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I’m bored.  Seriously bored.

Because of the foot surgery I just had, I’m on crutches.  That being the case I really can’t do a whole lot.  I can’t even bring my own food to the table myself.  Or do the laundry as I would have to use the steps.

My last entry talked about the difference between perceptions of physical illness and mental illness.  I’m really feeling that difference now.  I live with my husband and mother-in-law, and neither of them want to let me do anything.  Which of course, makes me want to do everything.  But, as long as I’m on crutches, I can’t carry anything of substance or use the steps, so I’m pretty much just hanging out.  Reading books, surfing Facebook, watching TV.

And I get it.  I’m bored, but I get that I can’t really do much.  But as soon as the doctor takes away these crutches I will again become a harsh critic of my ability to accomplish anything.  If I take a break, my brain will tell me it’s because I’m lazy.  I often feel that maybe I’m just doing an amazing job at hiding an extreme case of laziness behind the mask of mental illness.  Right now I feel clear headed, and not terribly stressed out, but maybe that is because my to do list consists of watching the back episodes of Mr. Robot.  What happens when my to do list consists of laundry and dinner and cleaning.  Do I become immediately stressed again?

Will I try to hide my panic from even myself?

Hopefully not.