This post is hard to write every year, but this year I’m starting early, like Friday early before the Tuesday anniversary of my death. Yeah this is why I’ve been radio silent over the weekend and more.
I have previously posted a page about what I could dredge from my damaged brain, so I really don’t have much to add to that story. Over the years I have also recounted the emotions of the event, not just the facts and timeline. But even after 20 years it’s still like an open wound emotionally. I mean there has been some healing going on, there has to be otherwise I couldn’t function in society. If I had remained like I was the first month after the wreck, I would be dead. That’s no joke. I was almost catatonic that first couple of months, partly from the emotional damage, and partly because I was dealing with a broken body. Not just a little broken, barely-together broken and missed some broken bones fixed. Not that I blame anyone, a lot of my brokenness was harder than F to find. Like they knew about the fibula, but the tibia had reduced the fracture while I was flipping and flopping like a rag doll so hard that swelling around the optic nerves made me temp blind, as in who turned out the lights blind. And to give an idea of how messed up emotionally I was I just thought the lights were out so I could sleep, not that I was blind. But anyway the forces on my leg from tumbling on all three axis lined it up good enough that I only have a small-but-still-painful bone scar on my tibia.
I still have a problem with bending and turning, not this bad, but close. I have to make written plans for getting off the floor when I look under the bed for lost character sheets because I’m old and things don’t work like they used to. Part of that is from the wreck.
Another thing I have is flinching when a car comes from behind while I’m walking. Since it has been 20 years after the wreck I’m assuming that is pretty much a permanent thing now, and going to happen every time now. The really bad thing about that is sometimes I flinch so hard I hurt myself from the sudden jerk. The old muscles just aren’t what they used to be.
On days like this I spend a lot of time dwelling on mortality, mine and the people around me. Deep down I know I will reach my “sell by date” and expire. But my experiences tell me I’m going to suffer a lot before I get there. And that’s what really scares me, suffering for no good reason.
Witch on a Bicycle 