I have become physically ailed and nobody cares: no thoughts, no prayers. After a bench press of nearly 10,000 pounds, a weight I can usually rep quite easily, I lacerated my tendons from my spinal column (I think). Now as I sit in this rigid state, with my back practically split in two, I can’t help but think that if this were a gun wound people would be rounding the block with quiches and cold pasta desperately attempting to bring me to a state of physical and emotional solace. However, for a reason unbeknownst to me, the sympathy I deserve eludes them.
Is it the self-inflicted nature of the injury that suppresses people’s coddling of my severed muscle tissue? Is it the lack of external damage that inhibits even my closest friends and family from giving an everloving care? I can’t turn my freaking head. I can’t ride my bike. I’m relying on my peripheral vision for gawking at women and discerning whether or not I’m about to get hit by a car. For those saying it’s “not that bad”, I nearly got pancaked by a Subaru and fell in love with a cocker spaniel in a sweater.
The few people who have extended even the slightest bit of warmth in my troubled state have asked what I’d give for full health again. My answer was simple, honest, and immediate: my friends and family. I’d abandon my loved ones if it meant relief from this dull ache between my shoulder blades. There is nothing more important to me than my health, and if it means navigating this harsh cruel world alone, I ask, what’s the difference? I’m basically doing that right now.
They say in your darkest moments you learn who your closest friends are. Am I surprised to discover I have no close friends? Absolutely. I mean, just look at me. However, does this experience make me want to change how I interact with others in the future? Not in the slightest. If anything this is a wakeup call to the fact that I’ve mistakenly surrounded myself with heartless idiots and that the only course of action to take now is to befriend only those with medical degrees who have been contracted with an ethical obligation to involve themselves each and every time I throw myself on the ground, put my hand up to my forehead, and say, “oh god I think I’m dying”, no matter how frequently.
I was hesitant to write anything at all, however given the wide outreach of my platform I knew it was my duty to be the voice for all those who suffer silently as I do. I am suffering silently, quiet as a mouse. However, while my shoulders hurt and I hardly mention it or bring it up at all, I understand that this injury is bigger than any one person. This injury is a beacon of hope for those who endure a cramp for 1-3 days and don’t think it’s worth bringing up, often, in a wide variety of social situations.
It is to those I say: it’s worth it. Trust me when I tell you, it will always be worth it.
Timothy, it was an injury from pure tomfoolery. It’s a simple reminder to do better, be better, and have better form.
I ain’t reading all that
I’m happy for you tho
Or sorry that happened
Ever try eating watermelon as a main source of happiness? Has worked for me in the past
Cracking up picturing people flooding to your apartment with pipin’ hot quiches in hand. For some reason in my mind they are desperately sprinting and the oven mitts / hot pads are plaid.
Thanks for your outreach. <3 Where do I donate?
Tim- stop your bitching. We all know this is a false injury, as you have clearly never been to a gym or done any sort of muscle building exercise. I would appreciate it if you kept your false pleas for pity out of my internet experience. In the case that this is real and it really hurts you that badly, I encourage you to seek opiates from your nearest healthcare provider.