aHEAD IN THE GAME

The truth is out. I am indeed injured. Of course, it’s not your average sprained ankle or even your basic meniscus tear. No no no I’m in for a longggg recovery, at the very least 4-5 months. I have spent almost every day since my initial diagnoses searching, “recovery from posterior horn medial meniscus tear,” “athlete meniscus repair surgery” etc etc. I’ve sat on the very couch I’m on now searching the same key phrases over and over again. I don’t really know what I was expecting to find. I guess I just wanted to be able to compare my feelings physical and emotional to someone else who was going through the same thing. I just wanted to know that this injury is something you can come back from. While I’m still not sure about that last part, what I can do is offer my own play by play on my recovery.

So, that’s what I plan on doing here. A weekly/bi-weekly update on my rehabilitation, the physical and psychological toll of this injury. I can’t promise that this will be uplifting in any way. To be honest the way I’m feeling right now I can’t even promise a happy ending. This will be a blunt look into what it’s like for me being injured, how much that honestly sucks, and what few positives I scrounge up along the way. In the words of one of the world’s greatest heroes, “welcome to the [pity] party pal.”

!!!SCROLL TO SEE THE LATEST UPDATES!!!

This was the week of my surgery. I had never in my life been anesthetized or undergone any type of operation. Honestly, I was completely calm and ok until they wheeled me into the OR. Suddenly, everything was very real. I was really really trying to keep it together, but I was SCARED.  I feel like this was my true moment of acceptance. Like I finally realized I was injured and I was having the operation. BOOM. Just like that, I was awake. The pain wasn’t too bad fresh out of surgery and for the rest of the week. My biggest issue now is the swelling and trying to regain function in my quadricep. I started physical therapy on Friday, which made me feel a little more in control. I feel like now that I have exercises to do I’m actually an active participant in my recovery and not just someone that this is happening to. I think the worst part of this week is just figuring out how to do my daily activities. Things like taking showers, shaving my legs, getting dressed, cooking. Everything takes so much more energy and time than it used to. It is hard having to ask for help with every little thing but it’s harder knowing that I have no choice for almost two months.

I thought with each week it would get easier, like I’d be more used to my mobility issues, having to ask for help, and just my overall lack of independence. Yeh, I was kinda wrong. This is not to say it won’t get easier, because I know it will. It just isn’t getting better as fast as I thought. To be honest, I am surprised about the things I can and can’t do. I’m more surprised about the things that are pissing me off. So, I have a pretty long list of grievances for this week.

