From Dancing to Despair – Good for the Heart

Saturday night was quite a night!

My girls are turning 6 tomorrow and so since I cannot be there in person I decided to throw a party for them here in Nashville. Cake and all. It was a special night spent with good friends (most of whom have never met my girls) wanting to show their support for me.

And their support would be needed later in the night…

After the “BOGO Birthday Bash” several of us went out on the town. We hit up a popular club by the river and proceeded to dance the night away. All was going well until a certain song from my younger days came on called “Jump Around.” I try and do what I am told by the DJ so if a song says jump then I will say: “Is this high enough?”

Just kidding I don’t actually talk to the DJ. that would be ridiculous. But one thing is for sure, my lack of shame on the dance floor gets the best of me sometimes. Case and point Saturday night. As I am trying to out-jump everyone else on the dance floor, I landed awkwardly on someone’s foot.

POP!! goes the ankle.

Cue character defect #17: Pride/Ego

“I can downplay this no problem,” I thought as I grimaced with pain. I lasted a few more songs until my ankle literally stopped working. I was done. My friends helped me to the side and stayed with me the rest of the night and basically formed their own little dance party in our corner of the rooftop party. In between songs they would get more ice for me and make sure I was in good spirits.

After the club closed, we all went for late night pizza and I got several piggy back rides as I could not put any pressure on my gimp ankle. I’m sure we were quite a sight to see. My embarrassment subsided because I realized that I was not being a burden to them because they care about me. They did not even think twice about carrying me around downtown and just wanted me to have a fun night. After pizza, I Ubered back to my apartment and called it a night.

The next day was spent inside my apartment icing and resting my severely sprained ankle.

All day.

Its funny what happens to your heart when you stop, reflect and let things sink in. Life began to sink in more for me that day. Things that I had not fully processed, or really processed much at all actually…began to really weigh down more. Another birthday that I have missed. The reality that I will never have the opportunity to make it right with my ex-wife.

That ship has definitely sailed.

Grieving sucks big time and I am not very good at it. I honestly didn’t know how to do it properly my entire life. That is until now. Its like working out a muscle that has never been worked out. Incredibly painful but slowly becomes more and more natural the more you do it.

So as my throbbing ankle was being iced and elevated, my heart was healing with every tear that fell down my face. Saturday night was a great night but Sunday was just what the doctor ordered.

And both stories give evidence that I am able to do something I never thought possible. I am living a full and sane life. I am able to take life on life’s terms. I am able to listen to my heart and respond appropriately. I am able to accept the help of others and not either deny it or demand it like I did in my disease. I am able to take care of myself without medicating or isolating.

This weekend showed me that the gift of recovery is still alive and well.

Here’s to many more weekends like it (minus the injuries of course)…



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