Silently Whispered Words

A friend made a comment on my blog recently that literally brought tears to my eyes.

This isn’t easily accomplished, and even more unlikely to be admitted. The funny thing is, the tears weren’t caused by the actual words she typed, but from the ones she didn’t type. As the tears overwhelmed my eyes, streaked down my face, and fell upon my laptop all the words I left unspoken screamed in a cloud viciously circling around me.

But I share everything with you guys, what could I possibly have left unspoken?

Plenty. Though none intentionally, I assure you. I simply was too busy dismissing the words to allow them to cascade through my soul and fall out of my fingertips upon the page… yet here they fall, like heavy raindrops, from my eyes.

I felt like I was reacting over-dramatically. I felt like everyone was sick of hearing about it already. I felt like I appeared like I was just dragging out old news for attention. I felt like I would be “less than” if I dared to reveal any more.

But there was more. Plenty more.

This single comment, a few simple unspoken words, embraced my heart with a deeply needed “I understand what you haven’t been telling us.” And I cried. The tears streamed down my face so quickly that I was at risk of dehydration.

I am strong and positive and grateful and forgiving… not only because this is the desired reaction from others, but that these are the traits I strive to continually display. And display them I have, but that doesn’t mean that other reactions weren’t occurring as well, despite my attempts at dismissing them.

I am bitter and angry. I am hurt and sad. I am worried and stressed…. I am human.

I sit and I look outside my large living room slider at my beautifully landscaped lawn and I am filled with gratitude for the amazing home we are blessed to live in. I share these positive reactions with you.

What I don’t share though is that I haven’t had a paycheck in two weeks. That there’s no telling when the insurance money to cover those missed paychecks will ever come through. That I was fired yesterday as a direct result of this missed time. That I have no fucking idea how in the world I am going to make this months house payment. That I stare out that window at our beautiful lawn and the only thing racing through my head is the overwhelming fear that we will lose it all. And, that all of that doesn’t even begin to describe my financial stress. We’re nearly out of dish soap, laundry soap, toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, and so on. That my children’s birthdays are less than a month away. That school shopping is immediately after that. That despite not having any money coming in the electric company still wants paid, as does the phone company, internet, gas, and so on.

I get back in a car. I get back behind the wheel of my big ol’ suburban and drive. I buckle my children in to the car. I share with you the pride in these accomplishments.

What I don’t share though is that I watched every movement the driver and every other vehicle on the road made with trepidation in my heart the entire ride. That I have yet to drive around a curve/turn a corner without being thrown back into the rollover, unless I slow down to a turtles speed. That the fastest I’ve made it to was 50 mph, which lasted about 3 seconds before I dropped back down to 40 and 45. That before all of this I was that crazy asshole that passed you doing 70 on a back road. (Though I was smart enough to only pass when it was absolutely safe too, that I was paying excellent attention to the road, and that I confidently knew my brakes worked well. Which many of those assholes don’t do.)  That I’m not just obsessively scared to allow my children into a car, but I am fearful of EVERYTHING. Frantic when they go within 20 yards of the road in front of our home. Frantic when they get too close to the bonfire. Frantic when they swing their marshmallow stick, with an uncooked marshmallow, too close to their brothers face.

I am confident that God was with us in that SUV. I am fully aware of how little I truly lost that day. I acknowledge that not having our kids with us and walking away from that accident was nothing short of a miracle. I share this life altering information with you.

What I don’t share though is that the loses are mounting and I am scared to find out how much longer this accident will impact our lives.

I don’t share that I actually MISS my SUV. I loved that damn truck. I think about it’s clean black leather seats. It’s third row seating. It’s glistening dash board. That I have wanted an SUV like this SUV for as long as I’ve been able to drive. That I purchased it ONLY four months ago. That I’ve put a total of 1900 dollars into it in that four months, including over a hundred dollars less than 48 hours before the accident.

I tell you that it was just a truck, I could have lost much worse, and I FULLY believe that. But, it doesn’t take away that it was MY truck, and I miss it.

I have striven to focus on the positive. I have pushed to fight through these fears. I am strong and positive and grateful and forgiving. I make every possible effort to not let my fears become my children’s. But… that doesn’t mean that the negative doesn’t exist.

What I haven’t told you, is that this shit truly traumatized me.

I haven’t told you that I feel like admitting it, even to myself, makes me over dramatic, attention seeking, “less than.” That my husband and my mother in law don’t seem nearly as phased as I am and I wonder if it’s because I was driving, or because I’m just am a weaker person than they. I wonder if something is wrong with me because the accident affected me on such a lasting level. I feel like everyone thinks I should just get over it already and move on. I feel like I should just get over it already and move on. I feel like everyone is thinking I’m being ridiculous, there’s been people who have lost their children in car accidents and here I am crying over an accident that my children were not even in. I feel like I’m being ridiculous.

Mostly though, I feel like no body really understands. That I’m all alone.

Then along came the silently whispered words, “I understand what you haven’t been telling us” embracing the breaking heart I thought was hidden so well.

Suddenly, I realized, that I might not be so alone after all.

I know that I will be okay. I know that in many ways I am okay. And now, I know that sometimes it’s okay to not be okay too.

This accident will be remembered as an event that made me stronger, but… that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t first, weak.

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Categories: 2016

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

3 replies

  1. I think it is affecting you this way because you are a very, very good person who is sensitive. This was a very evil event, and it hurt you, Avery good person. It’s okay to cry. You can sign up for unemployment compensation now – it’s okay, it’s your right. I have done that before. Also, there are good places who, in their love, would feel blessed to help you with emergency assistance (funds) if you need it. In my Church, when we are injured emotionally or spiritually, we go into the Presence of the Lord – sit at His feet and pray for love and healing; it comes.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, it’s comforting hearing that I’m not crazy and having some rationalization behind my reactions. Now that i’ve begun to acknowledge that we’re actually verging on drowning I spent some time today researching the laws and my rights and reached out to a highly recommended personal injury attorney to guide me through the legal and insurance stuff. I plan on looking into area resources next (thanks for some tips on where to get started!)

      Liked by 1 person

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