1. Fuck ass uber drivers.
   • For one, the fact that I can’t drive anywhere is ridiculously annoying. And no, I don’t have a car. It wouldn’t matter if I did. It’s my right leg that’s stuck in an immobilizer for 6 weeks, so even if I had a car I would be stuck asking for rides or Uber-ing. Speaking of Uber-ing. If you see a girl on crutches… at least offer to help. Like damn, here I am about to break myself in half with my right leg up on the seat while simultaneously trying to close the door. There’s the driver just fucking staring at me from the front seat. My other favorite thing is when someone does offer to help, and they’re like, “take my hand?” Bro, MOVE out of the way I need my crutches unless you’re gonna hold my hand everywhere I go. Like, I appreciate the effort, but FUCK you’re pissing me off.
2. It takes 5 years to walk anywhere.
   • I literally just wanted to go to Rossman (the polish version of Walgreens, CVS, etc). The walk is normally 4-5 minutes. With these crutches and this bum leg, it took me 30 minutes. THIRTY MINUTES. Not only that, but I’m pouring sweat in the dead of winter because 1 minute on crutches is the equivalent of at least three levels of the Man U, (that’s the literal conversion don’t @ me).
3. I LOST MY LEG AND MY HANDS.
   • After my literal TREK to Narnia to get to the store. I wanted to reward myself with coffee from a nearby café and a doughnut. SIKEE can’t do that because I can’t carry anything. Nope, if the place doesn’t offer anywhere to sit or like table side service, I literally cannot partake. So, I turned my little sweaty, frustrated, crippled self around and hobbled home… CAFFEINE-LESS. This problem plagues me at home as well. I literally cannot hold anything; even carrying like a plate of food from the kitchen is a whole production.
4. I’m useless.
   • Truthfully, this one is a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I can’t really stand for that long, so cooking, cleaning, running to the store, all that has to be done for me. It is kinda nice sometimes. I can finally live like the princess that I was born to be. HOWEVER, it’s only fun when you CHOOSE to live like that. When you don’t have a choice it’s less appealing. Having to rely on someone for basic stuff is quite possibly the most frustrating thing ever. Like yes, ok, I can cook and do those other things, but it’s so ridiculously hard and I have to take so many breaks. A chore that would take me 5 minutes now takes 15-20.
5. At home PT.
   • At home PT SUCKS. First of all, it’s BORING. Like I know I have to do it, and I do. But let me tell you, you can only do so many heel slides, so many ankle pumps and quad contractions before you want to die of boredom. Not only that, but I am severely humbled every time I do exercises. These simple movements are actually ridiculously hard especially when just one month ago I was doing them subconsciously. It’s been almost a month since I was able to properly contract my quad muscle and I’m starting to think I will never know how to again.
6. Constant Comparison
   • Sooo many times I have Googled my injury and rehab protocols because I don’t know if I’m doing enough. I have constant feelings that I should be doing more or I should be able to do more. I don’t even think that, given my time since surgery, my expectations for where I want to be are realistic. They’re still there in my brain though. I still strive for this unrealistic, unattainable goal. I think part of my problem is I am comparing an injured and recovering body to the fully abled body that I had a few weeks ago. Like imagine not even being able to compare yourself to yourself. It’s disillusioning. Of course, I have a timetable and certain goals that my doctors and physical therapist want me to hit. I’ve always been an above and beyond type of girl. If the goal was 5 I’d do 50. But now I can’t. I mean, I can ice, elevate, rest, do my exercises all I want. it doesn’t matter though, I can’t practice making my body heal faster. Nothing is going to make this go faster. I can do 300 quad contractions a day and that might help a little, but at the end of the day the body is going to heal on its own. It’s not the same as learning a new skill or perfecting an old one. This is different and I’m not handling that well.
7. The rollercoaster of emotions is frightening.
   • One day, I’m fine. Then the next day I feel absolutely awful for reasons I’ve already explained and some I don’t even know. I wanted to be positive through this whole endeavor. However, I am quickly learning to just accept whatever emotion I’m feeling that minute, or even that second, and accepting that. I can’t be positive all the time because it’s quite honestly a shitty situation and it’s ok to feel that way. For a while, I lived in denial about that. I was fighting myself to keep smiling when I really just wanted to break down because each day I feel like less and less of myself. I know eventually I’ll turn the corner and be on the up again but, for now, I’m just not there yet. Genuinely though, with the tug of war I constantly feel, up one minute down the next, I feel fucking crazy.

Ok, I guess my list of grievances for the week wasn’t as long as I thought. They just feel insurmountable right now. That’s ok. To be honest, life pretty much sucks right now. I know there are positives; like, I got my stitches out this week, I can bend my leg to 90 degrees etc etc, but this week was pretty shit. The next one probably will be too. That’s ok though. I am tired of getting angry at myself for being sad or being negative. It’s natural. So for now I’m still embracing the pity party.  

Welp, this is the first week that I went like over 4 days without crying! Sooo we’re definitely making progress. It was a boring week. I have no major complaints. I feel like I’m starting to fall into a routine with getting to physical therapy, my at home rehab, and just my daily life. Small things are starting to get easier. Taking showers, making food, getting in and out of cars. All the things that bothered me so much before, I’m figuring out how to do now.

But, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t complain. Despite the positives from this week, this has been one of the worst weeks in terms of knee swelling and pain which is probably because we started scar tissue massages and, at the end of the week, introduced some new exercises. Watch out world, Kim is flipping over on her stomach and doing leg raises. I can also sit down, and extend my leg so I basically have one step back on the field… Swelling could also be due to the four flights of spiral stairs I had to climb to attend a party where I also sat with my leg not elevated and without moving for like three hours. Was any of this a good idea? Nah. But, when you are stuck in the house pretty much all day every day, you jump at any opportunity to get out and talk to people. It’s like I’m in a maximum-security prison and this weekend I finally had yard time.  

Sooo, I’ve been gone for a bit. There’s a lot of updates to give, but I think overall this time has been one of transition. I’m shifting from really injured to semi- healthy and starting to get my life back. In these past few weeks, I’ve hit the one month and 6 week mark, two major milestones marked by a lot of “firsts.”

I was able to do leg raises for the first time, and not just one. I was actually able to do multiple in a row.  I also slept on something besides my back for the first time. There was also the first time I was able to fully extend my leg from the bent position, and the first time I slept without my brace. During week 6, I had one of my most important appointments. I was cleared to finally get rid of the brace and take my first steps with no crutches!! That’s right everyone, I’m walking again! It’s more of a limp-and-drag sometimes, but I’m affectionately nick naming it my “pimp walk.” All in all, this was a pretty exciting period as it marked the first time I felt like a functioning member of society in a long time.

Like I said, these past few weeks have been full of firsts, but it also marked a period of change. I finally transitioned from doing boring, baby rehab exercises to big girl movements like box squats and side lunges. In my brain, I’ve kinda transitioned from injured to truly recovering. Surprisingly, this shift is more difficult for me mentally than physically.

If you’ve read the previous entries you know I’ve been a little depressed since I haven’t been able to do so many of the things that make me happy. Of course, now, I’ve been happier. I’m feeling more like myself because I’m less dependent on others and I can do more without struggling. However, I also find myself a little more anxious. The period that I’m entering is less about protecting my repair and more about strengthening and range of motion. Yes, I’m still fragile, but this is a time where I can push it a little more. Like I mentioned, I’m starting to return to a familiar domain. I’m doing rehab that’s more of an actual workout, rather than just some band exercises. I can 100% recognize this progress; however, I also feel myself getting frustrated because my brain wants to push me farther and farther but my body isn’t there yet. I’m growing impatient with myself when I feel pain or discomfort with these types of exercises. It’s hard for me to consider what I’m doing “rehab” when it’s so similar to the workouts I could do easily just 6 weeks ago. Then, during these movements, I would try to add 5, 10 more pounds just to see if I could; I would really push my limits. Surely, now, I can have the same mindset, but my limits are far greater. Furthermore, I am constantly reminded of how much farther I have to go just to get back to normal. That’s not even including how much farther I have to go just to catch my teammates who haven’t been hindered by an injury during this time, or how much farther I have to go to surpass them because when has just “catching up” been the goal?

While thoughts like these can be motivating to an extent, sometimes it’s just disheartening. I find myself looking in the mirror, staring at my leg wishing it wouldn’t look so skinny. I literally stand there willing it to get stronger, more muscular, but it doesn’t. Every time I look down, I’m constantly reminded on one side of where I used to be and on the other of where I am now. It kind of feels like I haven’t fully accepted that I am on this journey. I cannot stop and go back to how things used to be.

Overall, these past few weeks have been great, I have shown a lot of progress I think mentally and physically. However, transitioning from truly injured, basically bedridden to recovering, walking around isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I am still wrought with anxiety about the future and a little bit of annoyance/impatience about the process that is still to come. 

