imaguses

I’ve been silent for long. Silent and hidden in my perfect bubble home.
Since 4 weeks ago, after a serious bike accident and a deep injury in my knee, I’m enjoying the art of nothing and resting for good.
It was in the previous weeks to the bike accident that my life was jumping from one foot to the other. Although the feeling inside was kind of fine – always in a hurry, no time to think things over, freak control over kids, house, work and myself. Let’s face it, I’m a control freak. And as such, I tend to overthink and stress for little things, like toys on the floor, dinner ready on time, etc.


The afternoon I was riding on my bike I was having such a hurry I couldn’t help but to speed on the empty bike path. A friend was staying over for a couple of days and we didn’t have anything to eat in the fridge. I worked that day, was already a bit tired, having a cold. And to make things worse, I had a planned date that night. But wasn’t feeling like it, felt like there was too much on my plate. Nevertheless, I arrived home, made a short groceries list and rode my bike to the supermarket.
While I was riding I immediately saw two kids riding wave boards (a sort of skateboard which waves). They were not looking up, just busy with their waving in the middle of the bike path. As a cyclist I must say I’m always speeding and made mine the Dutch way of biking: I’m the queen of the road, no matter the rules..
Back to the bike path. I was speeding, kids weren’t looking and the first thought I had was: this is my bike path! So, before it was too late, I shouted them ‘Watch out’ but it was indeed too late. The moment they pulled their heads to look at me we were already crashing into each other. I was too late to turn the handlebars of my bike (which it’s too heavy since I have a front carrier). The impact was huge. Luckily they were just fine, but I was lying on the ground, completed bruised and in pain. I fell on my right knee; I had blood and a hole in my jeans. I couldn’t stand up. I was crying, more from frustration that solely because of the pain. A guy appeared from nowhere and helped me to stand up, the kids were worried, they really didn’t see me or heard me, and I was mad, really mad.
It was the second bike accident I had in less than one year. The fact that I couldn’t stand up nor walk, made me feel intense frustrated and powerless. A horrible thing for a control freak.
I was sitting on the borderline of a plant pot, trying to stretch my leg without success; kids and the guy were talking about calling the doctor or taking me back home. And all I could think at that moment was that I was hungry and we didn’t have any food. So, I put all my effort and rest of power to stand up, step on my bike and continued riding until I’ve arrived to the supermarket. It wasn’t far, but my leg wasn’t responding much. It was a real effort to walk into the supermarket, dragging my leg and walking with tiny little baby steps.
Normally I’m a fast walker, a speed runner you can say. It’s been only when I was pregnant from my first child that I couldn’t walk fast as normal.
I’m always on the run, running into emptiness in search of my true self, like this blog started.
After the supermarket, rode back home, tears running down my cheeks, I was completely out because of the pain, my leg resisted to move further, and all I could do was sitting on a chair, completely in despair, pain moving all over my leg. Took my jeans, and my knee was looking like a transformer, so huge swollen, pain tickling all over me. I cleaned the blood and put some leggings on. Took a tablecloth with ice cubes and leaned forward to take care of myself.
My friend was helping me, but I felt really bad for her but mostly for me to be depending on somebody. I always been a self-sufficient person, I don’t like to rely on people because I think I know better myself.
Reality was harsh. I was dependant on my friend, feeling pissed and mad at myself. Didn’t want to be taken care, hanging on people for the solely need of going to the bathroom.
I spend that night sleeping on the couch. It was impossible for me to move or even to walk a little bit. Every time I needed to go to the bathroom had to call my friend. Made me feel so uncompleted, so lonely in the world.
Later on the week, I could start moving little by little. First baby steps with clutches; later walking was going better to the point of today, still in pain but much more independent.
In these weeks I had the real opportunity to look inside myself, my needs, my wishes, my values and traits, my imperfections, my ideas of myself and the world.
This accident was a disgrace with fortune (desgracia con suerte in Spanish). I’ve realized how bad I was doing towards myself and other people. I was living in an automatic pilot, running from A to B and back to C, non-stop.
At home wasn’t getting better, a mom who is always stressed, irritated and can’t have enough relax is a pain in the ass. I was a pain in the ass. And I thought that was kind of normal. There were days I was rushing so much, that my head was spinning round and round, my heart was beating harder and didn’t have much air to swallow. Panic attacks have been part of my life a lot. This was another moment of falling into deep.
Is now after 4 weeks that I realize how bad I was doing. How poor my self-well-being was and how strong was my need for nurturing. By forced stop and rest I’ve realized how tired I was. How hard my mind was working, going round and round without getting things done, just spinning without a goal.
It has been also the mourning process I needed to face. Since I’m living on my own as a single mom with two kids, I didn’t have the time or the internal need to confront the situation the way it was. I was just skipping that step, unconsciously, just rushing for the next good thing. I didn’t open my heart and took that look inside. I wanted so bad to escape into the future. I was broken, broken hearted, burning in my own pain and sadness and restless.
The fact that I wanted to break up didn’t mean I was having it all made and easy. It was hard, really hard but I couldn’t just admit it. I was feeling lonely, grieving and feeling so much shame for being in this situation. As a single mom, surviving with welfare and running into emptiness with every step I took.
That time was necessary for my healing process. My knee is doing much better; my heart and soul are beginning to heal too. It’s a process, and as such, needs lots of patience, time and nurturing.
And you know what? I’m glad I’ve found out who I really am. This is the person whom I am, with my bright and dark sides. Because that’s life you know, the fragile balance of light and darkness.
Embracing your shadow is part of growing up and healing all that is hidden in yourself.
We tend to hide and fake, the ugly side of us is also who we are.

Welcome to the dark side, accept it and heal it. But don’t stay too long in it. Life is much brighter when you come out of the dark.

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