Okay – admitting it – feeling sorry for myself. It’s going on a week that I got hit by a car. It’s going on a week that I miss going into the office and work. It’s going on a week that my so-called love went MIA. I thought he was the one. I truly thought I was lucky enough to get a second chance at finding true love. But when I needed him the most, he let me down. He choose the cowardly way out – avoidance and lying. I may be down and out, but I know I deserve better than that. So I continue on my struggle alone. Who cares if I am broke, who cares if I can’t comb my own hair, who cares if I can’t walk my own dog…the only thing that keeps me going is my faith that God has spared me once again. There must be a reason. I have hope that things will once again be okay…in the long run. But right this minute, I am giving into my pain, my helplessness…for now, I scream, I fight, I curse, I cry, I feel sorry for myself…
I am finally getting over the shock of getting hit by a car. I know I should have paid more attention in physics class. But I am sure my accident proved something scientific, no?? A smaller, lighter object will generally yield to the heavier, faster-moving object. But not necessarily without some resistance…hence my aching body, broken bones, bruised ego.
I was the pedestrian in a car-pedestrian tussle. I don’t even think I did any damage to the car – *sigh* – all in all, I have to say that the car got the better of me. I will be on the mend for at least three months according to my doctors.
I was only two blocks away from being home…only two blocks from being able to walk my own dog….only two blocks away from feeling safe.
I haven’t really been outside all week. I used to love walking everywhere. Now I am afraid of being squeamish about crossing streets – hoping that as my bruises heal so will my fear dissipate. I sit here all alone and think if there is anything I can do to change what happened to me? But the answer is always the same…No way. And so it goes.
I recall one minute laying sprawled on the ground, and the next getting up, trying to shake off the cobwebs of disorientation and saying aloud, “I want to go home”. I had people all around me….strangers shouting different advice.
A young girl crying dialed 911 and the driver called the police. Pain started getting worse, my head hurt. I felt more disoriented, more disembodied. I was extremely lucky they said, not to suffer any head trauma. At first I managed to laugh about it and cover up my emotions. Then the shock kicked in during my treatment in hospital. After waiting an eternity at the hospital, laughing instead of crying, trying to make those around me feel okay, I just wanted to be alone, to cry. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful things weren’t worse but I am still feeling this overwhelming anxiety, nightmares of the accident and the new challenges of daily life due to the recovery time. And now on top of all this, I am dealing with a broken heart as well. I understand that I am lucky there too. I am happy that I know now how much of a coward he is and how much better off I am without him, before any more time invested. But I have to face so much by myself, and now having to explain to family and friends what happened, and why he isn’t here is just too much for me right now. I want to close my eyes and just pretend things are better.
I feel like I am the one left behind being punished and with the difficulties of trying to move forward, while everyone just gets to move on with their lives uninterrupted.
I truly wish there was one person in my life who could understand this incredible numb feeling I have as well as understand the nightmares, the sickness I get when I’m in a car as well as on a pavement. There is no shortage of people saying the right things like “feel better”, things will get better”…but seriously, I know they don’t fully understand the depth of my pain…emotionally or physically. I have a long way to go…paying off medical bills, trips to the doctors, trying to keep my job, keeping slimy ambulance chasing lawyers at bay, holding onto dignity, grasping at hope, fighting off depression, trying to forgive…My optimism has diminished. Even though I’m lucky, trying to put on this brave front, and smile on my face – more than not, I can’t do it anymore.
I sincerely thank God that I am alive because I could have been dead. Life could be worse I understand all of this. Sometimes I just wish I could pass out for good from all the excruciating pain. But I am stronger than that. I can’t lie – this experience is dredging up a lot of past painful memories for me. Memories I had thought I had successfully put behind me.
I’m in pain every day, but refuse to take enough meds to control it because they sedate me too much and I have other added complications of dealing with my blood count. I try to be grateful that I’m alive, but I’m constantly reminded of all the things I can’t do. Today is usually the day I give my dog his bath, but I couldn’t even pick him up and place him in the tub. I can’t even open his shampoo bottle without crying out of frustration. I am praying that in time things go back to some kind of normal.
I am still raw… my feelings of loss are overwhelmingly painful and scary. I keep trying to explain, “This is just too much to bear! I can’t stand it!” But no one hears me. So I will cry when I want, yell at God, scream into my pillow, shut out well-meaning, but not good for me people. I am not suppressing nor avoiding my grief. Its how I feel! Not letting anyone take away my right to it. Most people are clueless. They attempt to comfort me and give me advice and encourage me to “get over it” and “get on with your life” as soon as possible. Yeah whatever.
Their discomfort and awkwardness with my situation is leading to some pretty severe “foot-in-mouth” disease. I will keep trying to find humor in everything – laughter releases endorphins and may ease my pain. My motto – smiling through my tears.
This was to be my year…grappling with faith and clutching at hope…♥