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The Angry Days

Disclaimer: there is lots of sweary honesty and sadness in this, but try and push through and read to the end. I also want you guys to know posting this I'm in a good place, but I hadn't been, and a wise lady told me I shouldn't be afraid to share that as much as anything else.

I've had a strange week this week. I think you could probably tell from my last post that I have started battling with the reality of what has happened. At first I was in pain, and so drugged up I couldn't think or stay awake. Then as I began to come round a little I just fed off the love and adrenaline, and began to plan and think positive, and concentrate on moving forward. If I kept making positive plans and focusing on what I still have and can still do, I would convince myself that this is not that bad. They're just legs after all. And then… then it started to hit me. And I became angry, and sad. So sad I felt numb. Still in my heart of all hearts was Georgie the fighter, but she had been swallowed by the enormity of what has happened. How my life has suddenly changed.

One day I was so angry I could barely be bothered to talk; and those who know me know how rare that is. I would just nod at the nurses. 'Can we give you a turn?' *Nod* 'Can we help you have a wash?' *Nod* 'Here's your tablets.' *Nod* 'Do you need anything else?' *Nod* followed by a single word 'Oramorph' 'Do you want your blanket back on?' *Nod* 'You alright George?' *Nod* I couldn't exactly pin point what I was angry at. Then I just got angry at myself for being angry. 'How the Fuck is this going to help you get better eh? I've always believed the sentiment, 'anger is like acid, it does more harm to the vessel in which it is stored, than to anything it is poured over'. Anger while a normal and healthy emotion to experience, shouldn't last too long. You have to forgive or risk being consumed by it yourself. I have always believed in forgiveness. But I had to figure out who and what I was angry at before I could forgive.

So here goes...

I was angry at myself - I had driven that road hundreds of times. I'm a safe driver. What the hell happened? What did I do differently? Why can't I bloody well remember? Look what you've put your loved ones through! Look at what you've done to yourself! You didn't hurt anyone else, and that's positive. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had.

Then I was angry at the other drivers who saw me run myself off the road and did nothing - It was obvious I was going to be hurt! I didn't break to avoid hitting you! And you just drove on. How could you? You didn't even come forward as a witness. You saw a car loose control and veer into the other lane and off the road, and just continued with your day. Did you even spare a thought later to wonder what had happened?

I was angry at the universe - Why me? Why my family? We'd been through enough! Things were just starting to look up after years of fighting. And why now? I'd been organising extra shifts and time off to support Mum and Dad through Dad’s heart op. In some ways it felt like a personal 'fuck you’, from whatever governing force you believe in. And of all the bones to break; my back? To lose my legs. I didn't deserve this. I don't care how self-righteous that sounds; I'm not an awful person, I'm fairly decent as people go. My loved ones didn't deserve this. And definitely not now. I should have been home this week with my Daddy. I should be holding his hand. I should be able to help and instead I am useless! Yeah, I was pretty fucked off at the whole situation.

(Sorry for all the swearing but that's the truth of what I was thinking so I left it in)

I'd been having back trouble for the past 2 years since I was attacked (which is another story), and I'd been asking my doctor to stop putting up or changing my painkillers and investigate; why was I 26 and having severe, recurrent, and disabling back pain. I'd been off on the sick just before the crash. In fact, I'd had my first full day back in work the day before the crash. I was suddenly angry at him - maybe there had been something that if found and treated would have changed things. A weakness predisposing me to fracture maybe? And I was angry at my attackers, in a way I hadn't been before; when I was attacked I had decided to not necessarily forgive - because I don't think I could - but to move on. What they did to me would NOT affect my future life. I wouldn't be scared to go out partying. I wouldn't change my flirty personality. I wouldn't cower or be ashamed. They wouldn't change my life; they didn't deserve that much influence. But now if the beating I sustained to my lower back was in any way connected, then God I hated them, as the potential first domino in a chain of events.

I was even angry at messages I was getting - the 'wishing you a speedy recovery' and the 'get well soon’s. I AM PARALYSED BELOW THE WAIST! I'm gonna be in rehab for a year plus! Speedy recovery and 'soon' do not apply here. (Harsh maybe, but true)

I was angry that some of my loved ones seemed to be finding this harder than me - it was ME that couldn't move my legs, or feel when I'd shit myself, or sit myself forward just a tad to rearrange my pillows. I was the one living in a world of constant frustration. A 26 year old, independent woman reduced to ringing a buzzer because I'd dropped something on the floor, or my feet were cold and I needed a blanket, or simply because I was uncomfortable and couldn't sort it myself. So many times I just wanted to flip the tables, throw stuff or scream and then cry in loud, physical sobs - but God help anyone that came to try and comfort me.

And then I was back to being angry at myself.

Because accidents happen. You can be the safest driver in the world, but accidents can still happen. I didn't do this on purpose.

Because being angry at those two cars does nothing. I will never know why they kept going. It's not worth my brain space.

Because who really deserves any of the shit that happens in life? Who deserves to have a child who gets cancer? Who deserves any of the terrible heart ache life can bring? As a doctor, a HCA, a general Human being, I have met some beautiful souls who have been thrown serial tragedies. Life can just be that cruel. And whether you believe there's a reason for everything that happens or not, I think we can agree on that.

Because I will NEVER know if there was a predisposing injury. It is pointless to theorise and speculate. It does not help me now. And I don't want to bring those two people into my thought space again. I have moved on. I am not a rape victim. I am a rape survivor. And if I can get through that...

Because people were, and still are, just trying to show they care. Trying to show they’re behind me. Trying to say, ‘we want you better as soon as you can be’. And people were upset and struggling to accept someone they cared about had been hurt. They are also struggling to know what to say; what words can even do justice to such sentiments right now? How could I be angry at that? So if you were one who said anything along the lines of ‘get well soon’, trust that I know what you meant, and I love you too.

Maybe I was a horrible person after all. No. It's normal. I'm allowed to be angry. I'm allowed to be human.

And so I realise in all of this there was no real blame and no real forgiveness to dish out.

Just acceptance. Accepting this has happened. Accepting it isn't anyone's fault. Accepting what will be will be.

And just like that I am once again determined that they are 'just legs'. But they are my legs. Legs I can try my damnedest to get working again as best I can. And if that best still requires a wheelchair, still labels me ‘disabled’ so what? Because I am still me; I will still do, I will still be anything and everything I dreamed. Maybe in a different way, but who knows maybe in a better way. And the best thing; I am loved for being me. I'm so lucky. I'm so grateful.

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