I’m back, BITCHESSS!!!
I have been planning this post since the day of my accident. I know I posted about my first steps while I was still in the first hospital (read about it here if you need a refresher) but I’ve always been planning my comeback post. I knew that it would mean that I finally felt like me again. It has taken SO many unfinished posts, scribbles on napkins, and the fast approaching 9 month accident anniversary for me to finally piece together this post. NINE FREAKING MONTHS. Other people pop humans out of their vaginas and all I got was this post. I should make that into a t-shirt. But really, that’s how obsessed with blogging I was. Blog 3 times a week. Work 40+ hours. Cofounder and Vice President of my volunteer group. Hang out with friends constantly. Bake at least three times a week for parties, birthdays, or just to try a new recipe.
Yup. My life was heaven. But a busy fucking heaven at that. Numerous people told me they lived vicariously through me but the truth is, I never had any time to myself. No time to just slow down and take a deeeeeep breath. It was just GO-GO-GO constantly.
Until that moment right before I hit the ground when I flew off my ATV.
In that moment, that super drawn out slow motion moment…it was like my life flashed before my eyes. I didn’t process any of it, I only had time to yell “OH FUCK!!” before I hit the ground.
Right before my accident, my family and I had stopped to explore some awesome artifacts. I’m an animal…GRRR!! An animal who had no idea of the terrible accident ahead of her.
I was also oblivious as shit in the first few weeks after my accident which didn’t help initiate my mental recovery process for a very long time. I didn’t realize the extent of my injury. I thought to myself that I’ll just go back to camp and read for the rest of the trip. Maybe I’ll just get in the Commander (an off-roading vehicle for 2 people) and let my uncle drive. Sit on a pillow or something to help my aching ass. Not once did I think to myself that I had the potential to be majorly injured. I think the shock numbed the pain initially.
I wasn’t ready for the news that came at the first hospital.
Doctor: You’re not connected.
Me: Excuse me?
Doctor: You’re not connected. You broke your sacrum. Your break is unlike what we’ve seen before. Your top half of your spine is not connected to the bottom. We need to helicopter you immediately to a trauma center for evaluation to see if you need spinal surgery.
I was floored. To make me feel better, the doctor and nurses had been telling me that it probably was just a bruised ass at best and not to worry about it. The multiple X-rays and CT Scan proved otherwise. I’m the kind of person that doesn’t like things to be sugar coated when I’m in serious situations, just tell it to me like it is. I wasn’t expecting an injury that severe at all.
I was in shock. No way that this could be happening to me. A million and one worries crossed my mind in an instant but not once did I ever doubt my recovery. It was never an option for me to fail or not fully recover. In fact, it didn’t solidify as a thought so much so that it took months before I looked back and realized that I never even acknowledge the fact that if I had just given up on life and refused to work as hard as I did, I probably wouldn’t be back to where I am today. But shit, it didn’t hit me that I couldn’t walk on my own for the longest time.
That sounds weird, right? Just imagine, I’m fucking bedridden for days and those days turned into weeks. But it all seemed very normal to me for some reason. Very logical in a strange way. I never thought to myself, “I can’t walk.” I always thought, “Alright, what’s my next step?” Literally :P “What’s my game plan?”
It didn’t help that throughout this entire ordeal, I felt immense guilt for my family. Guilt that I tried burying deep within me but it was eating me up inside. I already cut my family’s camping trip short because of my accident. And then my family spent days/nights in uncomfortable hospital chairs just sitting with me. Making sure I had everything I needed. Sacrificing their time, putting a stop on their lives to cater to me.
I felt so guilty. So horrible for wasting their time. So mad and angry at myself for not being able to go to the bathroom, change my clothes, brush my teeth… I couldn’t do fucking shit by myself and it ate me up inside. Fuck. It still bothers me now. I can’t write, read, or even think about this without tears coming to my eyes.
