It is three months before my fifteenth birthday and my father has started interviewing for a new coaching job which will better provide for my family of seven.
This is also when I sprained my right ankle for the first time ever. The sprain is a problem for me since I am a “ballerina in training” as I like to call it. But it is a minor sprain so I push through it because I love dancing so much.
Move forward to a month after my birthday…My dad is living in a different state having started his new job. As for me, I have sprained my right ankle a second time. Of course it is worse than the first one as my ankle is still weak. We are in school, packing the house, dealing with bullying, and trying to keep the whole family together without too much anger and frustration.
May comes around. My ankle is almost well! I will be able to play games, play the piano, and dance without hurting myself constantly! I am pumped up and decide to play a game with my friends, one which involves much running.
Running and I’m going to score!
They will all congratulate me!
A misplaced step, finding myself on the ground so sudden, and feeling…PAIN!!
Pain from my toes up through my back, I can’t move, tears streaming down my face like a river. Blurry faces, being carried, my mom, arriving at home…”You need to ice your foot” … EXCRUCIATING PAIN! “I can’t do it, I just can’t!” I cry and scream in pain.
What has happened to cause so much anguish? I realize that I have stepped into a large hole in the ground while running backwards. I have severely sprained my RIGHT ankle…again!
Next few weeks pass in a blur…crutches, ice, trying to help pack and feeling useless and in the way as a cripple, goodbye tears, moving, new faces, and fear. Living in a small town, near to where my father works, my family enjoys walking into town. This is a frustration for me as I have a sprained ankle and must limp everywhere…when limping 10 feet makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry. Eventually things begin to settle…
You may ask why I decided to relate this in the way I did. It is simply the way I relate to those frightening and painful months. So, what kind of meaning does this contain to me?
I view those months and incident as a lesson for me. I learned in a painful way the consequences of not waiting until you are fully healed to begin participating in fun events. I have seen what it means to be helpful and how to “see the job you are capable of and do it” as my dear mother likes to say.
Those months were long and hard for me.
The feelings of uselessness, of being a cripple, and other such thoughts can cripple one mentally causing a difficulty in learning and in relating to others. I had to learn how to overcome these feelings and those of fear, anger, and sorrow.
“How can I move with this ankle? I can’t do anything! Couldn’t we wait just a little bit longer before we move?”
These are just a few of the self-pitying thought I had. I had to overcome this!
I knew that this was tough for my mom and my siblings, especially my older brother. I was determined to be strong for their sake.
In the dark and when alone, did I truly feel this way? Of course not, but I thought it was necessary.