Four years. One month. Eleven days. Post injury. Post going back to work, changing jobs a few times and still feeling uncontrolled anxiety at the thought of gaining weight. Still inexplicable anger at the thought of not being able to lose weight. It took two years to get back on the bike and two more to finally hit that 20 mile mark.
The ankle still hurts every now and again, stiff cramping pain to remind me that I once was and still am broken. Am I destined to feel awful for always?
People of the void; if you had my body and my life would you be able to love it better? I hate everything about myself from the physical to the the emotional. From the acne to the weight to the injury that lingers to the job I hate.