Eight years something happened that while major, I was not able to talk about with anyone. I’ve had three shrinks, several doctors and many friends, and few knew what happened to me. Mostly because I’m a private person, the other part being avoidance.
Avoidance can only be maintained for so long, and in December I had to face one of my worst memories. I reinjured my back, an injury I couldn’t even talk about, much less face the prospect of fixing. I did what I always do, I shut down.
Only this time, I wasn’t able to buy any more grace. I signed myself into a very nice and secure psychiatric ward, because the thinking was driving me slowly insane. Thinking about recovery, thinking about not being able to take care of Joshua, of the injury that did this to me in the first place. Too much thinking I didn’t enjoy having forced on me.
What I learned there was this. I am strong enough to take this on. I really am. And that talking about shitty ass issues makes the nightmares go away.
At the first part of this month, I had a hip/pelvic bone replacement. At the old age of 32. Mentally, I’ve never been better. Some would think that this was just a surgery. No, it went far deeper than that. This was a reclaiming of my body, a rebirth if you must.
I know that after this, I can take anything on.