I reverted back to a child in terms of care but with a fully matured, aware mind. There’s nothing more humbling than consistently needing multiple nurses to pick you up and place you on a bedside toilet because you can’t fucking do it yourself. And then crying while trying to hold yourself up on the handles using atrophied arm muscles because the pain from sitting on a toilet seat for even the slightest bit was too much to handle.
My poor mother had to dress me. Pick up things that I accidentally dropped on the floor. Feed me when I was too tired to move and could barely chew. She did all those things while running on little to no sleep on hard ass plastic hospital chairs. My aunts stayed with me for days on end making sure I had everything. My uncle and cousin were so helpful and there for me right after the accident took place. My extended family in other states sent their love and well wishes.
Fuck. My entire family banded together to save me. They kept me strong. If it weren’t for every single one of them, I don’t think I could have made it. Their love was so incredible, so unrelenting, and so ridiculously faithful that I was and still am completely floored by their generosity. I feel like there is no way for me to repay them all for everything they’ve done except to rebuild myself better than before so that their efforts were not in vain.
It has taken me fucking forever it seems like to slowly get back on track. I am not a patient person and allowing myself the time and leniency to recover was one of the hardest things for me to overcome mentally. Many, many months after my accident, I’m happy to say that I feel a lot better but I’m still not where I want to be yet. I’m not bothered as much though because I know I’ve taken the time to make sure each part of me is healing properly to make a better whole “me”. I’m finally starting to feel a little of that crazy Vyvacious energy so many of my friends know me for. I’ve been careful not to overexert myself and I’m pleased to see the slow but persistent progression in the right direction. I don’t want to go back to the crazy schedule I had before so I have to sometimes remind myself to reel it in a little and not go overboard.
I also realized that learning to walk again was just the first step of many in my focused healing process. That’s the first thing people ask me, “Was it hard to learn to walk again?” Yes, it absolutely was. But it was even harder to stay sane throughout the entire ordeal. When you’re stuck in a chair or bed for days on end, cabin fever doesn’t even BEGIN to describe the insane frenzy you feel emitting from within your very core. I’ve acquired more patience, more peace, and more strength from this crazy journey…and it feels so damn good. When life takes away your physical prowess, even for the slightest bit, that’s when the true test begins to see just how strong you really are. I’m glad I got the physical aspect of me almost to where I want it but I’m even happier that I stayed focused and became mentally stronger throughout the entire thing while maintaining my happy, thankful nature because I know just how fucking fortunate I actually am to get this second chance at life.
This second chance in life wouldn’t taste so sweet without all of you amazing people. I just want to take the time to thank everyone who was so supportive during my recovery period. All those messages, notes, flowers, gifts, food, visits, etc. really helped to keep me from becoming depressed in such a tough situation. I know that I took a very long hiatus from social media and any real interaction with anyone. It was necessary for me to heal. I had to accept the fact that I was injured and I realized I couldn’t do that when I was getting showered with so much attention, albeit much appreciated attention. After every visit from someone, whether it be family or friends, I would immediately pass out for hours afterward due to exhaustion. I soon realized that I needed to retreat and accept the fact that I was severely injured so that I could truly start my healing process. Thank you to those who understood my situation and respected my wishes to support me from afar. Unfortunately, not everyone was so kind and understanding but sadly, when you’re at your lowest, you find out who your true friends are.
I hope that this post is read and shared out of love and genuine concern for my well-being, not out of the need to gossip and spread lies, I’ve had to deal with a lot of that bullshit too. To those sad, messed up people, please get a life. Focus on bettering yourself because for fuck’s sake, you need it.
For any new readers I may have obtained since the accident, please understand that my blog is quirky, over-the-top, and not meant for the highly sensitive. If you don’t like what you’re reading, feel free to close out of my site and understand that it’s your choice to read what I post.
With that said, thank you again everyone for all your love and support. It feels so damn good to be blogging again. I’ve waited many months to be able to finally say this…
I’M BACK, BITCHESSS!! :P
Until next time, y’all :D