I had this thought last night.  I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and that my higher power is looking out for my best interests.  The series of 4 minor injuries last year around this time seriously interfered with my plans, but I was able to see that it was my body's way of telling me it was time to rest.  I wasn't taking care of myself or giving me the time I needed to recover on a daily basis.  This point was proven when they were immediately followed by a far more serious injury that knocked me off my feet.  I understood, but couldn't do it.  I am after all a compulsive over-exerciser, and that was my only strategy for preventing my compulsive overeating.  So when I refused to take the hint, I got hit with another injury that has baffled me.  It feels different, heals different, and no matter how well I think I'm protecting it while I work out, it's not getting the rest it needs to recover.  I feel like there were many reasons for this one.  Again- it was the final message about learning to take time off, but without being forced out of comission, I never would have been willing to remove myself from my regular training to seek treatment for my eating disorder.  I've been so confused and frustrated as to why it's lasted so long, but last night, it hit me.  God is doing for me what I couldn't do for myself, and someday I'll probably thank him for it, but right now I'm pissed.  I don't get to heal and return to full physical activity until I learn to live without it.  I have to know who I am and how to BE in the world without relying on skills and physicality to define me.

I was at a low point last night.  I was working, and was abusing my injury more than I have in several months.  I realized that probably the past 8 weeks of doing practically nothing, and the past few days of doing ABSOLUTELY nothing may have gone down the tubes because of the mediocre activity I was doing.  It was nothing spectacular.  I didn't feel like I did it well, but it was too much, and I was swollen within minutes of beginning.  It only got worse.  I couldn't even really enjoy the adrenaline or the workout because I was fighting tears.  I felt like the only way I'd ever be able to heal was if I was kryogenically frozen so that I could remain unconscious during the healing process.  Then I reconsidered, and decided some kind of anesthetic induced hybernation would be more effective.  I don't think the body heals when you're frozen.  All of my muscles would atrophy, but I'd probably lose a lot of weight.  Then I'd be healed and skinny.  I could rebuild the muscle.  I like doing that.  I know.  that's really sick, but that's what I felt.  It doesn't feel that far off from what the past month or 2 has been like anyway.  I feel like I'm just killing time until I can start "living" again.  because I don't know how to live without my physical ability.  I used to say that I would keep doing crazy things like bunji jumping and sky diving until I get so old and decrepit that it kills me, because once my body can't handle those things, what's the point of living?  I truly felt and believed that.  My opinion has changed only enough to know intellectually that there's something inherently wrong with that.  I have to learn to live for other things.  I have to know who I am.  Being in a coma won't fix that.  I feel like even with the perfect rest, perfect supplements, perfect medecine and treatment, my injury would never heal.  I feel like God gave it to me to force me to learn who I am.  Physical ability has served me well, but I rely too heavily on it, and God will not remove my injury and restore my ability until I learn to live.  I can do it like program: as quickly or as slowly as I want to, but it's not going to fix itself if I just wait around.  Last night, it felt like a miserable surrender, but today it feels a little more hopeful.  Like when I first went to OA.  I hated it, but if recovery was what I had to do to get thin, fine.  I'd do it.  But I began to see what recovery meant, and how it could change my life.  Then recovery became more important than physical results.  Right now, getting to know myself sounds interesting, but tedious, boring, painful, and really really HARD!  but I'm willing to do it if that's what it takes to get my legs back to full capacity.  Someday, my life will be of greater value to me than my physical strength and agility.  That's when they'll return.  At least that's what I think.  Which leaves me with the problem of ...wait no.  I'm still thinking of this the wrong way.  It's not just about how do I avoid harmful activities.  It's about how do I fill my life with meaningful non-harmful people and experiences.  That does sound better.  I just don't get the crutch of exercise.  I'm gonna try to look at it as an exciting challenge.  Where to start?  How about a 4th step.