Stress and Broken Legs Don't Mix

I have been on an emotional rollar coaster the past couple months. Between all the drama with the leg, the constant treatment needed for that, making it to appointments, stress from my job(s) (ironically it's more my part-time job stressing me out than my full time job), having to go through the process of looking at a house, finding the money to make the deposits and extra month of rent, to arranging movers, packing up my entire life, moving itself, then finishing up the move - all of this with not a single day off, OH, and ya, that dream trip to Italy I've been planning for the past year - ya, we leave on Monday. I won't be finished moving until Sunday morning.

All of this has me in varying states of emotions that I'm really struggling to contain sometimes. Some things make me very happy - my new commute is great, I like my little place (it's a bit small, but live-with-able), my roomies seem pretty cool, I'm riding and racing and I'm heading off on a dream trip. Some things have me wanting to scream - I really wanted ONE day off to work on the moving stuff, but that couldn't happen; I couldn't afford to have the movers take all the little stuff, so I've been back and forth to finish that all up, plus all the cleaning; moving in general is stressful enough; finances have me scraping and groveling; and let's not even get going on the leg saga.

I try to "pretend" that the leg stuff is minor, and that I'll heal and be fine, but that's not necessarily reality, and I'm a realist. Reality is that I still have, at a minimum, one more surgery yet this year (potentially more if the infection has spread), I may still very well lose my leg someday (which sometimes makes all the PT and dealing with recovery stuff feel like "is it worth it?"), and I'm still dealing with all of this very, very much alone.

Add in little things like, as I increase my activity, I pay for it dearly with every. single. step being a reminder that I will never be normal again. Medical bills piling up on my desk with no way to pay them, can't even really afford another payment plan. Worried about work and living after my next surgery and how long that's going to have me laid up. Wondering how the hell I'm going to get around during that time when I only have my (manual) truck to drive (I do have my scooter which I could probably make work around town/to get to BART).

There's a lot of things I'm hoping for, but if there's one thing this entire situation has taught me is that "hope" is about the worst thing you can do. You're best off understanding reality, knowing that you're NOT special, you ARE just a statistic, and understand you have as much chance of being in that 2% group as you do of being in the 98% group...and don't believe for one second that you are in that 98% until you KNOW you are. Because if you draw the short straw and are in that 2%, you will be devastated. Best to have a happier outcome than you planned on than the other way around.

Here's how long it's been:

• 17,452,800 seconds
• 290,880 minutes
• 4848 hours
• 202 days
• 28 weeks and 6 days
• 55.34% of a common year (365 days)

No wonder depression is a constant battle.