Alcohol Ink on 9″ x 12″ Mineral Paper –
Custom Matted (12″ x 16″) – Frame not included –
Spoken for –
Today marks six months from the day that it happened. Even after being hit, I was so naive to think that I would need only a weekend or a week at most to rest and get back to normal. I laughed at doctors and therapists when they tried to explain to me that a month’s recovery from a traumatic injury would be a miracle. I’m sure they laughed right back at me for even thinking that now obviously, ridiculous thought.
It’s been six months and it still feels like it happened just days ago. Friends and family will try and tell me that I’ve advanced since January 20th and that I have gotten stronger each month. This blog is a chance for me to be as transparent as possible…so here’s the truth, I have a hard time seeing the progress I’ve made.
Every morning is the same – I wake up with excruciating pain from my hips down to my toes. As I try to work myself through that, my body reminds me of the pain from my neck down to my fingers. Most days I’ve gotten used to this. Most days I push and find the strength to ignore it and to splash all of that pain onto paper. But some days, like today, are different. Today I tried and I failed. Today I tried to push through but I let myself down. Today I was excited to take part in what was once normal activity. However, my body forced me into a reality check. The reality is that “things will get back to normal – but it will take a lot of time”. I’m not comfortable announcing a timeframe of when “normal” is expected to be back – every case is different and nothing in this world is guaranteed.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I died. My dad continues to repeat himself tirelessly with the phrase “be thankful to God you’re alive”. I’m not sure if he is trying to remind me that most people in this situation don’t get to walk away, or if he really isn’t sure that I’m grateful to God for allowing me to live. In the dream, I had a glimpse of what dying would be like, at least to my dream-state knowledge. In this particular nightmare, I saw myself as I disappeared from this life. I tried reaching out to loved ones but couldn’t get through to anyone. Leaving people behind is the absolute scariest and hardest thing a human will have to endure. So, yes, I am thankful I am alive. I’m thankful to God for everything that He’s blessed me with. But, at the same time, I am a person of this earth and it is hard to always be positive and to only be grateful when you have to adjust to a completely new lifestyle. A lifestyle that has deprived you of your independence, your strength, and the simple pleasures in life – like going to the movies and not screaming on the inside from the pain that comes with simply getting out of bed and going out. As a Christian, I only need joy in Jesus. But, as a human of this world, it is hard to hold on to just that some days. I feel guilty for complaining because I know that there are countless numbers of people who have it much worse than I do. Maybe, that’s what makes me weak or maybe I’m still in shock and haven’t found a way to cope with this yet. I have lost who I was. But, I have found myself through and in art. Most of the time that’s what keeps me going.
There are days, like today, where the hopelessness takes over and the fear gets a hold of me and the pain cannot be ignored. I try to read positive words and think bright thoughts (and if you know anything about me, you know how hard that is for me to do).
Sometimes, the only thing that helps is to have my time to break, to completely fall apart, to make and get it out of me and to try again tomorrow. Tomorrow could be better or it could be worse. But either way, tomorrow means that I survived today.