4 Dear Diary....
Dear diary, oh God, I haven't done something like this since I was a little girl, it just sounds so silly coming from me now. It's amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye.
A couple of months back I was in peak physical condition, training to run a marathon, now I'd be lucky to hobble to the bathroom. How did this all happen? That's a good question, I can hardly remember myself.
The last thing I remember is visiting a friend's house for a Christmas party, and then waking up in the ICU barely being able to move. To my understanding, black ice was the culprit. I guess it was the airbag that saved my life, or what was left of it. So, here I am now.
The doctors recommended that I start writing things down. They say it will help me better keep my emotions in check and maybe even jog my memory. Jog my memory? Maybe I should choose my words a little more carefully.
Everyone always tells me how lucky I am to be alive, but you know what, that's bullshit. I'm supposed to tell the truth here, if only here. Anyone who thinks we're lucky just for existing is too stupid to understand that there are in fact worse things than dying.
I haven't slept well for fucking months now! The funny thing about tossing and turning is that you don't start to appreciate it until you can't do it anymore. And I keep hearing voices coming from upstairs. When I finally do get to sleep I am haunted by hellish nightmares of the accident.
It's the same horrifying images played on loop each time, my body being meshed and compressed along with the cold hard steel from the car, my body and it forming some kind of demented sandwich.
Every morning, I wake up and spend a good minute or so trying to force myself out of bed, eager to pour myself a cup of coffee and take on the day. The sight of my bed sores and the agonizing pain the comes with them snap me back to reality really quick.
Ok ok, enough negativity for today. I have to remember what the psychologist said, "Try your best to focus on the positive!" I hate to break it to you doc, but once you've been tun off the road going 70 miles an hour, the rose-tinted spectacles you've been wearing your entire life tend to turn to shit.
Here I am now, laying in a hospital bed set up in my family room. I can't even go upstairs in my own bed. And with the string of burglaries that's been going on lately, anyone could get in here in the middle of the night and I'd be completely helpless. My husband Jack, said he'll take care of it though and make sure nothing happens to me.
At the very least, I guess I do in fact have him, to be thankful for. I'll tell you what, if it wasn't for him, I don't know what I would have done. The poor thing was in the passenger seat that night. He had too much to drink that night and was riding shotgun.
I've seen pictures of what's left of the car and believe me when I tell you that that side took the brunt on it. The luck on my hubby though, other than some bumps and bruises he'll be back to his old self in no time! Even though he wasn't driving, I think he still feels a little guilty for what happened.
He has to work a lot, but he made sure to get me the most expensive caretaker he could find to watch over me when he cannot be there. She seems great, I'll give her that, but for the money I would think she would have a slightly better attendance record.
What was her name again? Alexa ------- something or other. My mind is drawing a blank right now. Although, the doctors won't admit it. I think this medicine is fucking with my head, it always has. But what can I do? I gotta take it. Asthma in a bedridden patient is a big no no.
The last thing I need is to catch pneumonia. Thank goodness for Jack and Alexa, they make sure that I never miss a dose. Well, I think that's enough for now. I'm kinda tired. Hopefully I wont need this hospital bed much longer. I miss going upstairs and sleeping next to jack. It's too bad this damn hospital bed was only built for one.
No, you know what, dear God, I wish I was dead! Why couldn't he just kill me and be done with it!? There's a lot of thing's I can put up with, but there is a limit to this nightmarish hell that I am willing to endure.
Did I ever tell you that I can't even wipe my own ass anymore? Nurse or no nurse, I don't care if you have a whole squad of caretakers on standby, words cannot even begin to describe how much that hurts your pride.
But wait, there's more! I had myself a little accident today. Alexa sat me up on the toilet today to do my business. Everything was going ok until the telephone started to ring. I don't know what possessed her to do this but she left me in there alone while she ran to go get it.
I wound up falling at a weird angle and banging my face against the sink. Now I look like I went fifteen rounds with Mike Tyson.
The three of us had a talk about it when Jack got home from work. It turns out she was under orders from him to make sure the phone got answered.
I guess he was expecting an important phone call. I'm glad to know Jack's job takes precedent over me, it's nice to know where I stand. Where I stand… look at me there a go again!
I talked to him about it after she left. He apologized profusely and promised that from now on, Alexa is to under no circumstances talk on the phone while I am in her care. That was all I got, an "I'm sorry", and an assurance that it wouldn't happen again.
My head was killing me and he didn't even offer to massage my neck or anything. He told me he would have his Amazon Echo to remind him to pick up some cream for my eye.
I don't think Jack realizes that I can still remember where he keeps his gun. He's lucky I cannot get up out of this bed for myself. This room could use some redecorating and I think my brains would be the perfect shade of red. I'm no gun expert, but I did in fact take a photography class in high school. The general idea is basically the same, you just point and shoot!
Dear Dia---- you know what? Forget it, that's too childish. Down to business. I'm sorry it has been so long since I've last written. I promised the doctor I'd try to maintain a more consistent schedule. It has all been for good reason though I assure you.
