulder my pack and journey on, knowing this frozen dark fog will thaw and give way to the frail green spring grass poking up to reclaim the sunlight in a few weeks. I will hang on as I always do. and if my hands should get tired others will hold on for me.
Dang can write when I am drowning in the headspace of depression!! That little quip is from a painful manifesto I wrote years ago. I really wish I could turn the depression-writing headspace off and on at will.
The roller rink is one place I have found that I do not want to go to anymore. I have taken my son three times and the effects on me each time is just a steam roller of devastation, I end up bawling my eyes out and sick to my stomach. I loved to skate. I was good. I can't can dance or sing but I could do beautiful spins and jumps.
The roller rink took me to places the real world could not. There I was not shy, there I was full of confidence and grace, something I lack COMPLETELY in real life. There for two hours the unrest in my soul stilled. There the mental health issues were numbed into silence by the sound of my skates on the floor. There my body that I warred with 24/7 existed in a peaceful co-existence.
I was at home there like no other place.
Skating I believe was my "therapy" until I could actually get into therapy.
I will always skate in my dreams, and my memories. There I am always young and beautiful. In a way I am glad my children are not keen on skating a lot. I just don't think I could handle going there on a routine basis.
I don't discourage them from going, I ask my son every month if he wants to attend his school skate night. I will go to support my children, even if it means having to comfort my inner skater who gets gutted each visit.