Entry 16

I used to think I could empathise. I used to think I knew. I used to think "I've had pain in my life, I can therefore relate". I used to try to be nonjudgemental. I used to do "My bit". I used to try to understand,
to walk a mile in the other's shoes. I used to think my prayers were heard. I thought my prayers were answered. I used to think I could help. I used to think I did some good. I knew I couldn't know how another person felt, but now I know it's impossible.

When I think back to how I saw people in wheelchairs, disabled people, people who have had their lives touched by some debilitating disease… I was such a fool. A self-righteous, assuming, selfish, narcissistic idiot who knew nothing. Nothing at all. I had grown up knowing mentally disabled and physically disabled people. I had worked for years with disabled people, those with both physical and mental challenges. Done voluntary work. Read books. Attended courses. Heard of other people's woes. Saw the adverts on TV begging to raise money that could cure, help, in any way improve the quality of life for whom they supported. I never gave. I had chosen my charities, I was doing my part already. You can't give to everyone.

There is a web which is spun that is as complicated as the nervous system and just as hard to navigate. The Web of Impact that stretches beyond what the eye can see, beyond what the ear can hear, beyond what the mind can understand, beyond what the heart can feel, beyond what the stomach can hold down. The web is spun in a continuous spiral with links, known and unknown starting from birth, and stretching out across the span of time. Each fine thread is so delicate, to be nurtured, to be admired and valued; its beauty, its strength, its radiance. Not to be wasted. The time spent creating it is the cost. The energy spent, the focus, the emotion invested. When Impact strikes the whole web is shook, no matter where the spider lays in wait, she will feel it nonetheless. There is no escaping the impact.

How could I possibly know? There is no way to know, unless you've been there yourself.

Unless it's you, your mother, your father, your lover, your best friend. You can't give to everyone and there are too many ways the human body can suffer. There are too many ways the human mind can shut down. Too many ways the human heart can give up. And the soul – what of the soul? Strong enough and the soul can be the driving force behind a complete restoration. But if it is weak, from pain and suffering and battles, another go on the merry-go-round and from sheer lack of willpower, the soul will quietly drift away. I was so arrogant. I looked my mother in the eyes and told her I was going to be perfectly fine, literally I said "nothing is going to happen!". It could never be me. So sure was I, so certain of the path that lay ahead of me. The direction my life was to take.

You never know what's round the next corner. I'd heard that line so many times that each new time I wanted to hit the person speaking. Of course, that was the context when people were trying to help me be patient; I wanted to fall in love and I'm still waiting. But you never know who's round the next corner…! If somebody had told me, had they warned me of the speeding minibus that would flip over three times around my next corner I wonder if I'd have given it any consideration at all. To be honest I think I would have still boarded my plane. I was that arrogant and held the assumption that I would be protected by a higher force. It could never happen to me.

And then the web springs into action. Letters of support, cards of condolence, visits with ice cream, and photographs, presents, piles of chocolate. I have no idea of the depth and breadth of pain my injury has caused to those people who are in my life. I had no idea simply of the depth and breadth of people who were in my life at all. Of the vast number who cared, even people I didn't know reached out to me. And I didn't deserve any of it. The suffering caused by my injury is beyond what I can imagine. I used to think I could empathise, I used to think I knew.

I now know that it was fruitless to bother thinking this way at all. I could not possibly comprehend what this hell is for another person; it is bad enough for myself. I sit at the centre of my web seeing how my injury has tested, shaken and torn my delicate threads apart. How life has rapidly unspun. Watching the actions and reactions, the vibes that come back at me, and the way the knocks keep coming. Any repairs are just patch jobs.

The web will never be like it was before. It is not just my body that is changed forever, nor just my life style, it is not just my heart that is broken and it is not just my life any more.