The Journey May Take A Touch Longer
Rehab highway may be up to another 12 weeks, according to a top practitioner. I keep trying to make light of some significant league injuries, but many more experienced people than I keep advising me not to make light. To focus on rest and recovery. To accept that I have suffered serious trauma.
My medical advisor told me yesterday that work is always needed on the mental aspects of recovery. He’s the third person to mention this in three days. I’m sure there will be ups and downs during recovery. I have watched my crash several times and feel unaffected, but I’m told that aspects of the trauma may surface and require attention.
Last evening I came home from treatment and was very down. I couldn’t understand why, but hell, I was down—an accumulation of minor frustrations over two days and a simple case of me being in pain.
Tipping Into Tears
Later I received a voice message from someone in the broader community. I don’t know her well. I have enjoyed meeting her two or three times, and I know she is well-liked. Her comments about my character, how I affect people, and my generous spirit broke me. It is no humble brag to say I had no sense people thought that of me. My self-loathing has convinced me that no one will attend my funeral. I grew up not used to affection, which became my operating assumption into adult life, to the point I had, until recently, well-developed mechanisms for avoiding affection or even simple compliments. However, I can get obsessed by the tiny number of people who attack me. While ignoring any positive feedback.
The prevailing downer I was experiencing, followed by the whiplash to incredibly kind feedback, was a tipping point, and I was in tears—big old tears with the vibrating bottom lip thrown in as an optional extra.
A Diary Of My Reflections
Rehab highway is something I’m going to develop over the coming weeks and months—the journey of my rehab, a diary of my reflections. I’m learning a lot about myself, and I’m learning a lot about others.
Now I do not want to be a ‘poor me’ professional victim who wallows in his misfortune. No sir, I will not become some condition of the movement, virtue signalling, humble brag type. It will be a quiet series of reflections. One purpose of this short post is to say I won’t be slinging an Instagram post whenever a cloud crosses the sun. If you’re interested, check in on my Rehab Diaries page every so often.
We Are Rarely Alone
I’ve had some powerful feedback on my story to date, and I thank everyone who has blessed me with their comments. Some things have resonated with many readers; shared experiences and reflections. It’s why I say that we are never alone. Our experiences are rarely unique. Someone out there will listen and reach out a hand to you.