Thanks for mentioning. That kind of thing can wear hard on me. Shit happens. I could write a long list of all the junk that happened and all of my broken stuff, but at a certain point, one has to ask how they want to be defined themselves, and what it means to be a victim when the results of an event are never able to leave one’s immediate consciousness. This is my pain. As I type this message, my inner voice is yelling over the constant annoying sound of a horn blowing in a figurative ear on my back. Nothing makes that pain go away. Meds just make me care less about yelling over it or the things I might be otherwise doing.

This is what it really means to barely survive. Injuries are ultimately easy. There is an enormous spectrum of what it means to survive and recover. It isn’t some binary of did or didn’t, or a trinary with paralysis. To really be close to that measure of “barely” and to stabilize at a point that is not much higher than “barely” THAT is what is remarkably hard. It is impossible to really relate this in words without a person experiencing it. One must mentally rebirth one’s self from scratch with new expectations, interests, relationships, and worst of all dependencies on others, while dealing with isolation and really the death of one’s self. That is truly hard.