One year ago, I had a nasty accident, crashing on the concrete floor in the bedroom. On my back. Everything worked out just fine in the end, but for eight hours, in some deserted hospital hall, it wasn't sure if I had broken my neck. These have been the most horrible hours of my life so far. Seriously, being tied to a stretcher and being told not to move, by any means, did knock me of my feet. Badly. After four hours already, you would have found me crying like a baby, totally broken down and painfully helpless. This simply, has been traumatic and it has followed me for weeks and months afterwards. Hectic moves, stuff that was dropped behind me, ended more than ones in a little scream and a good dose of trembling.
One year after, this day greeted me with a lot of grey and even more rain. And though things are almost back to normal, today kind of uncovered weird emotions. To be reminded of this incident. I woke up with a certain kind of nervousness and over the last hours, actually couldn't decide if to feel relieved and festive, or if the memory of this "close to the edge" experience, is almost as scary as it was back then. I am still unsure and believe it's a good thing, the day is close to being over and I can go back to my routine by tomorrow morning. Well, maybe not quite. I just lit one of the sparklers, lying around the Fishbowl since New Year's Eve, and promised myself to not shut this memory down. As uncomfortable it makes me, I am still here and I do love this life. To an incredibly precious gift, that has been given to me. Twice.