I have not had my typical summer experience this year.  After hurting my back I couldn’t exercise for six weeks.  I couldn’t even sleep in a regular bed for almost two months.  I didn’t travel anywhere for the first month of summer because I’d get back pain even from driving.  I still haven’t been outside of my hometown much this summer.  I plan on spending a weekend in the middle of August at the family acreage so I can watch the late summer meteor showers.  That has become kind of a tradition for me for the last several years.  I really haven’t done much in terms of fun activities and socializing this summer.  And it was mainly due to hurting my back at the start of the season.

I finally built up enough stamina to get a good exercise in the park done.  I went on one of the hiking trails for awhile.  Hopefully I can get some good exercise in so I can build back my stamina by the time the weather cools off for autumn.  I am so far behind and I’m sure I gained weight during this six weeks of forced inactivity.

Had my twice monthly therapy session this morning.  It doesn’t really feel like stereotypical therapy as I’m not lying on a couch and confessing my darkest fears and thoughts to a Sigmund Freud look alike.  It kind of feels like I’m talking to an old friend as far as therapy goes.  I know it’s his job to listen and offer feedback as necessary so I know he’s not a traditional friend.  But I do consider him a rent a friend.  I haven’t been feeling really depressed or agitated for over two weeks.  I think it helps that I’m not drinking as much caffeine anymore and I have somewhat of a more healthy diet.  Forcing myself to get out of the apartment and get even twenty minutes of sunshine and a few minutes of walking isn’t hurting either.

Talked to my landlady this afternoon.  The request for my new carpet has been approved.  She also wants to repaint my walls and even replace my stove.  So I’ll probably have to vacate my apartment for a few days just to let them work without me being in the way.  Kind of tough to believe I’ve lived in the same apartment for ten years.  I lived in the same house for the first nineteen years of my life, but I changed bedrooms a couple times in that span.  I have lived in this apartment longer than anywhere besides my childhood house.  Barring any major holdups I’ll have new carpet, new wall paint, and a new stove by the end of the month.

I’m back to exercising again.  I’m back to feeling less depressed and aggravated.  I’m getting my apartment remodeled.  My insurance case from last year’s auto accident is all but settled.  I’m even losing my slight phobia of driving.  It’s as if a bunch of unresolved issues in my life are begin resolved all at once.  And it couldn’t have come at a better time.