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I started to believe in hope again, and started believing in myself

Four years. It’s been four years since I’ve felt the grass underneath my feet.

Four years since I ran around kicking the tyres of my truck and trailers to make sure they had air, before heading off for what would normally be the week on the road.

It’s been four years since I danced around on my own two legs and feet.

Four years ago I went to work and never returned the same. It’s been a heavy weight to carry that sort of loss around.

Not just the loss of my legs, but the loss of my career, the loss of what I thought my life would look like.

The surgeries that never seemed to end, the medication that filled me with anxiety and made me so tired. The flashbacks and reminders every time I saw a truck.

Nothing could prepare me for the seemingly never-ending grief that comes with that sort of trauma. Twelve hours I spent hanging upside down in that truck, mostly awake, in pain and terrified, screaming out for my dog who was in the accident and lived to tell the tale, but what a blessing it was to have a paramedic that would go against his orders to eventually cut my foot off to get me out of that truck, barely alive.

My surgeon ended up having to cut both of my legs off above the knees. It took me almost six months to remember anything about that day.

Michelle says she’s now in a good place and started to believe in herself again. Image: Michelle Pillar

For the next three years I watched myself slowly fading away mentally. My loud laugh became rare. I shut the world out not knowing how to explain how completely dead and worthless I felt inside.

My spirit was gone and I was in physical pain every hour of the day. I felt trapped and the world around me seemed so distant and scary to face.

One year ago I decided to choose myself. I moved away from the town that felt hard to be in. I threw most of my medication away. I learned that my value doesn’t rise or fall based on who chooses me. I learnt that my scars aren’t shameful, but a symbol of strength.
I am proof that even in life’s darkness moments, we can rise, rebuild and create something beautiful, even if that looks different now.
This past year I made the choice to show up, sometimes strong, sometimes figuring it out, but I learnt that connection is everything. I’ve met so many genuine people, that I look up to every day. I learnt that I am not the only one who is in this position.

I looked at those people and thought wow, they are amazing, and I started to see that in myself too.

Everyone eventually goes through hard times, loss and grief. That looks different for every single person. It’s about feeling your emotions, accepting that things don’t always go to plan.

I’ve cried so many tears I could have filled a swimming pool, but then I picked myself back up, went to therapy, found happiness in the small things, and slowly came back to life.

I started to believe in hope again, and started believing in myself.

I started remembering who I am again, and genuinely laughing and appreciating the fact that I am still alive.

I no longer worry about what people think of me, and however long I am lucky enough to live, I will be grateful for everything I have and everyone who has stuck by me because when times are tough you are the people I think about and am so lucky to have in my life.

I hope that I can one day help people the way that you have helped me.

The post I started to believe in hope again, and started believing in myself appeared first on Big Rigs.

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