That was incredibly powerful, and incredibly revealing. I know a little of what it is like to want to be the best, and in my case, it was Skateboarding. You look at the injuries that others get, and the fact they get up and try it again, and again, and again, and the next day, and the day after that, after they leave the hospital for stitches and broken teeth, bones, vertebrae, torn ligaments, and by god you want so desperately to be like that, not immune physically to injury but psychologically to it, because it seemed that performing in spite of the massive risks was itself glorious, and in fact often in direct correlation with the level of risk.
We measured ourselves that way. I remember coming home from the hospital after spending 4 days in hospital with yet another broken arm, cemented in with a cast that prevented me from even bending it, attached together with metal pins and rods, and the first thing I did was find my skateboard and roll along slowly to find my other skater friends and go for a roll around. My mum was mortified by it, that's for sure. In fact, the reason I finally stopped skateboarding was a combination of the realisation that I simply wasn't able to overcome my anxieties about pain that held me back from pushing to the next level, and an injury that was so impossibly painful that I didn't walk for about a week: dislocating my ankle and the foot rotating around 180 degrees off the joint.
I was well into my 20s by that time, not too much older than you were when you had your major accident. However, I had it so much easier; skateboarding was all about individualism, independence, in body and mind. The way you describe ballet dancing, it sounds like the very opposite: dancers treated like mere puppets, forced at the youngest ages into contortions that should be impossible, their young hearts and minds manipulated, and to know the taste of Oxy under the age of 10 is horrifying in its implications.
I'm so sorry about the scars both physical and mental that you must deal with every day from that time, but what a remarkable and unique perspective you seem to have obtained, and a voice to speak your truth clearly. I was hooked to the very end. Bravo!
It is interesting to compare the individual idea of pushing yourself beyond pain that you shouldn’t ignore and being forced to because that’s simply how it’s done. My childhood was not a childhood. It was systematic torture. I have a lot of physical and emotional damage that I still carry from it but unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing I was dealing with.
Writing it helping me resign the past to the past and the people surrounding me now are helping me find a better today and dream of an amazing tomorrow for the first time in my life. I appreciate your comment and thank you for reading my work.
That was incredibly powerful, and incredibly revealing. I know a little of what it is like to want to be the best, and in my case, it was Skateboarding. You look at the injuries that others get, and the fact they get up and try it again, and again, and again, and the next day, and the day after that, after they leave the hospital for stitches and broken teeth, bones, vertebrae, torn ligaments, and by god you want so desperately to be like that, not immune physically to injury but psychologically to it, because it seemed that performing in spite of the massive risks was itself glorious, and in fact often in direct correlation with the level of risk.
We measured ourselves that way. I remember coming home from the hospital after spending 4 days in hospital with yet another broken arm, cemented in with a cast that prevented me from even bending it, attached together with metal pins and rods, and the first thing I did was find my skateboard and roll along slowly to find my other skater friends and go for a roll around. My mum was mortified by it, that's for sure. In fact, the reason I finally stopped skateboarding was a combination of the realisation that I simply wasn't able to overcome my anxieties about pain that held me back from pushing to the next level, and an injury that was so impossibly painful that I didn't walk for about a week: dislocating my ankle and the foot rotating around 180 degrees off the joint.
I was well into my 20s by that time, not too much older than you were when you had your major accident. However, I had it so much easier; skateboarding was all about individualism, independence, in body and mind. The way you describe ballet dancing, it sounds like the very opposite: dancers treated like mere puppets, forced at the youngest ages into contortions that should be impossible, their young hearts and minds manipulated, and to know the taste of Oxy under the age of 10 is horrifying in its implications.
I'm so sorry about the scars both physical and mental that you must deal with every day from that time, but what a remarkable and unique perspective you seem to have obtained, and a voice to speak your truth clearly. I was hooked to the very end. Bravo!
Thank you so much.
It is interesting to compare the individual idea of pushing yourself beyond pain that you shouldn’t ignore and being forced to because that’s simply how it’s done. My childhood was not a childhood. It was systematic torture. I have a lot of physical and emotional damage that I still carry from it but unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing I was dealing with.
Writing it helping me resign the past to the past and the people surrounding me now are helping me find a better today and dream of an amazing tomorrow for the first time in my life. I appreciate your comment and thank you for reading my work.