Oh FUCK.

:: Disclaimer: This post is really more of a whiny rant rather than one of my oh-so-humorous efforts (yeah right). You're warned.::

*feeling sorry for myself -gimme some sympathy/empathy/luuurve.*
I've busted my bloody ankle AGAIN. Atm, I'm still considering whether I should make the effort to carry my sorry ass to the physiotherapist so he can do that wonderful UV machine thing and make bruises appear in 20 minutes. Obviously, I am a PRO at ankle injuries. I know everything and anything to do with my condition - I can even treat myself. Ok that's bragging, but there is a grain of truth in there -I do HAVE the experience. I know how to tape up my ankle myself (yeah the figure 8s, 6s, blah blah).

*In case you're thinking that I'm really quite the victim, I'd have to admit that this was really my own making.*
I had the foundation already for having walking issues. Apparently, my feet are pronatic - some kind of high arch thing about my foot soles, and my knees bend outwards, so basically my legs are just really shit, and without proper care (uh huh), eventually would have developed some kind of problems sooner or later.

See, I blew my ankle when I was uhh.. 14. That's about almost 8 years now. But I didn't realize that it was really serious till I started getting regular fall-downs. And then by the time I went to go see a decent physio, I'd already been informed that I'd torn or almost torn a ligament. But I was 16, young and free and hell determined to have my way. After all, I was only 16. I was supposed to be in the peak of health and so I never gave it a second thought but went on doing whatever I wanted, and therefore SCREW the bloody exercises.

Only.. now instead of 1 torn ligament, it's 2 DEFINITE torn ligaments and some serious balance issues. I can't wear heels, have to concentrate when I walk and I'm definitely sucker pissed at that. And the exercises. Oh god, the exercises. I hate 'em. Stretch that shit. Balance on one leg. I can't even fucking stand still without losing my balance and I'm really sorry now that I ignored the physio's well meaning advice. Even now, my current physio prolly thinks i'm some kind of sad case that only pops up when she's busted her ankle, which is fairly often. On average, I reckon I see him a couple of times every quarter. Maybe more often. He must be thinking I'm such an idiotbitch that can't be bothered to do her exercises.

**more whining**
Fuck, I have arthritis. And osteoporosis headed my way coming soon. I'm only 22 fucking years old, I cannot be this pathetic. But I have no idea what to do about this. I'd like to be able to wear heels, apart from the aesthetic reasons, it's got a heck lot more to do with the fact that (oh this pains me to admit) I'm under 5 foot. damn I can't believe I just said that.
I neeeeeeed to wear heels. hot people wear heels. Fucking ugly fat 40-year old spinsters wear flats. I.e.: me. but I'm not 40. I could really do without all this shite. Really, I've enough of it to deal with as it is.

**you're sick of me, aren't you.**
Should I go see the physio? Or does anybody have any kind of alternative medicine I can try? I've tried homeopathy, which is a crock of shite. And my physio won't let me go for an operation, which sucks. Bastard.
Oh and none of that sinseh crap - been there, done that, yeah? And I despise the type that has to fucking wrench your foot out of its socket because it's apparently misplaced. Fuck that shit.
:: Note: My swearing has increased tenfold because I'm so fed up of my stupid ankle. ::
And I can't bloody throw it away - damn that's some idea.

***finally.***
ok fine whatever, I GIVE UP. I hate my ankle, I'm never going to be rid of it, Can't bloody live with it, but it's the only left one I've got.
But I still cannot be buggered to do the exercises. *grin*