Fractured but still joyful

Drawing and doodling continue to be my primary way of relieving anxiety; however, I may have a new way in a few months. Before the wrists, my doctor approved me to do one hour of vigorous exercise each day. I enjoy exercise. Always have.

I was going to go to the gym on “amputee night, ” as well as other planned physical activities. I can still do some stuff but the gym is going to have to wait. It’s going to be a bit b4 I can do that much.

It’s the small bones in the base of the thumb and wrist area that are broken. I chose not to have a fixed cast bc I’m a bit claustrophobic. So far I’m dealing better adjusting to the ones I have. Still kills me it had to come out of my pocket!

I’ve been painting more rocks while wearing the basic wrist braces I have. I also noticed that lately, hearts have shown up quite a bit in my art. I put in on the chest of figures or hide them in crosshatch or shade. Now I’ve moved to painting hearts on random rocks. I feel compelled to do it. I’ve not explored why, and I probably won’t. But I am allowing myself to paint hearts on rocks.

One rock has a heart on top but the rest of the rock is black. Mixed in the black are hints of blue and orange. I sealed them with Mod Podge. I’ve still got the painted rock from when I was in the hospital. πŸ™‚ These guys make great encouragement when arranged together in a bowl.

The casts kinda hurt and they don’t let me do too much. Using the restroom is interesting. Lol.

For a bit the broken wrists took me back to one of the best years growing up. During my Sophomore year I rode my bike to theater club and loved it. I saw my mother very little. I remember fondly how life was very much a teen movie plot. I remember the summer and how much fun I was having. My sister had fun too but she shattered her wrist that year. She also stole my boyfriend. See what I mean, teen movie drama! The Breakfast Club. Pretty in Pink! There was deception, inner conflict, school life and music πŸ™‚ I remember dedicating love songs on the radio to my boyfriend. I love memories like this bc they’re normal and innocent. Sisters make immature mistakes. We were just kids.

It’s helpful for me to look back and see normal parts of childhood. It feels important to have affirmation that I wasn’t a victim child being abused 24/7, like that was all I was alive for. I had good times, especially life as a student.


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