“Write hard and clear about what hurts”
My personal headspace has been the hardest part of this journey. It’s constantly up and down depending on the day, time of day, or what is going on. I haven’t figured out what sets off a hard day and what contributes to a good day. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to a good day verse a bad day.
The good days are really okay days, at best. I’ve fallen into a little routine that I take a lot of comfort in. Routines have always been a coping mechanism for me and I have never handled them being interrupted very well. The days that I stay on my routine feel like a new normal for me.
I have mixed feelings about this new normal because I so desperately want my life to get back to its regular normal. But I’ll take the new normal because it’s better than miserable.
The bad days are frustrating. You just kind of fall into them and before you know it you’re frustrated and annoyed at everything. Once you’re knee deep in a bad day it just keeps pulling you in, like quick sand. Most of the time, I think it’s easier to just accept that it’s going to be a hard day and go with it rather than fight it. Going with it means you’ll spend a decent amount of time crying.
On a bad day I can feel myself blindly grabbing for anything that will offer any type of relief or distraction from my broken leg and shattered heel. I laid in bed one night, sobbing, and prayed. It was the first time I had prayed in years and I had no idea if it would help but I figured it wouldn’t hurt.
The first week I was home was the most difficult. I had a lot of time to myself, which allowed me to really think about the accident for the first time. I kept replaying the entire thing over and over in my head until my mom would come home and I would be in tears. I saw myself sitting at the top of the hill on my little sled with a gut feeling that I shouldn’t go down but did it anyway. It would then flash to me screaming and laying on my broken sled at the bottom of the hill. I saw Joe’s face standing over me with as much fear in it as I could hear in my own voice. It just kept playing in my head on a loop.
I carry a certain amount of guilt for the burden I’ve placed on my parents. I apologized to my mom one night as she was helping me out of the shower because I’m so much work right now. She told me she didn’t want to hear me say it again, but it sneaks into my thoughts on hard days. It was the first time I have ever been scolded for apologizing; normally it’s the other way around.
One of my friends sent a very nice card with a letter in it. In the letter it said, “You will defy any limitation the accident places on you.” I’m putting a lot of stock in that right now because I’m really nervous I’m going to be too scared to try new things because this recovery process feels like it has been so long. I was already a pretty cautious person when it came to anything somewhat dangerous. Heights, skiing, and tubing are all things that give me a decent amount of anxiety. Every time I watch a video reel of people wiping out while sledding, skating, running, etc, I cringe and my stomach turns a little.
Normally, when I’m stressed or frustrated with something I go on a run or do a little yoga. It’s hard to find an outlet right now because I can’t do either of those things. Writing these posts have been helpful but it’s not as satisfying as a long run used to be.
Overall, the hard days are becoming far and few between. I feel like I’m on the upswing. It just happens to be a very long and slow swing.