I came across Things I'm Afraid to Tell You via Sweet Fine Day, who signed on through Creature Comforts and couldn't help but think, yes! And then, I should do one too. And then, oh god, but I'm kind of afraid to tell you.
Encouraged by all of the brave participants and links up on Creature Comforts, and wanting to help make the blogging world have more of the writing that I want to read, I've decided to give it a go.
So here's something I'm afraid to tell you:
Sometimes I think about things I have done to complete strangers that were pretty of awful. When Alex was leaving the hospital almost a year ago today (May 9, 2011) after being run over by a car, it was pouring rain outside. It was also around 4:00 in the afternoon and New York has this awful and very un-new-york-like thing called a "shift change" with cab drivers. This means it is absolutely impossible to hail a cab between the hours of 4 and 5 PM. (I hadn't know about shift change at this point in my New York life yet).
So picture Alex in a wheel chair with a crazy erector set type thing literally drilled into his broken bones (it's called an external fixator), in a ton of pain, and just wanting his ten day stay at the hospital to be over. We weren't even going home, we were staying at our amazing friend's apartment in an elevator building- since Alex could not get up stairs at all. And picture me, in the pouring rain (seriously it was pouring rain like how it does during funerals in movies!) in front of the hospital with about 5 other people scattered down the street, all trying to hail a cab during shift change (it's also impossible to hail cabs in the rain at any time of day, so basically all odds were against me).
Here's when my memory get's fuzzy, but I think I thought that I hailed a cab after maybe 40 minutes of trying and that someone a few yards in front of me took it. But it could have been that he had hailed the cab. The next thing I knew, I was screaming and cursing at a complete stranger. As the rain kept pouring down, I was yelling obscenities on 3rd avenue and screaming about how my husband had been in a car accident and was trying to leave the hospital. I was completely full of hatred towards this man that I believed to be stealing a cab from me. In that moment, I thought that no one else could possibly need a cab more than I did.
He told me that his wife had just had a baby and that they were trying to leave the hospital as well.
Then itdawned on me that the group of us trying to hail cabs scattered down the street were probably all dealing with loved ones in the hospital. And although this man was there for a happy occasion, he was none the less dealing with the very stressful situation of trying to get his wife and new baby home.
He then offered me the cab. I couldn't take it. I mumbled an apology and then speed walked down the block, crying. Crying in a way that I had been doing a lot during that ten day period. I felt ashamed over how I was handling all of the stress.
I'm afraid to tell you that it's been a year since Alex's accident and I'm still scared about the way it has changed my life and affected our relationship. I'm trying to stay positive, but so far nothing has changed for the better. All of the changes have been fore the worse. I lost a best friend from this accident who I have not spoken one word to in a year, and a mobile husband. A husband who got pure joy from riding his bike around the city. I am afraid to tell you that it has not been easy, but that I also can't really talk about it. I can't tell you about what we argue about or get sad about or worry about because I don't really want to, but also because I know that everyone wants me to tell them that we are okay now. Because it's not like Alex lost his leg, or is in a wheel chair or had some sort of brain injury. It's just a limp, right? It's just some relatively manageable pain. But it's so much more that that. We are both still working on the emotional injury that this accident brought us every single day. And I'm afraid to tell you that I don't know if I'm ready to accept the fact that life will never go back to the way it was before Alex got run over by a car.
It still hurts. A lot.
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but sometimes, it is just plain impossible to put a positive slant on a situation.
I'm also afraid to tell you that publishing this blog post was not easy- maybe you already know that- because I care about what you think of me. But as Jess Constable put it, who sort of started this brave posting trend, "do you want the icing or the cake?" I'd like the cake please, and I hope you do too.