I thought the positive vibes would be flowing this week. I thought wrong. Instead, I was inundated with anxiety and fear. I’m not completely surprised at this turn of events given it was my first time being around the team and staff since my surgery. So, I knew bad mood was a possibility. I expected certain feelings of frustration, irritation, nervousness, even, as I would be sitting out of pretty much every activity. Predicting feelings and experiencing them are different. I thought I was ready for the storm of my emotions, but I was woefully ill-prepared.

At the beginning of the week, I made my way back to the small town where my club is located. I was there for the girls as they did their motor testing and for the first training. It was strange; I sat there doing my rehab while they all completed their trials. I talked to a few of them, waved, answered the same questions: “how are you,” “how is your knee,” “when can you run” blah blah blah. It is very important to me that I remain connected with the team throughout my injury, which is why being there on the first day was my priority. However, I can promise you, despite being present, I have never felt more removed. I mean, before I had surgery I wasn’t fully participating for a while. It’s not like I’m not used to sitting on the sidelines. But this was different. I didn’t even feel a part of the team. I felt like I was literally just any old fan. Maybe it was the fact that I was still half on my crutches and could barely walk, but it was a harsh reminder of how much farther I must go. I know I had similar sentiments last week. Being there, literally watching the girls play and everything, and knowing I can barely walk 1km unassisted, it just made this whole process feel impossible.

I’ve been really trying to stay positive, and not think about the journey as a whole right now. I try to break it down step by step. I’m just trying to do the next best thing I can do for myself, and then the next thing after that. It makes this whole process feel more doable. But when I looked on the field and watched the girls, the reality of my situation hit again. Now, let’s be honest. No one was out there setting the world on fire. It was the first practice back from break. There were a lot of errant passes, bad touches, miscommunication, all that. But more than anything, everyone was just playing free. They were having fun, trying to hit worldies, taking people on 1v1. I miss that. I miss the freedom to mess up. Right now, Everything for me feels so serious, heavy. I feel like my situation is so fragile. Like there’s always one right thing to do and if I don’t do it, I’ll be back to square one. I’m always so afraid that I’m going to do something to fuck my knee up again or that I’m not doing well enough in the process and prolonging my return. There’s that overthinking again. That’s what plagued me for most of the week. The fact that there’s still so much to be done, but also thoughts I’m not doing enough to get there fast enough. I don’t even know if that makes sense.

This week was a little rough. I think because it was my first full week walking again. My knee has been more tired. My muscles have been more sore. I’m asking them to do things they haven’t done in a while…work. It’s just crazy to think that in just a few more weeks I could be jogging and then running, then sprinting, then I’m back. Honestly, it is crazy to think. So crazy, I barely let myself go there because I’m so afraid it’ll never happen.

I thought this week would be more positive. I mean, I’m finally walking consistently without crutches and everything. But I was full of more anxiety and fear than I anticipated. I guess in the future I have to stop trying to predict how I’m going to feel. In this whole injury process I am constantly surprised at my emotions. Even when I’m excited and happy with my progress, I’m afraid and worried still about what’s left to come. It can be exhausting but the only thing I can do is endure it, and try to just do the next best thing I can do.

Well, big jump. A lot has changed, a lot has progressed. I feel like up to now I’ve been a little depressing. So, in a little turn of events let’s talk about the things I’m actually able to do now as opposed to what I cannot.

CHECKLIST

• Walking (with minimal pimp walk)
• Single leg landings
• Jumping
• Pogo hops
• Squatting
• Deadlifting
• Jogging : o
• Walking Up and Down Stairs

I’m probably missing a few things but yes these are what I can accomplish now. It seems like each week I’m making HUGE progress. We’re coming up to right around 12 weeks which is what I could technically consider like halfway through my recovery. Realistically I probably won’t be fully recovered until more like 9-12 months. But in terms of being able to think about playing again it’s like halfway. So yeh a lot is changing and admittedly it’s scary. For me, I think of my limitations before anything; I’m just a pessimist that way I guess. I’m always framing things in terms of what I can’t do yet. However, the past three weeks, especially, it’s been hard to think that way. It seems something is always changing drastically. Like just basically 3ish weeks ago I couldn’t walk at all and pretty much like 2 weeks ago I was still sort of using crutches. But 3 days ago I ran for the first time. It’s hard to think in terms of limits when each week I cross a new one. Before, I made a big deal about shifting from counting days since the injury to days “til” I can play again. Is this when I make that mental switch?

