Out Cold, Excerpt from Life Honestly After

Out Cold…

I felt well rested, and I was able to sit, stand, and even walk down the stairs on my own. I could still remember quite vividly crawling to the restroom. I was attending some rehabilitation classes at the hospital, but It hurt to walk for long periods of time. Standing in itself was a task.

I looked forward to a day where I could leave my dungeon and visit the other residents. I felt like a caged bird who had overgrown it’s cage and began to suffocate. I was desperate. If I didn’t get out soon I was sure to die of separation anxiety. I wanted to separate myself from my room, personal pharmacy, and barf basket.

Finally, gathering the strength to climb from bed, I juiced my curls and tied a colorful bandana around them. I slid on a fresh tee, some sweats, and of course a thick pair of socks and headed for the bedroom door. I felt a sense of liberation already. I was taking charge of my life.

I made it victoriously to the door and opened it with ease. I hit the corner as if I hadn’t just learned to walk again and stepped to the edge of the stairs fearlessly.

I was confident and ready to embark on life. I took my journey down the hall and headed for the staircase. I was excited. It was as if I were taking my first steps. Boldly I tapped my foot upon the first step going downward. I never felt the carpeted stair hit my feet. I was airborne like a bird taking its first flight.

I was on the floor before I had realized I had fallen. Down for the count in mere moments. I woke hours later in my floral print spread and amongst fluffy pillows. My head was hurting, but my heart and self esteem hurt worse. I was out cold. Afraid to try again because I had failed so miserably at what seemed such a simple task, I slipped into a coma of depression. Will I ever be able to get out of bed again? Will I courageously prevail in this life after moment?