Monday, 6 February 2017

Words I wish I could say...

Where do I start... Basically with this post, I am sat here feeling angry about something that I know I should have got over a long time ago, but there's part of me that just cannot seem to let go, so I figured writing about it might help a little. 

Essentially, back in November I was involved in a car crash where my car flipped into the fast lane of a dual carriageway because the other driver pulled out of a lay-by at nothing more than 10mph right in front of my car, which was going at about 70mph. Let's just say having about 5 meters to brake doesn't do much to your speed by that point. There's no point going into details but I just cannot comprehend it, and I honestly understand how lucky I am to be alive or at the least to still have both arms, but it still annoys me- and I think that's okay, it's a natural reaction. 

I have so many questions that I wish I could ask the man who left me, my mum and my sister in an overturned vehicle whilst he smoked a fag. So here is the letter I would write to him if I could, and perhaps it might finally help me to let go. 

"Dear XYZ, 

I hope that fag was worth it, because the first thing I saw when I was pulled from my car was you giving me a dirty look, fag in hand. You didn't even check that we were alive or okay, it took a woman on the other side of the dual carriageway to run over and a very kind family to come and reassure us and as much as I will never ever forget you and what you did, I will never forget seeing those kind faces knock on the windscreen and helping to pull us out and they're the only ones that should matter.

I hope you never have to hear the screams of those you love so deeply as they almost depend on you as the driver to control the impossible, I hope you never have to tell your sons or equivalent that everything will be okay when you have no bloody clue whether you're going to survive or not because it's the most scary feeling in the entire world, something I never ever want to relive. I will never forget zoning back in to the sound of my blood dripping onto the road and the eery silence except for my music playing from the radio. 

Shock is a funny thing, the first thing I requested was my work badge because at this point I was convinced I could go straight back to work, I also did not even consider the possibility that my car was a write off, even though there were pieces strewn across the road and no windows or wheels left in tact, my poor baby was still easily fixable in my head and  I was genuinely heart broken when it was taken away and declared scrap, as I had only had my first car for 8 months.

As much as you may think it wasn't that bad, I am still suffering both mentally and physically from your split second decision, which I understand was a mistake. But how on earth did you misjudge the situation so badly, how did you not care about the other people in the car because the first thing I thought after checking my family were alive was 'are they okay', yet you didn't seem to give a shit, other than the fact I'd 'ruined' your day. One of the things that haunted me for days was how close I was to hitting the door where your young child sat, I know they were fine and I know it didn't happen but the 'what ifs' have been the most torturous.

I also hope you understand that while you went off on your day, I spent the entire day in hospital having 8-9 injections inside my wound to remove pieces of windscreen from my arm, vomiting from the unbearable pain and shock. I understand that it could have been so much worse, but even so this situation never should have happened in the first place. So please next time, put your entire concentration into the road before making a decision to pull out in front of a stream of traffic. 

I am trying my bloody hardest to move on and I don't think I will ever understand the events that occurred when our paths crossed, and perhaps part of the problem is that I am desperately trying to understand. I never realised how long dealing with insurance companies and healing of wounds takes, I thought two and a half months later it would have all been sorted out, but no. I am still having to deal with various car related crap and put up with pains through my injury. I don't think I would be so angry if you had just said acted like you were sorry or at the very least came over to check that we were alive. 

Ella. 

No comments:

Post a Comment