It’s impossible to define a person by one single line, yet we often do just that. Whether it’s the Bridget Jones style of introducing someone at a party with thoughtful details, or the personality types in work-place communication seminars, there are “quintessence” identifiers we use as shorthand for ourselves and others.
That’s Alex – he doesn’t wear shoes.
That’s JJ – she’s in a rock band.
That’s Kevin – he runs marathons.
This very website is predicated on the notion that I, Kevin, run. It even features the word “run” in the URL twice. So it’s one of those defining characteristics of me as a person.
And yet I find myself unable to run. The damage I have done through a recent fall exacerbated by running a race this past week feels… irreparable? I have no one to blame but myself. It is as if I had a blowout on my car and decided, oh, well, it’ll be fine to drive on this rim of a wheel for another 1000 miles – what’s the harm in that? And now the frame is bent, the axle is all out of whack, and frankly I find myself with stabbing lightning bolts of pain depending on my movement, be it shifting positions while sitting (or sleeping) or trying to move about my small little hovel of a house.
It’s only been a few days and yet I find myself wondering if I’ll ever be able to run again. That’s overly dramatic and foolish but it has led me down a dark path of what will I do when inevitably I cannot run again… and the realization that that day is far closer than I had imagined.
Though there’s a danger of this turning into “wallowkevinwallow.com,” I do find myself sinking into the depressive quick sand. It’s not like in the movies where every action seemingly sinks you faster and faster to the waist, the torso, to the neck in mere moments. True quick sand is not so quick… it’s more of an insidious slow creep and even then it’s more likely you’ll be stuck rather than sink into oblivion. But stuck and alone and wallowing can be just as dangerous and deadly as the suffocating swallowing of the movies for our hapless Kevin.
Or so it seems to me. And I’m Kevin. And I’m wallowing. So, well, there ya go.
I really am in a lot of pain. I really am in a depressed state that spirals downward. I feel physically terrible, I drown my sorrows in panic attack binge eatings that make me feel worse about myself emotionally and physically, and then I find myself seeking comfort in lousy choices (I’ll just lie here in a fit of slothdom…I’ll just open this bag of cookies… I’ll just… sigh) only to have the walls close in on me and make me feel ever more helpless and pathetic.
And yet my efforts these days to rise up lead only to more stabbing pains and shaky legs. I physically cannot walk in a straight line without grabbing onto something to steady me through the pain of movement.
What have I done?
When introduced in the future it won’t be, “this is Kevin – he runs marathons.”
It may be at best, “This is Kevin – you wouldn’t know it by looking at him but he used to run marathons.”
At its truest though it may be, “This is Kevin – he’s stupid. He’s got a blog –it’s all about the things he’s ruined over the years. It’s called www.ruinkevinruin.com.”
I feel terrible. And I worry it’s the new normal.
Insider tip: When feeling awful and sad and frustrated and body-type hating, it is a colossal mistake to step on the scale to see what the weight damage might be. This will only movie-making-style suck you deeper and deeper into the sandy deathtrap known as depression. So basically per usual the advice is don’t do as Kevin does.