I decide to go home for the weekend. I don't have much else to do, and I have a lull in my schedule before everything kicks off, and I quite fancy a bit of my Mum's Sunday Roast. There is something about your mother's Sunday Roast - nobody else's mother quite gets it right, but somehow, your own mum makes Delia Smith pale in comparison.
I leave the M5 and head off down towards Glastonbury. I've been travelling for six hours now - it's dark, and I'm cold and tired. And then I get stuck. Stuck behind the largest tractor in the world and it's trailor. It isn't a typically slow tractor, but it stands on the way between me and the warmth of my mothers house. I put my foot down and move out to over take.
Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light and I wake up in a pool of sweat.
It was my first flashback, and I doubt it'll be my last.
At this point I feel incredibly homesick. I never thought the accident had affected me that much. Physically, I have almost completely recovered. I have lots of scarring over my body which at the moment look fierce but will fade in time. I never would have believed that I would be mentally troubled by bad dreams and flashbacks.
There is not a day that goes by, however, when I don't think about how I cheated death. I know how lucky I am.
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2 comments:
It is completely normal to feel like this. You had something really awful happen to you.
But over time these feelings, like your scars, will fade.
You must get out there and enjoy your life.
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