Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?
Two months into my senior year of high school my mother, father, and I were in our dodge caravan traveling east to visit some colleges I was looking at. My father was driving, mother was in the back passenger seat sleeping (more leg room), and I was in the front passenger. 30 minutes away from our destination we hydroplaned and spun out into the adjacent lane. An oncoming SUV struck us passenger side at 60 mph. i was knocked unconcious but awakened moments later still trapped inside the vehicle. I saw my father bleeding, and felt the cool rain on my face, and struggled to move my limbs. I remember everything. I remember the blood, i remember the pain, and the wonder. Were my parents going to die? No! This couldn't possibly be happening to me. Nothing extremely unfortunate ever happens to me.
Hours later, when i awoke in the hospital, i asked the nurses repeatedly, where are my parents? Are they o.k.? The nurse responded, "according to the report there were only 2 of you. Your father and you." This prompted me to think my mother might have been taken to another hospital. (there are several in the area) So reflexively i inquired, "how is my dad?" The nurse told me that he wasn't doing well, that he was in critical condition. NOBODY WOULD TELL ME ANYTHING! the nurses, the doctors, they all waded about in awkwardness. Finally they wheeled me up to see my dad. He looked dreadful. He wasn't even lucid when he said, "mom's dead." Before I even had a chance to hear the words the doctor had knocked him out. So there I was, not even 18, and motherless. She was stolen from me. I can't breath a breath without thinking that my mother gave me this life. I can't look at a mother and daughter together without feeling remorse, and worst of all, i haven't felt anything but sorrow in the 407 days since.
depression. For the first month or so i was in a state of shock. Everyday i came home from school i thought my mother would come rescue me from the pain i felt in my heart. She would be there waiting at the door for me like she always has in the past. The months after that it started to sink in bit by bit each day, that I would never get to see her again. There was this obsession...with her hands.. I miss the feeling of her hands. They were nurse's hands. Strong, weathered, yet kind hands that picked me up every time i fell and held me tight when i felt alone. In replace of her, i was on prosac and trazodone. I saw a MD, chiropractor, psychologist, and dietitian every other day for 4 months. I was anorexic, depressed, and broken. 5'6 and 105lbs.
now. I feel this profound loss in every step i take. Nothing has changed except for my weight. I am back to normal after months and months of people watching me eat. I am at college, 4 hours away from home and at an all woman's school. I SEE MY MOTHER EVERYWHERE! She walks around the corner, she sits in the cafeteria, and she is always a step beyond me. I can't sleep, i can't concentrate, and i just want my heart to not feel so bad.