Back to "normal"

I haven’t spoken about Pain in a while. It doesn’t fit in that well on these pages these days so I have tried to avoid it. Instead, I’ve spent the last few months attempting to rebuild my life – to be “normal” again.

I am back at work, against some Doctors orders. I am trying to exercise. I am looking after myself, eating healthily, seeing friends…doing everything the old me would have done.

I have developed a way of talking about the accident like it happened to someone else. I do not cry. I do not acknowledge any pain. I can recite the facts in minuscule detail without showing emotion.

But inside, I am drained.

Everything hurts.

Every movement is a struggle, each action followed by a degree of pain.

A constant reminder of how everything has changed.

I am not the same person I used to be.  I don’t even look the same. My back is so curved that I sit hunched or suffer horrendous pain. One shoulder sits two inches lower than the other, due to muscle damage and extensive surgery. I have scars and I have gained dress sizes and sometimes I feel like I am spinning out of control because I cannot fix it. I have tried medication, stretches, strengthening, toning, dieting, holistic therapies and just good old fashioned hugs. Nothing works.

Sometimes, I forget for a second and my mind convinces itself I’m still that long-distance running, competition swimming, size eight version of me that I was back then. And then I look in the mirror and am reminded of everything that has happened. After all the battles that I’ve fought, this one is one of the hardest to come to terms with.

I can handle the fact I lost my job, my home, a large proportion of friends and my income due to that hit and run. Thanks to years of trauma therapy with the most amazing woman in the world, I have come to terms with those losses, have (unbelievably) felt strong enough to return to work and have regained the confidence to make fabulous new friends.

But everytime I look in the mirror, I am reminded of what has changed. My face may be the same, and to strangers I may look fine, but I know where my body was torn to pieces. I can see the point of impact. I cannot see anything other than the way I have changed since that crash.

I have had certain parts of me reconstructed. I am part human, part DIY project. And now, I’m considering other options to get me back to  where I was in 2004 – before this nightmare began.

I am looking into non-surgical treatment options, investigating surgery (despite huge opposition on Twitter) and weighing up the pro’s and cons of living with it, or doing something about it. There are so many options, so many ideas, so many possible solutions. I am not stupid nor impulsive. I am not vain or self-obsessed.

I just want to look like me again.

Is that so wrong?