One Year Later and I’m Still a Wreck (no pun intended?)
I had it in my head that today I would write some big long post about what happened. Or maybe an email— a long, eloquent one. And I’d send it out to my best friends and the people who were there for me through everything. It would say everything I never said, it would explain everything I never could, and mostly, it would say thank you. But today is winding down, and, well, that didn’t happen.
The truth is, today was both harder and easier than I expected. I went to work and, honestly, hardly thought about it. Tonight, on the other hand, brought a lot of emotions— most of which, I’m not entirely sure why I’m feeling. So, here is what I have to say:
A year ago something really shitty happened. I can’t blame anyone for it, and I can’t do anything about it. It just happened. And that sucked. A lot. But I got through it, mostly with the help of the incredible network of friends, family, and complete strangers I’m lucky enough to have. I will never be able to thank them enough for everything they did, and I’ll probably never stop feeling guilty for it, either.
It wasn’t the most graceful recovery, and I certainly wasn’t always the best patient. The hardest part wasn’t the physical injury (though I’ll admit, a shattered pelvis isn’t any fun), but really the emotional toll it took. I felt like I had lost every ounce of independence. I felt like a burden on my family and my friends. I was so angry at times that I was stuck there I just wanted to scream. But eventually that ended and I started walking. Then I was climbing stairs. And soon enough I was going out for coffee. Then ice cream. And then beer.
Admittedly, the last year has had it’s ups and downs. The accident (that sounds so ominous) affected me in a lot of ways that I never anticipated… and realizing that has been incredibly hard for me (see: that time in New York I cried over maybe the most delicious meal ever… Sorry, Jo). But I’m trying to work through it and to better myself because of it and get to a point where it’s just some faint memory— and not just because I was heavily medicated.
I feel like this post isn’t going where I want it to, so I’m just going to end it here. Maybe next year I’ll set up some sort of interview scenario (that was a joke, Katie). I’m going to leave you with a quick story about something amusing that has come from “the accident”:
I have two pretty major scars on my chest (in addition to the billions of small ones scattered everywhere else). They have since faded significantly, but were pretty bright red/purple last summer. Now, I was (obviously) completely aware of them, but still slightly shocked whenever guys would use them as a pick up line— yes, they do that. So whenever someone would come over and begin a conversation with “wow, those are some pretty gnarly scratches… do you have a cat or something?” I would decide to tell a significantly more interesting story (i.e. stuck in a tree due to skydiving mishap). I managed to convince more than a few guys that these obscure, unbelievable things happened to me, but I might have taken it a step too far when I told the bartender I have the hots for (it’s always a bartender with me, isn’t it?) that I was mauled by a bear. In Guam.
I don’t even think they have bears in Guam.
@1 year ago with 1 note#life #accident #bear #bears #Guam #oops
