S2 E25: ink therapy
It’s the best kind of therapy. I currently don’t have any experience with physical therapy but everything I’ve heard about it is that it’s a necessary evil. Counseling or behavioral health therapy is an uncomfortable but ultimately beneficial practice. That said, ink therapy is the best. Like counseling it’s a little uncomfortable while you’re going through it but at the end you’re left with some sick ass tattoos. Bonus points if you’ve got a talkative artist, there’s some opportunity to vent out all your shit and get a 2 for 1 experience! Let’s be honest, your boy definitely needs some counseling in his life but for the present, the ink therapy experience last week was top notch. I’m returning to sleeving out my other arm, this time in black and white and including nerdy shit from all of the IPs I fanboy out for.
Other than that man last week was painfully boring. The torn ligaments kept me from lifting and rolling and i don’t really have anything to fill that time with besides LSAT studying, job hunting, and Assassins Creed Shadows. And all three of those are sedentary as hell and solo ventures, so it passes the time but keeps me a little reclusive. I’m also using the decreased mobility as an excuse to door dash and eat like trash…it’s just going to make the comeback even more impressive 😂
I’ll say though Sunday was absolutely a day for the ages. Started it by catching lunch with one of my bestest friends of all time and her son, shame we couldn’t invite James but homeboy was at a bachelor party. Sarah and I were commanders at the same time and basically trauma bonded through that job and the one before. Hadn’t seen them for about a year so catching up on life as so great it overshadowed the fact that i had to crutch through a packed restaurant to sit down. Parlayed that reunion into magic night with the boys and i couldn’t have asked for a better day. That’s how you know you’ve got some solid friends in your roster, when spending time with them outshines a busted ass injury. That fun, that happiness is stronger than any drug on the market.
I hate relying on people, love being the guy to help out but the reverse dynamic is so alien to me. In a perfect world I’d never need any help to get by and spend all of my time in service to others. We don’t live in a perfect world. We live in a world where my knee fucking exploded and I’m gonna have to get over myself because handling shit on my own will be impossible. MRI results came back…and my knee is fuuuuuuuuucked. Torn ACL, partial tears in MCL, LCL, and meniscus. And minor fractures in the knob things at the end of my bones. 🦴 (see those weird nodule/knuckle/knob things? Cracks in those) soooooooo we are gonna go under the knife this summer. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
Look, i feel like the last couple of entries (and next couple if I’m being honest) have been (are gonna be) negative in nature. It feels like I’m kinda being whiny, planning the pity party, and telling a story accompanied by the world’s smallest violin. I don’t mean to be, things are gonna work out! Everything will buff, life is full of peaks and valleys and I’m just in a valley. Life is gonna sort itself out like it always does, but the name of the game is patience and perseverance. For everyone else grinding out there, there’s strength in numbers. Never be too big to reach out for help and support because you are loved. Let people love you and ho-ly-shit will they come through. Let’s ride boys and girls.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5a8SwDX6DQM8RG6jZv9bFV?si=d_KwhpLcSeWoW2tTOOzbDA
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