I love police fitness & do want that. It fits well in with….me.
However, I need to move home.
I’m still taking steps back from some things.
I don’t know what I want. Police fitness or something else. Dance again? I love that. A fractured c-spine took me out. I had no right arm for awhile… but I’m back. I’m fine so…
I never got a minute after my husband died. I never got a moment BEFORE he died LOL. While I fell in love with the idea of police fitness and I did, I was going through motions. And the feeling of jumping through hoops, never being good enough is ever present.
I took care of everyone after my husband died. Listened to their normal problems. Fed them. Waited on them. Walked miles to stores to buy them that food. Rarely was I wished a condolence except for my rapist who came over for coffee to give me a hug before my husband was in the ground. My blood everywhere….bashing my head into the ground.
I need to decide what I want. People here decided I was strong so two days after my husband died, I should mow their lawns. Push their trash to the curb. Feed them.
I went along with a plan to do what I’m doing…which was great in many ways. Got me physically very strong.
But I don’t know what my heart is in. And right now, I sort of don’t care.
The person who grew up in a gym….literally….I want to decide what to do with my talents. Shouldn’t I at least be allowed that? When is this my body, my life?
Why are people always pushing their dreams onto me? Who they think should be helped? Why isn’t it okay for me to be honest about this?
I helped people while my husband was dying. We got married before I left my country and moved here and two months later, we found out that he was dying. Our beginning was our end. And it was always, always about everyone else.
When do I get a moment?