Last week marked the anniversaries of my my accident, as well as my girlfriend's accident. Is it a bad thing that I still can't use the 'D' word? I don't know. It seems wrong to say that word. I'm a firm believer in past lives, I had to be once she left because I needed a reason for why things happened the way they did. So maybe it feels wrong to say that word because she is still around, she's just not a part of my life anymore. I never know how I'm gonna feel when the actual day rolls around. Some years I've purposely gotten myself involved in a project in hopes that the day will just sail by and I can move one. Most years I've tried to do that actually. This year, I've hardly thought about it at all but have been a bit scatterbrained the past week or so. The day before her anniversary everyone was at my grandpa's funeral and I was pretty much on my own. All of my friends were busy. I had some things to do around the house but not nearly enough to fill all of my time. Even when I do find a way to distract myself, the results are never what I hope them to be because I can't be around people and busy the full 24 hours. Eventually I have to be by myself and think about it and remember it. This year, I thought, would be a big year for remembrance and maybe even a little celebration of the fact that I'm still here a decade later. But my birthday passed with little fanfare and few people seem at all willing to talk about that time with me. Nobody talks about anything in my family. So I just shut down. And decide that there's no reason for celebration or reflection or anything. I guess that's just the way I was raised. As a result, I talked very little about what happened a decade ago and I didn't write about it at all.
So, what's changed a decade after she and I were separated? Quite a bit. Funny thing about nearly dying, the effects of it last a lot longer than you would think. A friend reminded me that, in a way, the last decade has been about survival in general. After I survived the accident I had to wake up from the coma, then I had to deal with the PTSD and depression, then I had to survive my near self-destruction and now it's about living with the anemia. All of that being a result of the accident (except for the anemia, that may not be but we'll never know). I guess it seems like kind of a lot. But the good news is I'm alive. And honestly, I wasn't sure I would be at this point. Every year, especially early on, after the accidents were a struggle. And even once I was "better" and starting to move on, I still wasn't sure how much longer I'd be around. Thinking of that time or of her was suffocating and made me wanna die. Thinking of that time or of her now is...I don't know. Sometimes I get really happy when I remember a good time that we had, or even a stupid little argument. Other times I just get sad because I know there will never be anymore opportunities for good times or arguments. And as much as I've moved on and rebuilt my life, I'd still kill for having the option for either of those. Because at least she'd be alive and well.
I guess the overwhelming feeling I've had the past week is one of...sadness. Not because I'm still in mourning or anything but because it's like what a shame that she didn't get to live. But I've also thought about how that week (and the two after where I was unconscious) changed things so much more than I ever knew. And that's good and bad. I woke up a different person and with a different life than I'd had before. But I suppose everything is as it was always meant to be. The moment it was explained to me what had happened, after I woke up, I wanted to die. That feeling as subsided the past few years though. It may have taken a lot longer than it should've but I think I finally have a handle on that 'whole new appreciation for life' thing that people who've had near-death experiences talk about. I'm extremely lucky and grateful to be here. And hopefully the next decade is A LOT easier than this past one.