I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t talk about the negatives to such rapid progression. Then again, I don’t really consider this a negative more like a learning curve, but it’s the fear. I’m constantly afraid that I’m doing too much or that it’s happening too fast. I think it’s probably a byproduct of the whole “thinking in limits” thing. I know it’s a natural worry. I care sooo much about playing again that I just don’t want to do anything to mess it up. I’m lucky right now to have a good physio who I think is understanding how my brain works. He doesn’t always tell me when we’re going to do something scary. Like I didn’t know I was going to start jumping and I especially wasn’t really prepared for running. He just ended one of my lifts a set early, said to follow him, and boom I’m up on the treadmill. He didn’t even tell me how long or really how fast. I just looked down and I was running. Albeit VERY unathletically, but still. I think it’s a good thing, I mean if I’m not expecting it I don’t have time to think about it at all. I can’t freak out or really have any expectations of when it might hurt or when I should stop. I think my goal for the next half of my recovery will be along those same lines. Just trying to stop guessing when I should be doing something, when something will hurt, and just doing it with no expectations and dealing with how I feel after. I mean, I’ve been super surprised with my progress thus far. Even though its scary and feels too fast, I think I just have to start embracing it and thinking less like I can’t and more like just try.

Well. It’s been a really long time since an update. I don’t really have a good excuse for the break, but I’ve hit a lot of milestones which has brought up a lot more unexpected emotions (surprise, surprise). I have been cleared to return to soccer activities. This past week has been marked by my return to my club and the first time I’ve touched a ball in like 4 months. I built up the doctor’s appointment to be cleared so much in my head. I mean how could I not. For like 16 weeks everyone was asking me when I could touch the ball again, when I would be able to return to the club. Once I got the green light for it, I didn’t feel the relief that I had expected. I mean yeah there was excitement there, but, just like every major milestone I’ve hit in this recovery, there was a SHIT ton of fear. I feel like I’m waiting for every major marker to be THE moment. The one where I’m truly just excited. Not excited clouded with anxiety, fear, or stress. It seems with every step forward it opens up a thousand more fears that I didn’t or couldn’t have before. I can’t wait for the day where good news is just good, and I’m offered just a little bit more relief. To be honest, I’m not sure if that day is on the horizon or if it exists at all.

Surprisingly, despite all the change, I don’t have a lot to write right now. On one hand, I have been a bit overwhelmed and lacking a lot of motivation to keep up this blog. On the other hand, a lot of what I’m dealing with is anxiety surrounding my return, an intense fear of getting hurt again, worries that I will never be the same player, and heartbreak as I sit and watch the girls play every week. I wish I could elaborate more but truthfully I barely have the thoughts to explain my emotions, let alone the words. What I do know, is that I just have to take everything day by day. Setbacks are normal and inevitable. However, I think I’m overly aware of the fact that the further into this recovery I am, the more I have to lose.

Well. This was a weird couple of weeks mentally. I think it would be easier to recall the last 14 days if I group my experiences by emotion. During the past few weeks, I’ve been happy, pissed the fuck off, jealous, scared/anxious, and fearfully optimistic.

