Teach Me How to Derby

The past few months, but especially the last two, I have been reinventing what it means to be Christine. For several years since my bipolar diagnosis, I’ve let my mental illness be that thing. Why didn’t you come to my party? Cause I’m bipolar.

This year marked the first time I claimed a New Year’s Resolution: To stop making excuses, make friends, and be nice. For someone like me, these things are harder than losing weight or giving up alcohol. And last year, I could do nothing but complain about how no one liked me or wanted to be my friend like a spoiled rich kid who pays people to hang out with him (sorry John DuPont). This year, I would be better and be someone who I don’t hate on a regular basis. But really honestly, stop using my mental health issues as a crutch.

Within two months, I’ve gone to two concerts, did the 5K at Disney in January, and joined a roller derby league which I am absolutely excited about. Sure, I hurt and wish that I wasn’t such a weakling in comparison to these girls who have rock hard quads and nice butts. But now when people say “Roller derby? Isn’t that like really dangerous?” I say, “Yeah, it’s pretty much the most awesome thing you could ever do.”

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Under my pinky…small but painful!

I may not be able to stay upright all the time, I may have bruised my palm from falling in only the 2nd day of practice (who bruises their palm?), and I may look nothing like the veterans that skate around on banked tracks and slick floors like they’ve been doing this since birth…but, I became my own hero the day I showed up to practice and put every ounce of effort I had into doing this.

A few days ago, depression was trying to push its way back into the forefront of my brain. It makes you yell at your wonderful and supportive husband and tells you that you have no business even trying anything new cause you’re just mediocre. So I put on my skates and gear, and let derby hip check those thoughts right out.

 

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