Here it is… FINALLY. T- 6 days.

It doesn’t make any sense that I’m more nervous this year than last year, but this world is full of nonsense, am I right?

It’s comforting that I know what to expect in some aspects: I know the layout of the hospital, the housing, what kinds of things are involved with therapy, and there will be some familiar faces. However, the most stressful thing by far is not knowing exactly how long we’ll be there, if I’ll have the same discharge dates from both programs (doubtful), or if we’ll have to relocate to a hotel at some point during our stay. If you’re confused about everything I just said, go read: You can’t always get what you want.

If I had all that information I’d feel BETTER, but still anxious. I will freely admit, I don’t feel as ready this year as I did last. From January to April of last year, I enrolled myself in Katy’s Boot Camp. I committed to a set routine of exercises and stuck to it leading up to Shepherd. After coming home in late May, the year went by as fast as a game as dominoes and it seemed like one setback after the next: a new, intense back pain; hormone issues; thyroid problems; periods of depression; low blood pressure – it felt like I was constantly getting knocked down as soon as I’d had gotten back up. The last half of 2012 was largely spent painting, preparing for art festivals, and pimping my calendars (I was going for the alliteration there). Then, since the beginning of this year, I’ve been caught up with my classes. I’ve been out of college for 5-6 years and am not very studious anyways, but I tried to put everything else aside and make school my main focus. Heck, I can count on just two hands how many times I’ve painted this year. Other than working with a personal trainer three times a week, my exercise program has been bumped to the back burner.

Do these all sound like excuses? Sounds like it to me. I know I can’t always be so hard on myself (we’re all our own worst critic, huh) but it’s tough not to be disappointed in myself. But, with that being said – and before I dwell on that too much and lower my self esteem anymore- I just don’t feel as physically prepared as I was last time. Oh well, because ready or not, here it comes… and it’s gonna hurt.

Really though, despite all that, I’m ready. As ready as I can be. It sucks I’ll have to make new friends because it’s unlikely the same patients/families will be there again at this particular time. Regardless of how awkward I think I am, I’m evidently social and can make friends easily (knock on wood). Then again, if I’m doing both programs simultaneously, I’ll probably be too tired to do much outside of therapy anyways. Although I am determined to go on a few outings that I missed last time, mainly the Aquarium, Ikea, and Lenox Mall.

At this point, however, I’m just taking it day by day and rollin with the punches. I don’t know exactly what to expect over the next few weeks, but I feel pretty confident I will overcome my obstacles.. Despite all odds, I’ve gotten this far, and nothing is gonna hold me back now.

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place…. Filled with beautiful people.”

Well, my creative juices evidently aren’t flowing tonight, so let me just dive (ha!) right in:

You always want what you can’t have. Isn’t that what folks say? The straight haired girls all want curls and the brunettes wanna be blonde. How about this interpretation I heard: quadriplegics want to be paraplegics, paraplegics want to walk, and people who walk want to fly. It really resonated with me because I can totally relate. I often say I would take functioning hands over moving legs any day. I stare enviously at paraplegics with their working hands, the ability to propel themselves in their manual chairs, and enough strength in their upper body to transfer themselves. Shoot- enough strength in their arms to do so many of the normal things I used to do without pain or struggle. With my almost complete lack of triceps, I cannot raise my arm 90 degrees without my hand flopping down and hitting myself in the head because I simply don’t have the muscle. You don’t realize how much you use those suckers til they’re gone. Not to mention that with the total lack of hand function that keeps my fingers curled into fist, all my neighborly waves look like a Jersey Shore fist bump. Side note: how am I ever suppose to hitchhike?

Now only do I envy the upper body ability of my lower-level comrades in chairs, but the general perception of the manual chair vs. the power chair. I have been out numerous times in both chairs and let me just tell you, the power chair attracts 100% more attention. Maybe it’s the striking electric blue color of my new ride, but curious eyes were buggin out way before that. Does a power chair look scary? Do I appear more handicapped when I’m in my power chair as opposed to my manual? Does a power chair implicate complete helplessness? I don’t know the answer, but I’ll tell you for a fact that the power chair has more of a stigma than the manual. And if I were able to go out in my manual chair and have the ability to really propel myself (I have been passed by a snail) and be completely independent, I would be in that chair all the time. I feel more comfortable in that chair in social settings. Unfortunately, I’m just not there yet. It’s a big goal of mine, and a pretty far-fetched one with my level of injury, but I yearn to get out of the big, scary power chair. Besides, my manual chair is zebra print and hot pink, I’ll really be riding in style. With a LOT of hard work, I’ll be independent in my manual chair one day, no matter how temporary it may be. Because let’s face it, humans are meant to move with our legs, not our arms. After a few years, it begins to take its toll.

I’ve also kinda realized something else about the mental recovery about this injury: it’s like losing a loved one. Maybe you don’t realize how much you love your abilities, but after they’re taken away, you realize how precious they truly were. The simple physical abilities to live life in a “normal” and easy way that we all take for granted. Abilities are a gift, not a guarantee. Once you lose them, you’re left lost, angry, confused, frustrated, irritated, depressed, and longing for them. You give anything to have one more day with them, to cherish every moment. You know if you could go back, you wouldn’t take a single second for granted. You literally yearn for them so bad that it hurts. And those feelings don’t subside quickly. They linger around. One day you think you’re all better, then the next day it smacks you in the face and knocks you off your feet (literally, in my case). Time does help, but it never complete heals- you’ll always carry that scar, a constant reminder of the pain that caused it. That’s what the mental/emotional aspect of this injury recovery has been for me… and if that’s not similar to what it feels like after you lose a loved one, then I’ve been doing it all wrong.

