A Painful Lesson

Here I am blogging again--Which should make it painfully clear to all that I am processing a lot right now. This is good. Because I have been ignoring a lot of things for a long time just hoping that they'll go away on their own. My recent physical struggles have caused me to come a realization about other parts of my life. And I'm only coming to terms with this as I've been shut down from being the physical superhuman I always acted like. My whole life, I've been an extremely emotional person, as all of you know ALL TOO WELL. And on the opposite side of my sub-human level of emotional control, I have always had great levels of physical control... I can't really ever recall shedding tears over physical pain. Between my family who always said that doctors were a waste, and my super-athlete teen years during which time I played soccer year round in addition to running track, I was kind of brought up with a "walk it off" mentality. And so every little ache and pain that I felt, I always ignored it. I had been raised to believe that it would pass. That it would go away on its own. Here's some news: It won't.
In the process of trying to get things taken care of I am coming to a realization about myself. In the office of our very own Aric G, he pointed out that I was laughing and thought it was strange. I dismissed it at first, thinking it was just because I'm not usually comfortable around people I don't know very well. But after a few visits, I've come to realize that it's usually when I'm describing where it hurts and how that I find myself giggling--and I realized something awful about myself. I'm ashamed of feeling physical pain. That probably sounds insane, but it is true. Every once in a while, I will casually mention having a headache or something of that nature, but I will also make it clear that I fully intend to keep doing whatever I'm doing regardless. I have always been the type where if I want to do something, I will push through and force myself to do it. I have to prove that I can--maybe it's so I don't look as physically weak as I am emotionally weak. But I have never decided that I wanted to do something then have my body absolutely refuse to do it. After my surgery, I wasn't ready to start running again yet, so I decided I would join the group to walk the half-marathon. I thought it would be a good way to ease myself into running after being inactive while recovering for a couple of months. But it didn't happen that way.
So here I am, after ignoring the same problem for ten years as it grew gradually worse, and I am at a point where I can't ignore it anymore. So now a simple problem like shin splints has grown into a massive problem. I know, I'm an idiot. It's stupid to ignore a problem for ten years as it gets worse and worse and worse, especially if you don't know what the problem is or what to do about it. I am now fully aware of the idiocy of the "walk it off" approach. Yes, it is such a small thing like shin splints that is causing all of this drama, only they have apparently turned monster because when I hit about the quarter mile mark, even walking about 3 miles per hour, my body refuses to go anymore. Let me correct that, it will go, but not more than like maybe ONE mile per hour. This is completely mental and I feel embarrassed and like somewhat of a sissy, but I have to say that when it gets to that quarter mile mark, it hurts more than anything I've ever felt before. More than getting hit in the nose with a soccer ball from ten feet away, a hundred times more than getting the tattoo on my shoulder, and even more than waking up from my surgery tightly bound and with stitches from armpit to armpit.
But the point of this post (which I have taken forever to get to) is that it has taken this painful physical lesson to make me realize that I have been doing the same thing emotionally and spiritually. I have been ignoring these small issues that pop up, or maybe not ignoring them but just bringing them up in conversation (or on my blog) and then pushing them aside again rather than taking them to the Healer. When my emotional issues come up in conversation with my mom, she chides me because "there are people who have it much worse". And sometimes I let that mentality take over me. I shove the problems aside and don't take them to God, I don't ask for prayer, because it's just too small to matter. But just like shin splints, if you take this thing that is too small to matter and you ignore it and ignore it and ignore it, rather than going away, it will become a big problem. It will grow and grow and grow until it slams down on top of you, stopping you in your tracks. So the moral of the story? There is no problem too small for God. There is no problem too small for prayer. I know it's obvious. I know it's not the first time I've had this realization, but maybe this time, because of the physical aspect of the lesson, maybe maybe maybe it will finally stick.