Moving

Moving is scary. I'm not talking about packing up your stuff into little boxes and changing house. I'm talking about getting up off your butt, and well. . .moving.

I'm not 100% sure why exactly. It just is to me. I can control EVERYTHING from sitting on my butt. I've made a life long study of it. The problem is that it will be an all too brief lifelong study if I don't stopy this study and get off my butt and MOVE.

I like yoga, but its scary too. Its moving in one place. I have to balance, which is tricky. and I have to stretch which is tricky and ouchy. I still like it when I find myself in the pose, and it feels like I'm doing it right and I just breathe. For that moment, I like yoga.

All other types of exercise are CRAP. I hate them. They scare me, to the point where I found myself dissociating during my walk today. That's a new one, incidentally. Never used to do that - that I remember anyway.

I didn't used to be like this. Once upon a time, I was an active and energetic kid. Then I was diagnosed with diabetes, and my mother panicked. She instilled in me a fear that if I was active, my sugar would drop and I would die. Life being the utterly ironic scenario that it is, I'm having the opposite problem. If I don't get off my butt and move more, I will die WAY too young.

So, I'm moving more. I'm getting up and walking around the building on my breaks. Not outside. Its December and I'm in DC - too f-ing cold! But inside, in the nice wide, flat hallways, I'm walking more.

Its terrifying. Its tiring. And I can't even do what other do and reward myself with something tasty. . .

::SIGH:: This is going to be okay. I know it will. I've just got to get over a few mental hiccups, and everything will be fine.

::Grabs big shovel, places it in wheel barrow:: Time to shovel some MORE emotional shit! Oh joy, oh rapture, oh BARF!