Surrender. Y’all. I can’t even.
About the time I was ready to go live with this new site, my whole world had turned upside down. These last 6 months have been absolute hell. I have gone through hard things before, but typically as a spouse, a mother, and a daughter. There was never anything that impacted me in the way this injury has.
Exactly Dr. Phil
In the last 6 months, I have learned more about myself than I can articulate. I have learned so much about my family and friends. I am a blessed woman. I truly am. But damn. Seriously. DAMN.
Be careful what you hope and pray for. I asked God to teach me to surrender. I have been on the bathroom floor since. Crying, fighting, submitting, surrendering. Sometimes, the battle has been minute by minute: suicidal ideations, feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness. I’d get my head far enough above water to catch my breath before the next set of waves showed up and forced me under again.
Physical pain, nerve pain nonetheless. Soul pain. Screaming hysterically in the hospital that I was going to die. I realize who has shown up and stayed by my side as I fought to find myself. Physical therapy, occupation therapy, and 12 weeks of intensive trauma therapy. My caregivers and providers, all the way around, were lifesavers. My purpose became healing. God said all those boxes under your bed, all those memories you buried, we are going through all of them. Get comfortable with pain because we will touch everything your life was based on.
I was forced to shut down and sit down.
I have spent months in silence. I couldn’t trust my emotions or my words. I had no emotional regulation. I tried to warn everyone around me. There were a lot of people who got it full frontal because they wouldn’t hear me. Everything was overstimulating, from long sleeves on my arm to loud noises. It was weeks before I could sleep with a sheet over my arm. God forbid you touched it; I came out of my skin in pain.
My creativity disappeared. My executive function. My voice.
When your income and livelihood depends on those things it adds a whole new level of hell. Financially I am ruined. If it wasn’t for help from my parents and my son I’d be starving and homeless. What a humiliating experience. There is a fine line between humility and humiliation and the humiliation intertwined through so many of my personal stuck points.
Every ounce of fight I had went into fighting for survival. People came at me expecting me to be my resilient self, she didn’t exist. She who used to appear to have it all couldn’t scrape it together. I walked away from those people. I didn’t have a choice. I tried. I tried to explain. I tried to warn people. Some of those relationships I don’t want back. If that’s how you respond then you can stay over there. Through out my trauma therapy I looked at those relationships closely, and for my own sense of self worth and healing, boundaries were laid. Forgiveness given. Reconciliation is unlikely.
The ones that consistently showed up. The ones that helped me. Those people have my undying respect and loyalty. Helping me shower, watching as I tried to do things and then jumping in when I couldn’t, the people that showed me grace and mercy and continued to call and text to check on me. Those people are saints.
Radial nerve palsy is still a battle. I have about 40% of usage of my hand, wrist, elbow and shoulder back. I am 5 months into a process that they estimate to take 18 months to completely recover from. I hold my breath when I have to take a hoodie off, I didn’t realize it until someone pointed it out, but there is a real fear of getting stuck and not being able to get it off alone. I have had to ask people to help me get a t-shirt off and over my head because I couldn’t do it alone. If you haven’t seen me it’s hard to comprehend. A gracious friend bought me a journal and markers. I just stared at her. Handwriting is still beyond my capabilities.
But God.
I haven’t lacked anything. Throughout this process I have learned provision of God in my daily needs. If I don’t have the resources I have just taken it as a hard no. The next year or so will see improvements, but slow and steady wins the race.
