It used to be the way I breathed, the way I breathed wrong when I was talking, that hurt me. Talking all day while breathing wrong left me hoarse. At first it was just for a few hours in the evening, then it started to accumulate, the absence of my voice, until weekends came when I didn’t get better and started Monday unable to speak. The doctor told me I was breathing wrong and prescribed weekly visits to a specialist. I thought about taking singing lessons instead. I had time for neither and luckily the problem went away when I learned to do my job while actually continuing to breathe. Apparently I had not been breathing at all, my chest felt that tight.
Now it is my posture. I’ve been complimented on my posture, at times. In high school, I stood too upright when I skied to be any good at skating (it was perfect for classical). Or sometimes I’ll sit a certain way and someone will comment. But I have been leaning forward for years, I’m told, and my muscles tired of fighting gravity, and tightened and hardened in resignation at the job of holding me up.
I look down on people. I look down on my computer. I look down as I walk, especially as I walk down stairs. I fell badly once, and am slightly, residually afraid of stairs. I catch myself in this fear every once in a while, when I try to look up and find my eyes darting back towards the ground.
Also, I sit wrong. I sit with one leg tucked under me, usually the right one.
Now if I exercise or carry too much or just have a bad day, my right arm and right leg and right side of my neck will feel knotted and on fire, will keep me awake unable to find any position that feels comfortable. I have a doctor who tries to knead and shift and press it out of me, and that hurts, too.
I miss exercising. I don’t really know how to change how I sit or stand. I’m tired. All the time.