Limping in Public
Feb. 5th, 2010 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaunthieHaving the foot in various stages of out-of-commission/working again over the last few months has been annoying and uncomfortable. I pretty much anticipated that beforehand, although I had not guessed that it would take this long. But what I hadn't anticipated was the additional annoyance and uncomfortableness of visibly limping.
It's not a comfortable feeling, limping in public. And I don't just mean the physical pain that has me walking awkwardly at times.
There's the stares, which is awkward enough. Normally I'm a fairly unnoticable person, or at least I think so. I'm not precisely a wallflower, but I'm not flashy or particularly loud, either. There's not much about me to notice in a casual glance, positive or negative, under ordinary circumstances anyway. Limping changes that. I'm no longer under the general radar, and not in a good way. Some people have reacted surprisingly, um, vocally about the limp, the "OMG what happened to you?!?" sort of reaction. I'd expected a little bit of that from my friends and co-workers, but not as much as I got, and certainly I never expected anything like that from people I hardly know. (The most dramatic example of this came from a woman while walking from work to the bus stop - a woman I think was the same one I helped out with a timely brolly last year, but I'm not 100% sure of that. From her reaction, you'd think I was a cherished co-worker who had broken her leg or something like that. I appreciated her kindness and concern, but it was rather unsettling.)
So the stares are disconcerting, and the "eek!" reactions also throw my mental balance off a bit. What I think bugs me most, though, is all internal to me: the "no really, there's nothing that wrong with me, I'm getting better!" reaction I find that I'm having in response to feeling (literally) uncomfortable in my own skin. I was aware that I'm not the world's best patient; I have a bad habit of wanting to push things too quickly, among other things. I wasn't aware that I would be so self-conscious about it, or so self-defensive. Really, I just need to get over myself. It's not that big a deal, and I don't want others to make a big deal over the limp, so I shouldn't either, right? But I haven't figured out how to get around the instinctive desire to reassure the world that I am in fact fine, that really, I'm getting better, and anyway (to be Monty Python about it) it's only a flesh wound.
Sigh. Some of this is just hard-wired survival instinct, I'm sure (never let other predators know you're wounded! kind of instinct). But it certainly doesn't help matters.
I'm really, really, REALLY ready to be done with this and back to normal. Or at least my version of normal. Until then, I'll continue on as usual. And try not to let myself get too much into knots over the limping, other people's reactions to it, and my own insecurities.
It's not a comfortable feeling, limping in public. And I don't just mean the physical pain that has me walking awkwardly at times.
There's the stares, which is awkward enough. Normally I'm a fairly unnoticable person, or at least I think so. I'm not precisely a wallflower, but I'm not flashy or particularly loud, either. There's not much about me to notice in a casual glance, positive or negative, under ordinary circumstances anyway. Limping changes that. I'm no longer under the general radar, and not in a good way. Some people have reacted surprisingly, um, vocally about the limp, the "OMG what happened to you?!?" sort of reaction. I'd expected a little bit of that from my friends and co-workers, but not as much as I got, and certainly I never expected anything like that from people I hardly know. (The most dramatic example of this came from a woman while walking from work to the bus stop - a woman I think was the same one I helped out with a timely brolly last year, but I'm not 100% sure of that. From her reaction, you'd think I was a cherished co-worker who had broken her leg or something like that. I appreciated her kindness and concern, but it was rather unsettling.)
So the stares are disconcerting, and the "eek!" reactions also throw my mental balance off a bit. What I think bugs me most, though, is all internal to me: the "no really, there's nothing that wrong with me, I'm getting better!" reaction I find that I'm having in response to feeling (literally) uncomfortable in my own skin. I was aware that I'm not the world's best patient; I have a bad habit of wanting to push things too quickly, among other things. I wasn't aware that I would be so self-conscious about it, or so self-defensive. Really, I just need to get over myself. It's not that big a deal, and I don't want others to make a big deal over the limp, so I shouldn't either, right? But I haven't figured out how to get around the instinctive desire to reassure the world that I am in fact fine, that really, I'm getting better, and anyway (to be Monty Python about it) it's only a flesh wound.
Sigh. Some of this is just hard-wired survival instinct, I'm sure (never let other predators know you're wounded! kind of instinct). But it certainly doesn't help matters.
I'm really, really, REALLY ready to be done with this and back to normal. Or at least my version of normal. Until then, I'll continue on as usual. And try not to let myself get too much into knots over the limping, other people's reactions to it, and my own insecurities.
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no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-06 09:11 pm (UTC)See? It can be a fun game. ;)