So I was just looking down at my left leg and was reminded of my complete lack of physical coordination. On my left knee is the brutal scar from when I was 14 and tripped and fell onto a dirt road whilst racing my younger sister (trying, but failing, to prove to her that I was still faster than her), removing all the skin off my knee and creating several deep cuts. Just below, are two big bruises which I managed to obtain over the weekend – and which I can only assume are the result of something I did whilst being perhaps slightly intoxicated, since I have no idea what caused them [that, or someone came into my room while I was sleeping and punched my shins – which also seems like a likely scenario].
In fact, if you then move to the other side of my body, and I took my pants off, you would see the remnants of a massive bruise I’ve had on my right arse cheek after falling down 12 wet wooden steps a few weeks ago [which, I note, when I took a photo of it 2 days post said incident, looked exactly like a massive piece of steak which you would have expected to see a side a veggies next too – just FYI]. That bruise is probably the best bruise I have and will ever obtain [thanks].
We should probably all take a moment to reflect on the glory of that bruise [just use your imagination when you’re doing your said reflection]…
Moment taken. Just to note, it was so impressive that I pulled down my pants twice at work to show my work colleagues, just because I didn’t think it was fair if I kept it all to myself [feel free to take another moment, if that context will assist with your imagination].
Then, if you move back to the other side of my body, and head south to my toes, you would see a swollen toe and flap of skin from when I got my foot stuck under the bus door when I was trying to step off said bus – because you know, that happens to everybody right? I also want to point out at this point that my sister, McCool, who was on the bus with me, instead of helping to pull my foot out, fell out of the bus in a fit of laughter, which also prevented other people on the bus from helping me, as they assumed that surely the situation wasn’t serious if my only friend was laughing about it – that’s love. She was literally on the ground rolling in laughter.
The scenic tour around my body doesn’t end there.
Head back up north, right to the top of my head and there is still a tiny lump from where a massive ceramic vase fell onto my head immediately after I placed it on top of my bookcase, and it literally smashed into pieces on my head, instantly creating a growth on the top of my head which resembled half an egg – which although it did hurt quite a lot, and I’m pretty sure my intelligence level hasn’t been the same since, I did have A LOT of fun getting people to feel the lump and encourage them to comment on how gnarly it was (although it wasn’t as exciting as pulling down my pants for people to show off my gnarly bum bruise).
Although I haven’t really broken that much (just my nose four times), or caused long term damage (apart from ripping the tendons in my wrist and also ignoring any brain damage my accidents may have caused), my whole life I have walked into walls I thought were further away, lost my balance and fallen, not properly stepped over obstacles and tripped or left my fingers in things I’m trying to close. I’ve also knocked over a lot of things, walked into a lot of people and generally done a lot of stupid shit resulting in bodily harm. To an outsider, it would most definitely not appear as though I have had 26 years of practice with this body.
I started to wonder why I am inflicted so [although not sure if it’s such an infliction if I get so much enjoyment showing off my bumps and bruises – but not the point]. Anyway, I have stumbled upon the answer!
I thought the answer was going to have something to do with my complete lack of mindfulness (as it applies to my body and the space my body takes up), or perhaps my depth perception inabilities – I thought wrong.
According to Freud, there is no such thing as an accident. He proposed a model of unconscious intention to self-injury or self-destruction.
“Anyone who believes in the occurrence of half-intentional self-injury… will be prepared also to assume that in addition to consciously intentional suicide there is such a thing as half-intentional self-destruction (self-destruction with an unconscious intention).”
Unconsciously, us clumsy folk are trying to punish ourselves, revealing particular areas of our bodies that unconsciously we wish to be destroyed. So my problem, it appears, is that my unconscious believes that my body, all areas of it, is the enemy which must be destroyed.
So if you, like me, often walk into things, trip over nothing, fall up steps, accidently bite your own elbow and get your foot stuck under doors, don’t be alarmed… you just hate your body unconsciously, or at least your unconscious mind is so afraid of it, that it believes your body must be destroyed, perhaps to avoid your body otherwise destroying your unconscious mind WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT!! [That seemed like a legitimate unconscious fear].
If you’re not willing to live with that explanation or accept it, then don’t worry, I did google how to cure clumsiness. According to Wikihow you just need to practice a sport alone (because if you do group sports, you will get too anxious about how shit you are that you will just become more clumsy). It is recommended that you do 2 weeks of racquetball practice which is noted to cause noticeable improvement. Cool.
I’m pessimistic though – I’m not sure how 2 weeks of racquetball can cure a lifetime of repeated unconscious desires to self-destroy. Let me know how you go…