If I reflect and consider life pre stroke I was pretty relaxed, focused and just living my vanilla life. I had hobbies, primarily:

• The gym 4 or 5 times a week, I enjoyed putting my music on, having a set program to work through and seeing physical progression which made me feel good.
• Gymnastics, a couple of hours a week I’d throw myself around like a rag doll. I wasn’t very good at it, but it was fun.
• If I’d had a bad day at work I’d very likely go to the gym and put all that frustration into a heavy work out.
• I’m fortunate enough to live somewhere surrounded by green spaces and quiet; if the world was all a bit much I’d happily hop in my car, drive somewhere nice, wander in nature, then likely get some food.
• The time in life I have needed these outlets most have been post stroke when I’ve been angry at situations, hurt, disappointed and low.
• However I cannot physically do the workout I’d love. The idea of throwing a bench press around sounds fantastic, just not physically possible.
• I’d love to smash out a small routine on the rings or run full pelt launching myself at a foam pit
• I’d love to drive myself to the edge of the peaks, have a trot around a small village , grab lunch and enjoy some quiet. And yes, I can, and do walk but I’m currently not driving again and eating out is a whole performance especially if solo.

There’s a malevolence to this. I’ve never needed an outlet as much as the past couple of years but the physical limitation prevents me from doing it. Then I get more frustrated.

His friends. His home. His job. Almost everything that defined him. How was a man supposed to come to terms with a thing like that?

📖- pines, Blake crouch, 2012

Yes I normally post song lyrics but I’m deep in a reading phase at the moment