Sorg-molisaiz

Finally the pain was manageable and I had time to reflect and think about what had really happened – how serious and close I had been to dying. I had been only a few metres from dying….if it had not been for the concrete pillar standing in the middle of the central reservation I would never had survived.

The memories of the dreadful drive on the highway started to haunt me, flashing through my mind – the thoughts, the panic, the fear, the intense pain, the sounds, the smells….It was like a broken record – a song on replay – it was played over and over and over again….wouldn’t stop…it even haunted me in my dreams…

 

“Everyone I was in contact with reminded me constantly about how happy I had to be to survive the accident”

 

 Everyone I was in contact with – nurses, doctors, family and friends – reminded me constantly about how lucky I was to have survived the accident and how happy that must make me. In it all I was able to see and understand how incredibly lucky I were surviving the accident and apparently without any permanent damage. I only had some cuts on one thigh and on the palm of my hands, three broken ribs, punctured lung and internal bleedings, which they’d manage to stop during the surgery.  

All my injuries which were no longer serious, would heal themselves, disappear and not give me any permanent damage according to the doctors…

 

“So why was I more concerned about how terrifying it had been to face death than feel happy about surviving?”

But…I didn’t feel happy…just very sad and sorry…I continually cried…felt so small, insignificant and I had so many thoughts and questions. Why me? Why did I feel such guilt for losing control over the car? Why did I feel so naked and vulnerable? Why was I more concerned about how terrifying it had been to face death than feel happy about surviving? Why did I feel so extremely alone despite the enormous support I got from family and friends…Why couldn’t I just be happy?