With all that being said, I leave you with this:
ELEVEN DAYS TIL SHEPHERD! Yeehaw!

Well, I have been avoiding this blog long enough so I will finally bite the bullet and try to once again to put my scattered thoughts into a reasonably well defined journal entry. Don’t misunderstand me, I have also been busy with school so that has taken up a lot of my time; but instead of writing, I find myself looking for distractions. Books, tv, movies, games- anything to take my brain away from confronting my feelings and assessing my life. Of course, you can only go so long until your emotions are ready to explode.

A long time ago, on my Believe in Miracles blog, I wrote about the stages of grief. Just to refresh your memory, there are 5 (or some say 7, but I’d rather go through just 5) stages of grief. They are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. At one time, I thought I thoroughly completed the cycle and was done. Wham, bam, thank you mamm, got the T-shirt and was on my way. I felt I had peace and it was time I moved on. Or so I thought.

Now I’m a firm believer that it’s not a neat and orderly cycle. It’s more like a pinball machine where you’re violently bounced from stage to stage. There’s no rhyme or reason, no pattern or easy way to navigate through coping a major life change. You may feel at peace for so long, but then unexpectedly begin to suffer back through the tough trials that you thought were settled. At least, that’s my theory.

That being said, lately I have felt a flood of emotions that have me trying to completely void them out and focus on any distractions to keep myself from dwelling in sorrow. The accident has just been such a drastic life change, in every aspect of my life. Physical abilities aside, adjusting emotionally has proved far more difficult. I know that my body does not define who I am, but it is hard not to feel like it doesn’t affect it.

Prior to my injury, I never sat still. Working as a waitress, I was always on my feet, but even at home, I was often doing things that kept me moving. Not only did I love to clean, but I was constantly doing things around my house like rearranging furniture, hanging or moving pictures, curtains, bookshelves – anything I could reach and then some. I wouldn’t hesitate to climb 10 ft ladders or climb on my countertops in order to accomplish my tasks. My life was anything but routine; quite the contrary, actually, it was chaotic and spontaneous. I didn’t live in the future, I never made plans, I just went where the wind took me. I was only 23 and still discovering who I was and who I wanted to be. You could have called me a bit of a free spirit.

Needless to say, the accident has completely revamped my lifestyle. Spontaneity is out the window. Now, it takes 1-2 hours just to shower, get dressed, get up and get ready for the day. No more jumping in my car to go on a random road trip, or meeting my friends at the bar in 15 minutes. Going out now takes time and planning ahead. I feel these circumstances have undoubtedly affected my relationships, which is what this blog was originally about.

I’m realizing how much my relationships with some of my friends have drastically changed and to be honest, it’s heartbreaking. I recently saw this saying on Facebook and it hit the nail on the head, “Hard times reveal true friends.” For a long time, I was angry about that. Angry with the people who have completely vanished. What changed? Do they not know how to be around me now? Was I no longer beneficial to them? Did I no longer have anything to offer? I don’t have those answers and never will, but that’s ok. I was mad for a long time, without having any closure. There were times I feel like I had to beg people to come visit. I get empty promises and never hear back. That stings. No one should have to take that from people you love.

My life stopped on June 13, 2010. I have been working since then to regain my life. My independence, my purpose, my identity. Fighting through a life changing accident changes you so much and makes you question so much about yourself. There are many internal battles and struggles; your relationships should not be one of those struggles. My life stopped and everybody else (with the exception of maybe my mom who is my caregiver) got to move on. I feel like, because of my circumstances -no longer being able to go out whenever and wherever we wanted- really destroyed some of my relationships. It is hard to not feel angry about it sometimes, but I am beginning to find peace with it. Who needs friends like that?

While some people have vanished, there are old friends who reappeared. People who, no matter how much time passes or how out of touch you become, they will always be there for you when you get knocked down. There have been new friendships I’ve made since my injury and are undoubtedly lifelong relationships. Sincere and beautiful friendships that would not have happened had it not been for the accident. So I guess I look at it like this: my injury weeded out the people in my life who didn’t need to be there, brought back my true friends, and introduced me to precious, new relationships. That’s a positive way to look at it right?

On another note, only 52 days til Shepherd! I opted to postpone my return until I am finished with my classes (that I’m pretty are giving me an ulcer). I have been under the weather for the last few days with a bug, but hopefully I’ll be back on my feet by next week to start getting all my ducks in a row for Shepherd. Also, given I start feeling better, I’m finally going driving this weekend!! That’s a scary and exciting thought. I hope this blog made more sense written down than floating around in my head (although, to be honest, I didn’t proofread it well, so it’s likely a hot mess). It was just something I had to vent. Unless you been in this situation, you can’t quite grasp what a reality shock and heartbreak it is to lose people you loved in your life because of an injury/lifestyle change. But, c’est la vie! Til next time, au revoir.

“As we grow older we don’t lose friends, we just learn who the real ones are.”