I'm sorry about my last post, I was in a very dark place, but I've had some good long sessions with my psychologist and after a swift medication change. I think I will be ok. Plus, where my future once seemed bleak and uncertain, I now have a glimmer of hope.
I've been working extra hard, both at physical therapy and back at home here with Alexa. I'm proud to report that some of my movement has started to come back. I am now able to hoist myself up in bed and sit up for a little bit.
The doctors were very pleased with me. They say If I keep this up I might even be able to walk again, granted, it would most likely be with a cane, and I wouldn't be running a marathon anything soon, but it would be so nice to be able to walk upstairs again, to get to sleep in my own bed again. Unfortunately, that's where the good news stops.
I wish Jack would've been more excited. He barely said two words on the ride home. He was too preoccupied with his damn phone. It must've taken us twenty extra minutes to get home. We hit every god damn red light on the way. If he wasn't checking a text, he was yelling into that stupid thing "Siri, do this!" "Siri, remind me about that."
Talk to me you son of a bitch! I might have banged my head a little in the accident, but I'm not an idiot. I am your wife. Let me help you! Take your eyes off the phone and talk to me!
At least tell me who you're texting, that'd be something to talk about. But no, he's been so secretive lately, and I can't stand it. Ever since the accident he's been this way, he says he loves me, but his heart just isn't in it.
At first I was grateful he got Alexa to help me out, but now I'm starting to think it was just more convenient for him to pay someone rather than deal with me himself. I don't know. I guess I'm done for now, I'm exhausted, those damn voices won't let up.
I haven't been sleeping well lately. Remember about the voices I was hearing? I feel like they're getting louder. I didn't get to sleep until around 5am this time. Jack keeps saying he doesn't hear anything. I don't know he can't. I swear they must be coming right from our room.
He keeps telling me that I'm just dreaming it, but I can tell the difference between dreams and reality. I am only having one dream and it's still the nightmare of the accident. These voices are all too real! One of these days, I'll be strong enough to get out of this bed, and I'm gonna confront them. I know that I am not crazy!
Alexa didn't show up today. According to Jack, she wasn't feeling well. So, it was just the two of us today. I must admit, today he did seem to be a bit more attentive than normal. We actually had a half way pleasant day.
Even though I was pretty tired, he actually managed to take my mind off it. He picked just like he did when he carried me though the door when we first bought the house, and he placed me into the passenger seat of his convertible. We had a pleasant drive in the country and for dinner he took me where we had our first date.
He apologized for being so tied up with work lately and presented me with a bottle perfume, both as a gift for doing so well with my therapy, and an apology. The bottle was partially empty but I didn't care.
This stuff isn't easy to find anymore. He said he got it at a garage sale. He knows how much I love the old fashioned stuff. At least he was thinking of me. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. I think that's enough for now. It's nice not being able to sleep from excitement. I Never thought I would feel this way again.
God damn it! Son of a Bitch! I can't believe it. Does he think I'm some kind of an idiot or something? I refuse to put up with this.
Alexa came back to work today. She smelled awfully familiar. I cannot believe that I didn't notice this before. That bitch was wearing perfume! The same kind that Jack claimed he found for me. I'll be he looked REALLY HARD alright.
I can't believe I didn't see it before! Alexa's absences, Jack's clandestine phone calls, him being constantly preoccupied. And those voices, I wasn't imagining them at all, and that bastard tried had me thinking maybe I really was was imagining it.
I am not going to stand for this…literally! If I wasn't determined to walk again before, I am for sure now. I'm not gonna let him make a fool out of me. He will pay for this!
I think this will be my last entry for a while. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long again. I had to take some time to myself. It's all been worth it though. Unfortunately for my husband, my dreams have been coming in nice and clear lately. I remember everything now!
That night of the accident, my husband was in the passenger seat… after he put himself there. One of us drank too much that night, and it was him. I was never the designated driver.
I've been training harder than I ever thought possible, both at therapy and here at home. I decided to put my sleepless nights to good use and get in some extra exercise. No one knows this, not Alexa, not my husband, nobody.
I can walk again. I've had to hide it from everyone. I'm not in tip top shape yet and my balance is very shaky and I'm not the fastest, but I think I can do the stairs.
I can hear then two of them talking up there right now. I think I'll drop in and pay them a little visit. Oh boy are they gonna be surprised! I found where Jack moved his gun. I guess he isn't as good at hiding things as he is.
It's time to end this, I hope he burns in hell for what he did to me. To whoever reads this first, my doctor, the authorities, I'm sorry, but this was the only way.
THE FOLLOWING DAY
This is a channel 7 news special bulletin. We begin tonight with the tragic story of a domestic abuse situation turned deadly. 32 year old Melody Jennings was found dead late yesterday afternoon after her caretaker arrived late for a shift to find her laying motionless at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a 9mm pistol in her hand.
Her husband, 34 year old Tommy Jennings, was found clinging to life in the couple's bedroom after suffering a severe gunshot wound to the chest. When he was discovered, he could still be heard muttering into his Amazon Echo saying "Alexa… dial 911." Authorities believe Ms. Jennings to have been brandishing the firearm when she slipped down the stairs, causing her to break her neck.