There is refuge in truth. We don’t need a soothsayer, prophet, or saint to make that clear- time and experience will make that clear to everyone. Yet there is also struggle with truth, in my case a struggle with those who deceive and manipulate my situation such that I’m resigned to defending my right to treatment, to the benefits that should be unquestionably afforded those who get stuck by a car in broad daylight while crossing an intersection at 2pm in the afternoon.

My journey through the past year and a half has been at times one of stagnancy, of circles, of learning, growth, and more recently of perseverance. And the truth, my truth, has been hidden from me. Those parts of who I am that get to speak to me when I’m feeling free, when I’m feeling calm and uninterrupted, have been stolen. The constant gloaming of having insurance companies, doctors, specialists, lawyers, and complete strangers make my intimate physical, psychological and personal details into documentation for others’ ends have taken their toll.

And there’s waiting, so much waiting. Waiting on cheques; waiting on doctors in hallways and lobbies and foyers; waiting for results; waiting for permission; waiting for returned calls and e-mails; waiting for everything, every step of the way. Not only have I been physically disabled, but I’ve been made to be the buck that’s passed between all those who make a living off my misfortune. And the half-truths, manipulations, and deceit of insurance company actions are for lack of a more fitting term, despicable.

To have control taken from you, but then not being directly controlled is a very strange and trying experience. I have fought to take what little control back I could, and have enjoyed it, though stressful. Moving to a better place to live was a big step, both for its own stress and because the reality is that financially I could, at any time, be cut off from my subsidy and forced to fight for it.

It’s actually quite easy for an insurance company to cut someone off that’s entitled benefits and make them fight for them. This is something which could last a year in length and I wouldn’t see a dime of what’s owed to me. Unfortunately, this kind of tactic is a horrible thing that can be done to even someone like me - someone who has proven time and time again through each examination and report that I continue to have pain related to the accident, someone who has made every effort to recover and to return to full health, not because it ensures me the miniscule financial benefit I recieve, but because I want my life back.

I have, on multiple occasions had anxious, sleepless nights, where the urge to run, to escape and vanish from this whole ordeal and put it behind me has been almost overwhelming. Even if it meant living where I do and writing to everyone involved and just simply saying “I’m done” - I’ve considered it. Even if that left me screwed, sometimes it felt like the only way to ensure my sanity. Though the following day I had the same simple truth rise like the sun and remind me that it wouldn’t change anything that’s happened, and only serve to destroy what little chance I have now of getting healthier and having some kind of end to this which will help me down the road.

There is most certainly refuge in truth. Finally, my truth has been slowly creeping back in. It’s been fighting for a voice, for a way to become the guide again, and is now chasing out the urge to run, and instead install the urge to fight harder. This fighting part of me knows that whatever the outcome, I will really only be at peace knowing that I did persevere, that I did see this through to its end, whenever it may come. That I fought for what I needed for my health, happiness, and retribution in terms of what’s been taken away from me.

I can’t imagine what things would be like if I didn’t have something else to put myself into over this time I have been off work. This website, and working with Matt has been a huge light in all this darkness. I can only imagine what it’s like for those who go through these types of experiences and don’t have other outlets that they can enjoy - not to mention the support from readers of this website, family, friends, and most of all Sara, who has been at the other end of the rope I’ve been clinging to, pulling me through the hardest parts with her unspeakably loving way.

And now its back to waiting for another day.