One Year on…

I feel as though over the past few months I have quite neglected blogging, although, this evidently is not the case, given I have indeed been posting throughout that time – not really any less than usual, either. I have just felt dreadfully detached from it over that time. It has been more of a chore for me to come on here and post since May. Perhaps this is because I have been bogged down by workload, or perhaps it is because I have needed time to myself. Who can say?

A couple of months back I said that I was going to start being more creative with my blog, which is still the intention, but this post is an aside – one I need to type.

For the past two months or so, I have been feeling unwell: drained, lousy, run-down. Perhaps this is another factor as to why I have felt so distant from blogging. I had progressively been getting worse over time, until finally, a few days ago, it all came to a head and now I am quite patently a rather unwell individual. I was so bad over the weekend that I didn’t quite know what to do with myself, but on Monday I saw a doctor, and fear not, fellow WordPress friends, I am now on the up. Turns out I’ve had a long-running infection in my ears for all that time, and it finally flared up into quite a severe one which made me wholly unwell, as opposed to just having uncomfortable ears. So, now I have to take absolutely massive antibiotics which look more like horse capsules, they’re that big, and I have wrapped a scarf around my ears for days on end because, somehow, that helps to relieve the pain. I don’t know.

But let’s get to the point of this post.


Today is something of an anniversary for me, a significant cycle of time that has passed by – or a daiamel, as the Ilimoskus would call it. It has been a year to the very day…

On 5th August 2013, 19:15, I had my accident, which ultimately broke my heart more than it ‘broke’ my physical body. And that’s saying something, really, given the state of my face after the incident. It took me about two months to totally, 100% recover – physically, that is. Emotionally, I still think I am still in the process of having deep wounds stitched up.

But oh, does it not make you ponder? Why should I have been so lucky to have not a hint of abnormality upon my face? How did I get away with that?

Is it dangerous to ask such questions after you’ve experienced such a trauma? Perhaps. But then, I still have a life to question when I so easily could not have, and that is a blessing.

What are you left with after such a trauma?

What physical scarring do you have? What emotional scarring do you have? What do I have?

Physically, I got away with it, as I said. I have a slight indentation on the bridge of my nose where it was cracked, but no one would ever notice this unless they were a nose doctor or if they stared at my face/nose close enough to finally see it, but I would most certainly scream at and push away anyone who ever attempted such a thing. My jaw took most of the beating, though, and to this day I still have problems with it. I am likely to for the rest of my life. It is frustrating, but then, is it not a small price to pay for being alive? You cannot see this issue with my jaw, though; if a stranger looked at me, they would never know I ever underwent such hell.

Or does it tell through the eyes?

Emotionally, it is a different story. Emotionally, I bleed – as much as that five hour waterfall I had coming from me that evening 😉 Accidents leave you more emotionally damaged, it is true. Although my physical person may not have any scars, my heart sure does. Since the accident, I do not like letting people near my face, and I most certainly do not allow anyone to touch it. Not because it hurts, you understand, but because it is more of a conditioned reaction. It is almost as though I do not trust people, that they will hurt me if they touch my face, which makes no sense, given the accident had nothing to do with people, but there we go.

But why did it hurt me so? It hurt me so because I lost my dearest friend. My gentle girl. I loved her so very, very much.

I haven’t spoken properly about this accident since it happened, and I don’t know if I will ever sit there and tell someone all the details. I don’t know if I will ever want to. I have had far too many unfortunate circumstances occur in my life that make my heart cry blood whenever I stop to think about them, and so speaking such things aloud rips my heart out completely. People always say that talking about it makes things better, but I disagree. For me, not talking about it is how I heal. And that is how I’ve always lived my life, since childhood.

There is only one thing I will have to tell out loud, someday, or else I will never move on. But it is a waiting game, and I have always known that. That time will show itself when it is ready; though, the thought terrifies me, all the same.

But, you see, I don’t need to tell people my problems because there is one who already knows them without having uttered a word.

Physically, this accident hurt so much. Emotionally, this accident hurt so much.

But what about spiritually?

Why, oh why, did this have to happen? I have often wondered. Why indeed. But who am I to question that? We all walk our path – we all go where we are meant to – and for whatever reason, this needed to happen to me. God knows why. I’m not quite so sure. I haven’t worked it out yet. I haven’t quite worked out why half the things have happened to me in my life, but they hold their purpose, even though I do not understand.

