The (All-New) Cut-Throat Club Award
This is a brand new award created by me, given away by me and, hopefully passed along to other bloggers who belong to this club.
This is an award for the SURVIVOR of life and living.
This is in celebration of someone who is currently surviving a traumatic experience and pushing on, renewing an almost lost existence among us.
This award is intended to be given in recognition of the struggle that is all-too-often silently involved in making that survival a continuing reality.
This is an award meant to acknowledge those of us here who have displayed the ability, desire and strength to get back up and fight, despite the anticipation of the worst possible outcome and effect.
Survivors appear at all ages and in all forms and descriptions – you do not have to be the literal survivor of a sliced throat, such as Yours Truly… you just have to foster the essence of a surviving human being up against tough odds.
I would like to acknowledge more cut-throat members publicly and am soon adding a page to my blog strictly for our stories; I believe it is a piece of our survival to connect and heal. I strongly encourage the support of my readers in this award and its distribution around WordPress and abroad.
Food for thought:
Being a survivor of traumatic or violent injury isn’t a happily-ended “wrap”; in fact, the survived incident is the easy part of becoming a true survivor. The aftermath of physically surviving is the harrowing and daunting part of the survivor’s status. Nothing is as it was prior to becoming a “survivor” in a former life that seems obscure and often wastefully spent. The regular trials and tribulations of everyday life are still there, born anew each day for each of us – everyone, even those who aren’t cut-throats – and these trivial elements of living can weigh heavily atop a pyramid of questionable concepts to the cut-throat mind. As most of you know, I am a survivor myself, one who tastes gratefulness with each inhaled breath of oxygen that I get since my own survived, very near-fatal assault, sometimes I have days when surviving feels like it was a mistake on my part, even now. It’s impossible to convey with clarity – the way I sometimes find myself resentful for having been made into a Freak of Nature for two years out of my survivor life, unrecognizable to family and friends and the reflection in the mirror, the way I used to just lie there and wish with all my might that the morning just wouldn’t come once the meds TKO’d me. There were times that my appearance literally instilled the fear of God in children at a convenience store or the gas station, and I would be overcome with some strange form of jealousy of them, because they had a mommy to run and hide behind to block out my maimed face from view. How could they have known my gig though? That I had once been Homecoming Princess AND Queen consecutively; they couldn’t be aware of the fact that I used to have “the most infectious smile humanly possible!” according to a news anchor who interviewed the non-maimed childhood Me on the local news. Back then during the reconstruction phase of my cut-throat membership, there were honestly more days than not that I spent wishing for death, wishing to be done with this torturous aftermath of surviving the injury of having my throat violently sliced open…wishing NOT to survive after all.
It is because of these reasons, that this “award” and its acknowledgements are so meaningful to me; because I am fully aware of the anchor to the ankle – the second thoughts, the macabre curiosities associated with the other possible outcome of that life-altering day when I became a cut-throat, the day my survivor was born. If I hadn’t survived, what would that make me?
Most certainly NOT who I am.