I ran. I really, really, REALLY didn’t want to. It’s been over a week since I’ve done anything at all, I’ve had a minging cold, and it’s been emotionally hellish. I had yet another of my all too frequent and very dramatic meltdowns last night, and refused to get up this morning.
I cannot let this beat me, I just can’t. For me, for Hubby, for the kids, there’s too much at stake. I know what I need to do, however much I don’t want to. So, I ran. It hurt every step of the way. My entire body felt like lead and I thought I was going to puke, plus, it’s daylight and I really prefer running in the dark. But I kept going. I remembered something Therapist has said to me so many times – just put one foot in front of the other and keep going.
I didn’t get a wonderful hit of endorphins, and I now have sore legs. But I also have the knowledge that however much it doesn’t feel like it, I’ve done something to start to take back some control again.