When therapy opens wounds

I’ve made it no secret my relationship with my mom. My failure to be born male just snowballed into a life time of disappointment.

This afternoon we talked about various times in my life and how she acted. During this we talked about how she acted with my car crash.

Little background, 30 years ago a guy fell asleep at the wheel and hit me head on. Both my legs and my left arm were broken and my pelvis was fractured.

It took a few hours to cut me out of my car, get me to the local hospital, then I was life line flighted to a trauma center. After a bunch of x-rays, stomach pumping, mri and god knows what else I had 12 hours of surgery that I wasn’t expected to live through.

I understand that what I went through is every parent’s nightmare. You understand you haven’t met my mom.

Shall I tell the story from her point of view?

My daughter brought this on herself by gallivanting all over the place. I made sure I told her I always knew this was coming. It was important she knew this before they flew her to the other hospital.

You all can’t imagine what it was like for me. We were at the crash site and she has no idea what it was like for me to sit and look at all those emergency vehicles. Why I didn’t know if her car was going to blow up!

Then we had to follow the ambulance to the hospital and wait. Do you know how long we sat there?! We finally got to see her and all she could do was make an excuse that it wasn’t her fault. Baloney! I let her know I didn’t believe that!

Then her dad and I had to drive to the trauma center you have no idea what it was like watching that helicopter in the sky. Do you understand how that made me feel?

Then we had to wait another 16 hours to see her. I knew as soon as I saw her, her life was over. She was never walking again. No wedding. No one to love her. She was handicapped!

I still remember the first time she tried to walk. She was so excited, but she soon realized how right I was. She was handicapped. I still don’t know why she didn’t listen to me.

Eventually she wanted to go to rehab but I wanted her to go to a nursing home where she belonged. Why waste time and money, get her a good wheelchair and be done.

Since she was stubborn, she went to therapy. She’d get so excited to make progress, but I was always there to put her in her place. Stupid girl thinking standing was progress. Couldn’t she see she was handicapped!?

She was in the hospital over 3 months. Do you have any idea how much of an inconvenience that was? Unless the weather was bad, we were there every day. That was such a horrible time for me. Plus she kept wanting to come home. Why she’d cry watching others be released! Dummy!

Finally I relented and she came home. I had to do everything for her. Would you believe she was so stubborn and ungrateful? Always complaining she wanted to do things herself. She never cared once that I had to watch her struggle doing things like getting dressed. Even when I’d get mad and yell about what a stubborn brat she was, she insisted on doing things herself.

Eventually she moved out, but boy our lives were ruined forever. We never ever had any more joy in life because we had to take care of our handicapped daughter. No vacations. No more camping. Nothing! My life was all about her needs.

Even now if I can get someone to listen, I tell them about my poor, stubborn handicapped daughter and how she changed my life.

By the way, she’s fat too.