Happy

These past two weeks have marked, probably, the biggest leaps I’ve made in my recovery. Obviously, I’m back with the team. But also, this most recent week, I started participating in team warm up and passing drills. However, the biggest news of all came on the last day of week 18; I was involved in the possession drill with the team. Of course, I was just a non-contact bumper player, but actually seeing my name on the practice plan, getting to wear a pinnie, and actually PARTICIPATE in a drill was huge for me. I felt involved in a way I haven’t been in so long. I was communicating, calling for the ball, moving players. I was actually making an impact. I didn’t realize how much I missed just being able to influence my teammates. Like, I could communicate with them, make it easier for them. I could motivate them. I could pass to them. I was a part of something again. It filled a hole in me that had been empty for so long, I forgot what it felt like. I fell in love with soccer again that day, I think. Mind you it was a FLEETING feeling, but it happened for the first time in 5 months. ALSO, I got to shoot the ball this week, it was only during a game of crossbar. However, it did mark the first time the ball has come off my foot in the air, on purpose, (but no, I didn’t hit the crossbar this time.)

PISSED THE FUCK OFF

Now, this one can’t be too much of a surprise. I’ve spent a majority of this injury being ridiculously angry. However, these weeks especially, have been hard. I can’t stop thinking about how this injury was absolutely pointless. The whole recovery process has been taxing. The constant thinking about my knee, what I can do to be better it’s just tiring. This week marked a shift though, I am just over being sad and mourning who I was before I got hurt. I don’t know what else to say other than, I am just pissed off. Like everyday I wake up and I’m STILL doing this shit. Everyday I compare who I was before I got hurt to what I’m doing now, and I’m annoyed. I know I just wrote a paragraph about my successes and the happiness I experienced the past two weeks. But, I can’t lie. It’s difficult to stay in those moments of happiness for too long. Like yeahhh I participated in practice. Six months ago I was playing 90 minutes. Yeaaaah I can sprint up to 75%, 6 months ago I was hawking girls down to get the ball. Yeahhh I can shoot a little, 6 months ago I could ping a ball across the field. It’s difficult to remember everything you used to be able to do, and still be excited for the small steps you’re taking now.

JEALOUS

OHHH MY DAYS this has been the most prevalent feeling I’ve had these past two weeks. Since my injury, I’ve always felt jealous of the girls on the team. However, now that I am really taking in how much I’ve progressed these past few months I’m confronted with a hard truth. These girls didn’t have to relearn how to walk, run, dribble, pass or shoot. This whole time they got to hone in on what will make them a better player. I’m just trying to learn how to be A player again. It’s frustrating every single day when I get to the club and go to training that these girls are literally running rings around me. I know it’s not forever, but it’s right now. And it’s in my face every fuckin day. I hear them complain about training, lift blah blah. And they have every right to complain, shit I would too; it’s just frustrating because I wish we had the same complaints. I want to be the one whining about running during training or questioning if we’re lifting too heavy in season. Instead, I’m complaining because my adductors don’t remember what it feels like to pass a ball for like 90 minutes and my knee is stiff as shit every time I wanna run. I just wish to compete with the rest of the team, and it hurts that I’m not there yet.

SCARED & ANXIOUS

There have been so many new things lately. So many firsts. I absolutely love that. However, it’s so scary because with each first is a mental hurdle. Each first is met with an, “oh fuck idk if I can do this moment.” Like trying to hit the crossbar was insane. I haven’t done that in so long. But, the whole time I was so worried that I was going to literally break my leg in half. Now that I’m so much further in my recovery, I am so scared of going back to square one. I am just so afraid that I am going to do too much, but I’m also worried that I’m progressing too slowly or that there is always more I could be doing. Even scarier, every time I watch the girls play I can’t believe that one day, sooner rather than later. I will be doing the same things. I watch them block shots, make crazy tackles, stick their legs out for insane shots. I just cannot imagine ever doing something like that again. I’m stuck thinking I’m still that girl in the leg brace, unable to walk, or even bear weight on her knee. I’m still thinking and so worried about being so fragile again.