“Like the river is bound to its flow, life travels where it is meant to go.” – So says our wise friend, Gnotsu, in Times of Old.

There is undoubtedly a comfort in letting yourself drift with the river, but just because you drift, that doesn’t mean you are lifeless – in fact, it is quite the opposite; if you accept your fate to drift with life, you have time to enjoy and appreciate all the beauty and simplicity it offers, and even see the light in the shadows, but, if you spend your time fighting against the current, where does your attention lie? Certainly not on the world around you. It lies on the current, and nothing more.

And so I drift, accepting that this accident happened and that I lost my sweetest girl because of it. But accepting still hurts.

But maybe it was my fault, somewhere along the line. If you pray to see the way, yet sew your eyes shut, God will have no choice but to rip your eyes open. And that will hurt. A lot. There will be much blood and many tears. If you pray for a clearer mind, yet keep walking through the fog, God will have no choice but to hurl you from it, and you will land most painfully and undignified. But He only does it because He cares, because He loves you more than you will ever comprehend.

This accident caused many more wounds on my already wounded heart, but, over time, these gaping wounds have been stitched up, slowly healing. And who holds the needle, who bears the thread? Why, it is He, of course. I may not talk, but it is in silence that I talk to Him, and He is the grand power, the ultimate healer.

In this life I’ve lived, why have I suffered so? So that I can give, while learning how to G R O W.


“You did not ask for this life, this life asked for you.” – So says a character in the upcoming Book 2.

There is a path waiting for each of us to tread, and our souls are summoned to it. It is our path alone, for there is no one who can walk it better.


I will always see the words

that you sewed

on my heart

These are some words from a poem I once wrote.

What are these words?

Faith. Hope. Love. 


Thank you for reading this. May peace always dwell within you.

Orate Door is a poem I wrote specifically about my accident. It is probably the most personally emotional poem I have ever shared on this blog – that and Darling Moon, which I wrote a few months after Ornate Door. Both poems are there, should you like to read them.

I have had a highly creative post planned for weeks and weeks now, but I have not found it within myself to even attempt to create it. Even so, know that it is planned, and that one day you shall see it. Besides that, blog inspiration has left me, so I don’t know when you will next see interesting posts from me.


19 responses to “One Year on…

  1. Hi Jennifer, I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been through so much trauma, but you are moving forward, and as time goes by things become better. Slightly. In different ways. We all deal with things differently. I only know you through your words, but through them you seem to be doing fine to me. Not much consolation, I know, but keep doing it.
    Hope you start to feel better soon, and that you get your blogging mojo back soon. In the meantime, enjoy your break.

    • Thank you very much, Tom. You may not think so, but your words are indeed some consolation 🙂 I am a fighter by nature, and so I will never let misfortunes overcome me. I shall keep being strong, don’t you worry 😉

      Take care, and thanks again.

    • Maybe you are really a minstrel, singing songs from across the sea, that we may be so privileged to hear.
      And maybe I am just a peasant, listening in awe to the sounds so sweet, feeling so complete as such simplicity endears.

      Hugs back 🙂 x

  2. A year isn’t so long a time, in the grand scheme of things. But oh, how much harder it is to heal that which we cannot see or truly touch.

    Keep on healing and growing. One day the emotional wounds will close 🙂

    • Indeed it is not. Well, to be honest, even if wounds never completely heal over, it’s not the end of the world. There’s always something we can learn from a little bit of trickling blood.

      • One thing we learn from our pain is how very strong we really are. Every time we make it through a challenging time we see how strong we can be. Having support from others makes the really difficult even more tolerable. But really isn’t it God that pulls us through each day!?!

  3. I too have been in a funk as far as blogging. It saddens my heart to read w what you went through. I too suffer from emotional pain and have been wondering if I need too talk about it. I was already thinking no, but after reading your post,I am ready to let God heal me through our time together. Because most of my suffering cones from emotional and spiritual abuse, going to God had been difficult. My relationship with him suffers. I fear more abuse, even though I know that is not his nature. It’s like you said about your face. It’s a form of ptsd. I wish you the best and look forward forward to your open and honest posts whether or not you think they are creative.

