Why I Never Play Football

I don't consider myself a cathartic person. However, the reality is, outwardly, I am cathartic, but inwardly I refuse to let myself fall apart. I compartmentalize, I handle, and I suck it up and get on with it. Nevertheless, it would not be fair to share this blog and fail to share important personal experiences.

I remember in high school that I had a boyfriend that I was crazy about. He was my first true love. We were together for little over a year, and I absolutely fell apart when he decided he did not want to be with me anymore. I remember absolute devastation. I was so distraught over how it ended, many crazy things happened. A neighbor (whom I am still friends with to this day) and another dear friend of mine witnessed my ex attempt to attack me at my home one evening. After that, I completely lost it. We couldn't be around each other in school, our friends had to choose sides (I got the short end of the stick), my mother tried to hospitalize me, I made up crazy lies and told them to everyone, and I remember out of spite dating someone my ex had accused me of flirting with and trying to cheat with; it went on. I really lost my mind over the emotional and verbal abuse I endured at his hands. It took me months to repair the damage he did to me. Many people never truly knew what our relationship was like, but it was traumatizing. (But to be fair, I did my share of damages.)

I ended up running away from home many times. Partially because of the relationship drama, and partially because my home life at the time was hostile. I lived temporarily with an aunt and uncle who I always babysat for; I lived with friends, and eventually the person I dated in my bout of spite. Just before the school year ended, the band had a barbecue at a local park. It was tradition, and graduating seniors got to do silly stuff. So, I drove my new boyfriend to the picnic where my old boyfriend and his new girlfriend (who I might add did not like me in the least) dominated the scene. We decided at some point that afternoon that we were going to play touch football. It was decided that the girls would be VS. the guys. After the first few touchdowns, we girls decided to try to play smarter. We coordinated in a huddle and decided that each girl would pick a person, and break the rules and tackle him. We all picked a guy and broke the huddle. One of the other girls forgot who her tackle was, and we ended up running to and jumping on the same guy. My tactic was to go for his hips - I was a powerful little stick and I believed I could take him. The other girl decided to jump right on his torso as he was running forward and he lost his balance. They both fell, I came down hard on my hands, and the girl landed on my head.

My neck snapped 3 times and I blacked out.

I remember coming to and there was laughing. The people I had thought were my friends had believed I was faking, my ex being the ringleader saying to leave me there, that I was faking. They took his word for it and went off to have lunch. I don't care if these people read this either, I think what they did was rotten.

The guy and girl both stayed there with me. They asked me questions like what did I feel like. I remember feeling extremely funny. Numb. I stated that I heard my neck snap exactly 3 times - that detail I will ever forget. Then, I said I couldn't feel the left side of my body. Instead of calling 911, my boyfriend at the time called his dad and had him come pick us up. I couldn't really move well. I was dizzy, nauseated, and I felt extremely detached from myself. I remember waiting for our ride, and my ex berating me, saying I was definitely faking and that I just wanted attention. I sat there and swallowed all the hate they threw until the car pulled up to the park.

They laid me on the back seat and drove me to the hospital. At the hospital, I waited, laying on the backseat unable to move. Paramedics came barreling out of the hospital yelling about moving me and not dialing 911. They brought one of those plastic rescue boards out, and attempted to slide it under me. It didn't work so well, but they managed to have slide and pull me onto their board. The strapped me to it in a medieval fashion with this huge contraption over my head. My parents who I was estranged from at the time were called by the hospital and they were asked to come down and be with me. They did many tests, x-rays, needle poking, and morphine. I was there around 12 hours before they sent me home.

From this moment on, catharsis became a dying art. I learned to be stronger. No more catharsis.

It was not until years later when Dr. P in Germany asked if I had had any prior trauma. Some medical doctors theorize that Kienbock's disease might be attributed to accidents such as falling on your hands or arms. True, I did have a pre-condition with a radius that grew too long, but the health of my hand and arm rapidly deteriorated after this accident back 12, almost 13 years ago now. I need to let go of this and stop being angry about it, but it's difficult. Doctors thought I may have broken my neck and had completely disregarded any other possible trauma having occurred to my body. It is hard to think about it to this day - considering I am hurt by many things that had occurred at this time in my life. The use of your hand is more important than spoiled friendships, ruined loves, severe depression, and humiliation. I keep trying to convince myself of this - every day. Each day I feel like it is living with the enemy in my right arm/hand. It pales the comparison to trivial matters of heartache. Your heart can mend itself. Kienbock's disease destroys part of your body.