FEARFULLY OPTIMISTIC

Even with my doubts, anger, and worry. I cannot deny the fact that I am closer to playing again than I am my operation. I have worked incredibly hard to get to this point. For months, I have done therapy multiple times a day, for hours on end. I have worked tirelessly to increase my strength and range of motion not just to get back to healthy, but to be better than I was before. I am seeing that pay off with the speed of my return and the overall lack of imbalance between my legs. I am back on the field, passing the ball, shooting, and sprinting. I am just a few weeks away from completing a full practice. Amongst all the negative emotions, I have to acknowledge the fact that I am almost back. It’s scary as I get closer because I won’t be able to use the excuse “oh its just because of my knee,” or anything like that. However, I’m nervous that I won’t be able to stop using that excuse. I know that I will come back soon, but there’s so much unknown. How long will it take to get back to baseline for me, or will I ever get back to that? I’m excited to get back to playing again. I’m just nervous to see what kind of player I will be when I get there.

I’m cleared. Kinda crazy to type it and it was even crazier to live it. On week 20, I went in for my doctor’s appointment. I knew from talking with my physio from Warsaw and our team physio that it would most likely be my last appointment before I was cleared to play again. However, I guess that really hadn’t sunk in for me. It was my typical doctor’s appointment. He asked if I had any pain; I answered the same as always, “not really, just some soreness around my scar.” He examined my knee, bent it all different ways. It was the same as always. It was uncomfortable because he was yanking me in different directions, but not painful at all. He had me jump on one leg for him, no pain. There wasn’t a major difference between my two legs. He told me based on what my team physio had told him, my own words, and his examination, I was cleared to do everything. I could start working at higher intensities, cutting, changing directions, etc. He told me the speed that I could make a full return and play again was up to my body and how it handled everything. Great. At the time, I didn’t really think that changed anything. I had my lifting plan that went for the next few weeks already. There was a plan to return to sprinting at 100%. I thought this doctor’s appointment was merely a formality. I didn’t expect any sudden, big changes to my plan.

Well. I was wrong. Once the club got word I was cleared to return. They RAN with it. I was told that I would start full training literally two days later….. HUH? I was stressed. I hadn’t really shot the ball up to this point, done any kind of 1v1, or really sprinted at my max. In my opinion, I wasn’t ready to return. This is exactly what happened the last time I tried to come back, and I tore it. I was not risking that again. I immediately called a meeting with one of the coaches. I voiced my concerns. They were heard, written down, and to my absolute surprise, they were listened to. This week, week 21, I was involved in 90% of training. However, some things I was excluded from or eased into. For example, when the team was doing like a 4×4 transition game, I worked on 1v1s, shooting with power, and changing directions. Literally everything that I said I wanted train before fully joining the team. I was supposed to continue this for the rest of training while they played 11v11, but one girl went down and I had to step in, mind you it was only for 5 minutes, but to my surprise I was able to do it.

One thing I’ve had to learn in this whole return to play process is, this isn’t college soccer. Your ATs aren’t the same support system and safety net professionally like they are in college. You have to advocate for yourself. To be honest, it was scary for me to voice my fears and worries. I’ve never been the type of player to say I can’t do something. However, this isn’t a little rolled ankle I’m pushing through. Further, if I don’t advocate for myself at this level, who will? I was concerned there would be push back, I could be viewed as weak or something like that. However, I don’t think that was the case. I think I was respected. Truthfully, taking this week or so to ease back in I was an excellent decision for both my mental and physical health. It also didn’t really effect the club’s timeline of my return at all.

My return to practice obviously comes with so many positive emotions. Happiness, relief etc. There are still some negatives which is to be expected like worry, fear. However something I wasn’t expecting was the embarrassment. It’s really humbling to be on a team full of such talented players showing all sorts of impressive skill while I am still trying to remember how to play again. We’re in shooting drills, girls are blasting it upper 90, while I am trying to remind my body what the sensation of a proper strike even feels like. I am fully aware I am the only person judging myself, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I know the girls don’t tackle me at 100% and give me maybe a few extra seconds to get the ball off, I need that right now, but it does feel a bit awkward as well. I want to be the same as them; however, I literally cannot. My brain knows the level I should be playing at, but my body needs time to adjust.

