Yesterday, as the rain poured and dusk fell upon the quiet suburbs of the city, I biked home from work.
All I could think was:
“I almost died.”
Quickly followed by:
“But I am SO alive now.”
I loved that this response was automatic. It just followed naturally.
I felt it in my bones. My muscles. My being. For the first time, I felt empowered by how alive I am now. Beneath any fatigue, depression, anxiety, ill-feeling, I am still SO alive.
I sprinted and sprinted on my bike. I felt the pedals move fast, pushed to their maximum speed. I felt the wind blow my hair twenty different directions. I felt the adrenaline rush as I dodged the parked cars and watched the trees fly past. I felt like I was heading towards the finish line of the Tour De France. I could see my medal right there. I slowed slightly, realising I could not actually really see at all due to the raindrops coating my glasses. I made a mental note to buy more contact lenses.
The strange thing with PTSD is the delayed shock. I almost died. I began to a little bit, 6 months ago. It is only now I am realising how close I came. And how I not only stared it in the face, I became that face of death for a short while. Minutes you could count on your ten fingers. But I remember it well. Now I do anyhow. And it feels like it just happened yesterday.
And that seems to leave me thanking the universe I am still alive.
In the midst of whatever struggle and strife and longing for ease, I find myself in now, I must remember that gratitude that the attempt did not work. This is something so easily forgotten, but if I really think deep. And not even that deep in fact. I am eternally grateful and relieved my feet are still here to tell the tale.
Please know you are worth the fight. Please know that you are worth the energy to stay alive. There are people out there, there for you. There are people here, here for you. And there is a bucket load of hope, no matter how washed away it can feel. It is still always there, and will always be. It just sometimes can feel far from the grip of your fingertips.
Tonnes of love.