Sometimes...

...when I wake up in the morning (or at 5pm from a "nap"), I stretch and gulp in huge breaths of hope, feeling for precious seconds of semi-awareness that it never happened.

Sometimes I dream that I'm completely fine. Able to run, and jump, and play like I want. That I'm not still healing. That I don't have physical therapy. And that my life has not turned into what feels like one big nuclear meltdown.

Sometimes I wish that I didn't have a humongous scar down both sides of my leg which people tell me I should get made into a killer snake tattoo.

But then, I always come back to face TRUTH. Bitter, bone-crushing truth. I can't run. I can't jump. I can't play. I can barely walk. And I'm permanently defaced.

* * *

My mom railed on me today about not keeping up on my home exercises from therapy and again nagged me about my claims to "a fiercely independent spirit" that she has yet to see. I finally painted it clearly to her that there's no way for that to exist here. Because I live with parents who assert dominance, demand respect, and have a problem when I try to display my way, and it conflicts with or bashes against theirs.

I want to leave, to go elsewhere, to be anywhere but this hole that feels like I'm falling forever into nothing but darkness.

My room is a shambles. I just picked it up like two days ago. And again it's absolutely trashed. Like can't-see-the-floor-trashed. For anyone who knows me and my sense of order and cleanliness, you'll understand how telling this is.

I'm ready for some light. And hope. That isn't dreamt.

Comments

Sarah said…
The kids and I were just talking about you, how we hope you move back to Utah soon so that you can help Spencer make a fast triangle pinewood derby car. (Sierra's derby was changed to June, and anyone can participate!)

Anyway, the kids got excited and said, "Is he moving back? Can he live with us, PLEASE!"

:)

(You can have the whole basement to yourself. Maybe we will even clean up our mess a bit so that you can have your own clean corner somewhere. :)
April 17, 2009 at 6:17 PM
SWILUA said…
hang in there... xo
April 17, 2009 at 8:12 PM
Randi Kay said…
Oh my darling David. Thank you for the Birthday phone call! One of these days I'm going to fly to Florida and rescue you.
April 18, 2009 at 5:54 PM
JackieE said…
You are an amazing writer. This post was beautiful. But you need to be strong! You will get through this. It is already a miracle that you are still with us and you've already come so far. Just the slightest limp when we saw you the other day! You have so much to give including writing the next great American novel!
April 21, 2009 at 3:12 PM
Unknown said…
Are you saving that mess for me to come and clean up? :D

Sometimes at that moment between sleep and awake I have a brief thought that my grandma is still here. I'm glad you are.

Great authors don't need great legs. And, dude, you'll be able to out run and out skate everyone soon- the day after you got off crutches you could out bike anyone with normal abilities :)

But for your pain, my heart hurts a lot and also wishes this had never happened to you.
April 24, 2009 at 7:39 PM
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