    • Truly I believe there is no greater healer than God. If you have that love and connection with Him, absolutely anything is possible, and indeed no mountain is too great. In return I am sorry to hear you have experienced such emotional pain; no one deserves it. I hope you can find a way to form a solid relationship with God, though, for suffering is certainly not His way. Once when I was struggling deeply emotionally and spiritually, someone directed me to read the book of James. Perhaps you could find a moment to refresh yourself on it 🙂

      ‘Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.’ – James, 1:2-6

      That’s very interesting, you know.. I never ever thought of my face thing to be a form of pstd. Maybe it is. That certainly makes me ponder.

      Open and honest is my way – couldn’t imagine being anything else! (: Thank you for your comment, and for also being so open and honest with it. It’s lovely to share. I wish you all the best!

  4. Dear Jenny Jen Jen, I am so so sorry for how unwell you’ve been but so glad that you at least know what caused it and I hope that by now you are off the ‘horse pills’ and recovering. I had an ear infection once without knowing and I couldn’t understand why I felt so unwell as you describe here…my response to the doctor when he told me was ” my kids get them, not me!!!”
    There is so much here in your post and my heart goes out to you and huge hugs wrapped around you…and what you don’t need is for me to be preaching to you about all will be well in time etc. What you say about it not always being the right thing to ‘talk about it’ is very revealing and I really do understand….I held many things in my heart when I was younger, keeping it all in,…what I ‘talk about’ on my blog now are mere scratches on a very large surface…some things are just far too painful and personal to be revealed, it would seem, but then, perhaps it might seem the right time to do so later on…who knows? But God knows…
    My life changed radically when I was 24 and I was saved..Although I’ve walked through many ‘valleys’ hence, He has never left my side. You know this too. My prayer for you is this: “For I know the plans I have for you, plans for good not for evil, plans to give you a future and a hope…” You already know that God ‘has your back’. So do I…and you know where I am…sending lots of love to you..and let’s not forget those blue skies and twilights illuminating your path… ❤ xxx

    • I’m on the up now Sherri, finally! After two months -_-‘ Goodness. This has not been enjoyable. I’ve got to go back to the doctors on 20th, but hopefully that will be the last time!! I’m getting so sick of this now. It’s completely taken over my holiday off work… This is not how I imagined I would spend it. Annoying. But what can you do? Never mind, I guess.
      I agree that sometimes I think we may hold something in and not talk about it because God knows that the time to actually speak it is later… But that’s okay. I think you can learn an awful lot about yourself by being silent, you know.
      Thank you for the prayer and support, Sherri. I am, as ever, so very thankful 🙂 I’m glad our paths crossed. Take care and stay well ❤

      • That’s such a shame you haven’t been well during your holiday, so sorry…but…the main thing is you are on the mend at last, yay!! And me too Jenny Jen Jen, I’m so glad we met here…you bring a great deal of joy and light my way you know… 😀 Hugs to you dear one and see you very soon.. ❤

  5. What a powerful post. Such a horrible turn of events, but how lucky you were – and how thankful we are of such luck.

    It’s always interesting and refreshing to hear somebody entertain the prospect of NOT talking about stuff. I can’t say that works for me – in fact, the opposite is probably true, I think that talking really does help me – but even so, keeping quiet is a policy I often stick to. Maybe I’m afraid that revealing all will turn out even worse… but I think it’s more likely because it’s the quickest and most efficient form of self-harm for a lazy person like myself.

    That sounds morbid… but it is a morbid thing. Maybe that’s a different viewpoint to your own. I think we have discussed that before (but what haven’t we discussed, seriously?) The situations and reasonings are, of course, completely different, but I feel the roots are at least similar.

    I too have been slightly disillusioned with blogging, well, over the past few months really… indeed, you will remember that I nearly closed the place down not so long ago. I have so much stuff to post (well, one or two posts), but simply have no motivation to post any of it. Hopefully, the mojo will return to us soon. Maybe tomorrow!

    Who knows. We can only keep wading through the sinking mud, and swinging that cricket bat.

    • Well, honestly, I’m probably only entertaining the prospect of NOT talking for the same reasons you say. I think talking does of course help, so long as you talk to the right person. But I also believe you don’t HAVE to talk to help yourself.

      I nearly closed my place down a couple of months back myself. What are we like 😉 But we mustn’t let such turbulent emotions control most aspect of our lives, ’cause we’ll only end up regretting it later on.

      I’m sure the mojo will return soon enough. It certainly will if we keep playing cricket with those shadows 😉

"What does your heart tell you?" - ToO, chpt. 32

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