Broken back anniversary

Yesterday was the one year anniversary since I fractured a part of my spine volleying myself about in a trampoline park! I am that cautionary tale.

So to celebrate, I thought I’d write about how I broke my body and maybe post some bonus pics below, get wild, who knows.

For some back story (ha ha), the night before I had been at the pub and I was out with a few friends. I have an old friend that I love very much who was there.

They are kind, fun, endearing, adventurous, charming, beautiful, sweet, caring, bohemian, level-headed and everything I could never genetically and temperamentally hope to be. 

I think about them every time I hear the song ‘Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel’, mostly because they are an angel, but also because of that scene in Charlies Angels where that song is playing as Cameron Diaz performs a dance routine, in amongst a pile of balloons she has just tripped over. They are a living version of that moment.  

We’re often separated by geographical situations, like jobs and school. And it’s hard to share news long distance. Who the hell wants to deliver news that will change everything over the phone? 

That’s the thing about bad news too, you think when you have some that it’ll fall out of your mouth with ease, that you’ll run to the people you love most to tell them, and they’ll know just what to say and they’ll hold you. But I don’t think it’s like that in reality.

I think you put it off and savour the last moments before they knew. I think nobody wants that responsibility, and nobody accurately imagines how heavy and sloppy it feels. Like you’re going to tip over at any moment and be lost all over the floor. 

I only know this because after they told me, I didn’t want to tell anybody else. I wanted to tell our mutual friends so they could be there, but I didn’t feel like this was mine to share. Even after I knew it had been too long and I should tell somebody, I would find excuses not to. 

I would tell myself that it wasn’t the right time because it’s been a good night and I don’t want to ruin it. On a different day I’d tell myself it’s a bad day and I don’t want to make it worse.

If a relevant subject came up, I’d gear myself up and open my mouth, but the bad news would get stuck in my throat and I would swallow it till next time. 

Anyway they came out this night and we sat in the beer garden around the back in complete darkness, hidden from prying eyes, and we really cried about it. 

The next day I woke up and I wanted to be ten again. I wanted to be back in that street, kicking footballs, running through sprinklers, teaching the dogs tricks, riding our bikes to the chippy, finding porno’s in the bushes and spilling pancake syrup on the trampoline.  

I wanted to feel young and incapable of responsibility and change. I didn’t exactly go out as a twenty three year old in search of a trampoline with pancake syrup but I may as well have. 

(I don’t think I’m going to have time to get in to the accident, so I’ll write about it on Tuesday but back to the beer garden, because I actually have some advice I just remembered from this friend that someone else might find useful) 

Another thing about bad news, people feel this weird pressure to say something that is the perfect amount of comforting and constructive. This is such a fantasy, sometimes there is really nothing you can say. 

I confessed this to my friend, and they told me I shouldn’t be so afraid to say the wrong thing that I end up saying nothing. They told me the worst thing a person can say to another person is nothing. 

I had thought don’t bring it up unless they do was a solid rationale. I thought it would be cruel to bring up something they’d maybe rather not think about, but it’s more cruel to pretend it isn’t happening.  

I’m always trying to be aware and accommodating of the people around me and how I think they feel, but that’s probably just me being controlling and ineffective as a person. I can’t have a real human experience with someone else if I’m constantly re-assessing where the line in the sand is, what’s okay to say and what’s not.

You can’t be there for someone the way they want you to be if you’re too busy editing yourself. Sometimes I feel tempted to hide behind a Hallmark card saying or a Google web-page or some lines from a movie, but if a person wants those things they know where to find them. 

Very off topic, back to trampolines next time.

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