I suppose it is true that discover who your real friends are when disaster strikes. I have realized how few, if any, true friends I have after this accident.
I am still not able to drive and although many of my so-called friends live less than 30 minutes away, they do not visit. Not only do they not visit, they don’t even call. On a very rare occasion that we do hang out, they seem annoyed when I talk about my recovery. I need to talk about it. I genuinely wish I had something else to talk about, but the last year and a half of my life have been nothing but surviving.
My family is frustrated with me because I am completely draining them financially, especially since I can’t “pull my weight” around the house doing chores. My mom is angry with me and would not talk to me for over a week because she found out that I was using medical marijuana. Even though I am an adult patient and it is 100% legal, she told me I could not have it in her house. To be totally honest, it was the one thing that I found to be enjoyable and brought me immense relief. Since stopping, I have been vomiting every morning and feel horribly sick all day from the pharmaceutical pain meds.
I don’t have much more fight left in me. For the past few days I have been imagining, wishing, dreaming about a bullet going through my skull to take away this excruciating pain in my back and the hollowness of my heart. I have completely lost myself since the accident, body and mind. I am not a person anymore, I am just a broken shell. Now, it seems I am only a drain on what few people I have around me. It has been a very, very long time since I have felt happiness. I have never felt so desperately alone or so completely empty.