personal blog #1

Maybe this is me trying again.

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything about myself like a personal blog, maybe. I think I’ve been trying too hard to figure out a lot of things lately. I’ve started doing old things again. Recovering from my knee injury is a hell of a task, and it constantly reminds me how lonely rehab can feel. I’m trying to build better reading habits, fix my attention span, and put my thoughts into words.

I’ve been meeting new people. A few weeks back, I saw someone with a very pretty smile. I haven’t spoken to her yet, but yeah, that’s one thing that feels like a small, good moment after a terrible series of events. It’s been a long time since I’ve written like this, and it surprises me how I go from one thought to another without giving any context. But I just want to keep it raw so it makes sense to me, at least.

I’m also very tired of the internet, movies, and everything that passes as entertainment. I’ve started finding joy in dance again. Three to four hours of training feels like meditation to me. I thought I would leave dance because that’s what everyone does, right? After a certain age, you give up on your creativity. But lately, I’ve had a strange realization. Two years ago, I thought I was making calculated, smart decisions. Now I realize many of them were dumb. I thought letting my creative side go would be a sane idea, but now I see that it’s the only thing giving me happiness. It’s strange I thought I could control things around me, only to realize I’m a slave to my own art.

Coming back to my knee injury I’ve been dealing with terrible pain in both knees for months now. I’m trying to fix things as best as I can because I want to reach my full potential. I’m hoping I’ll recover in three to four months. But in this process, I’ve realized how difficult and lonely it is. I’ve faced and overcome many problems in life, but I’ve never felt this alone. Sometimes I just want to talk to someone and say how hard I’m trying to fix all this but it feels heavy, and it feels like nobody really cares.

It’s a strange thing. Recovery takes time, and you have to repeat the same exercises every day with no clear end in sight. It’s exhausting. You see yourself as both the warrior and the wounded. And in this mental state, you just want someone around who understands what you’re going through. Still, I try to get up and do it all over again the next day. I’ve built enough resilience in my life to know that I’ll get through this.