Midst the negatives I do have to applaud myself for the speed at which I seem to be catching on and recalling how to do certain thing; however, it’ll never be fast enough for me. Right now, I just have to remind myself to be safe, to be patient, and to be kind to myself. I must learn how to balance pushing myself with being responsible. I’m learning to listen to my body while trying to not be corrupted by the fear, worry, and stress from my mind. But right now I just want to live in this moment, I was cleared. I can play again. I need to take time to just revel in that.

Sorry, I had to take a little break. Everything recently has been just so overwhelming and “big.” The past month or so has really been a lot. I know I’ve said it before many many many times: injuries are so much more than physical, they are so much more than mental. It is really an all consuming plight. My life has been flipped upside down, right side up, sideways, and then thrown for a loop over the past 5-6 months, but especially this past month. I’ve had to juggle so many unknowns, “what ifs,” and disappointments. I’m genuinely exhausted and burnt out.

After my last entry, I was excited to start being more positive, less cynical, and less doom and gloom. Yes, for my readers benefit, but also, I genuinely thought I was moving past those days. In my defense, I started off really strong at the beginning of this month. I was back at full trainings. The staff presented their plan for me to be able to play like 10 minutes against one of the weaker teams in the league at the beginning of May. That was truly so exciting. Just the thought that this season wouldn’t have been a complete waste for me gave me so much hope. Realistically, I had only been training for less than two weeks, so I knew playing was a long shot. However, getting to travel with the team again, was more meaningful than I thought it would be. Sadly, I never actually got to get in the game. I mean if one person has to sit out, it makes sense that it would be me. Everyone else had been busting their ass in training to earn their minutes to play, and here I come, swooping in to take their time? That would be fucked. I can’t lie, being the only field player left on the bench. The only one not in uniform, who had no impact on the game whatsoever. Yeah, that really really was a gut punch. As we went to go shake the hands of the fans who came I didn’t want to at all. I just felt so removed and just self-conscious. I’ve been feeling a lot of that lately, shame, discomfort. It’s hard when you’re trying to prove you’re a good enough player not only to yourself, but to everyone else.

The thing that’s really been emphasized to me is the impact of injury on every part of my life. Not only is soccer my passion, it is my livelihood. As I am unable to play, I am unable to progress in my career. This whole year and my development was effectively put on pause. What didn’t pause was my contract. When I signed to my current team, I agreed to be here for one year. There was an expectation that I would be an impact player, and that was an expectation that I did not live up to. Now that it’s the end of the season, the contract negotiations are here. I was scared that I would be left behind. I mean my club doesn’t technically owe me anything. They easily could’ve wiped their hands of me and moved on. That’s something that I am overly aware of every single day. It adds a level of stress that rivals pre-surgery. There’s not only the stress of getting a contract, but there’s also the pressure of knowing that my spot is up for grabs next season. I have to come back 150% to be back in the starting lineup. However, this pressure is also coupled with the fear of re-injuring, and the worry of never being good enough again. Further, there’s a language barrier. I can’t have the same relationship with the staff that the other girls have. This puts me at a disadvantage. I am not able to have conversations with them about expectations for me and whether or not I am living up to them. This allows my brain to wander, which as we know is not good for me. It always goes to a negative place and brings up a lot of anxiety.

These past few weeks have just felt so heavy. The pressure of trying to secure my future, but also being afraid that my future is fading fast is honestly scary. I am in a rush to return to the player that I once was while juggling the fear it may never happen, or that no one will wait for me to get there. This weight on my shoulders every single day honestly hurts. I’m working on giving myself grace, and maintaining my patience. However, as we know, this is easier said than done.