I'm back to physio. I had the most painful, most excruciating session yet a few days ago. My body is still reeling. While my strength has increased dramatically, my stamina is still in need of improvement. So, it's back to the floor for me, doing daily exercises to build the endurance I so sorely desire.
The muscle that I'm doing the most work with right now is called the psoas muscle. It's the muscle that flexes the hip and so is the most important muscle involved in walking and movement. Needless to say, mine is fucked up. The physio suspects it's from car accidents, falls and trauma over the years. It sure feels pretty battered up. I feel pretty battered up.
I slept most of the day after the session. My body felt bruised, abused and severely raw. Today I feel lightening bolt pains streak up and down my body. But I also feel lightening flashes of memory streak across my soul. Things I haven't thought about for a long time. People from my past. Strange perceptions of days gone by seem to be welling up in my consciousness. And I wonder if my body holds the memories of the past and as the muscles are worked and released, whether those memories float to the surface.
All I know at this moment is that I feel invaded. I feel as if my skin has been robbed of me and I have been beaten and left for dead. And yes, I've felt this way before. Far too many times.