Being injured is an athlete's worst nightmare. April 16, 2014, changed my life forever. During practice last spring, I tore my ACL and meniscus and had to have emergency knee surgery to repair it. The recovery time for this injury is anywhere between six to eight months and over a year to be 100 percent back to normal. Throughout my four month journey, thus far, I have learned so much about life, other people, and most importantly myself that can truly inspire all athletes.

Dear Old Knee,

I hate you. My life was hell for months because of you. First and foremost, I hate you for the physical pain you caused me. I replay that day in my head over and over again, and it makes me quiver. I can still hear the popping sound it made when I fell down, and it makes my stomach sick. I remember the first day I went on the bike in the gym and the pain was so intense that I bawled my eyes out. I hate you for not allowing me to put weight on my leg for six whole weeks, forcing me to be on crutches (three of those months were during the last month of college). Imagine having to crutch around a college campus.

You have also caused me so much mental and emotional pain. Why were you not strong enough to support me like my right knee? There was only one thought that was replaying in my head: "Why did this have to happen to me?" I hate you for every tear I shed over you and making me feel helpless. I beat myself up over you and made myself my own worst enemy. I hate you for taking away my independence and pride. I had to rely on someone to do everything for me and I had to ask for help even when I didn't want to. I hate you for giving me the urge to quit because sometimes I didn't know if all the rehab, pain, and tears were really worth it. I hate you for making me lose friends because no one wants to be friends with the girl on crutches. I hated the nights I sat in my bed alone on a Friday or Saturday night because everyone else was out walking around with their friends.

Most importantly, I hate you for taking away the ability to play the sport I love. Not being able to walk means not being able to run which means not being able to play field hockey. The second I step onto a field hockey field, with a stick in my hand and a ball at my feet, I feel victorious. The adrenaline rush I experience when I hear the clanking sound of the ball hitting the backboard sends chills down my spine. On the field hockey field, I turn an indescribable feeling into something palpable. I have a wild fury of passion that starts in my toes and spreads throughout every bone in my body, every empty crevice in my mind. Field hockey truly consumes me. Blood, sweat, and the occasional tear -- anything is worth being able to play the sport I love. Not being able to play and having to watch my team from afar makes every bone in my body hurt. Do you see how much you took away from me? I hate you. Thanks, old knee for drowning me in a deep pool of misery.

Dear New Knee,

Thank you. Thank you for this struggle because then I would have never stumbled upon my strength. Thank you for showing me I am capable of accomplishing anything I put my mind to and no amount of pain can defeat me. Thank you for making me fight like hell to get where I am today. My knee may never be the same, but neither will my determination. Thank you for giving me days filled with small victories. The first day I rode the bike I couldn't make it in a full circle but then the next day I could. I smile proudly knowing that every day I get stronger than the last. Thank you for showing me what true progress is.

Thank you for instilling positive thinking in my brain. I tell myself everyday "I can and I will." I had to pull myself up from rock bottom and learn to conquer any obstacle faced before me. I eventually learned I could deal with the physical pain, but mentally I was beaten. Thank you for not letting me quit. Thank you for reminding me over and over again the reason why I work my butt off: simply for the day I get to walk on the field again with a stick in my hand and a ball at my feet. Thank you for giving me something to look forward too.

Thank you for showing me who my real friends are. There were people who were not present during my journey who do not deserve to be there for my comeback. Thank you for unraveling my independence because I now know that I am capable of succeeding on my own.

Most importantly, thank you for making me realize how lucky I truly am. I am beautifully blessed; I have a family, I have a home, I am never hungry or thirsty, and I have my health. I have been faced with a knee injury, not a deathly illness. Never again will I take the action of simply walking for granted. Never again will I say "I hate running" because those three words are no longer in my vocabulary. Most importantly, I will never, ever take the sport I love for granted.

Thank you for rediscovering my love for the game. If you have two perfectly good working legs, two perfectly good working hands, one perfectly good working brain, and a full heart -- you already are ahead of the game. Thank you for reminding me the reason why I play field hockey. I'm damn thankful that I get to do something I love. Thank you for showing me to play every practice and game like it's my last because it very well could be. I finally reached the day I can't play, and can only watch, I now know how much I love something that I used to take for granted.

Love,
Injured Athletes Everywhere