I can definitely identify with your post.
For me the issue started around 4 years ago. I was riding with my grandson and had a fall that resulted in breaking both of my elbows. Recovery involved 9 weeks off work, 2 weeks with a personal health care attendant, and 8 months totally off bikes. The worst part BY FAR, however, was mental. Mrs. Grouch and I bought a $7,000 recumbent tandem so I wouldn't have to put any pressure on my elbows. On several occasions we drove out to a trail, got the bike set up to ride, and I was still unable due to anxiety. I continued to fight it. I visited with a psychologist for a few months and made some progress but the anxiety remained. The continuing anxiety left me tense while riding. That increases potential for falls. I've had several including 2 significant concussions, and a broken femur (another 9 weeks off work).
Today I can ride my SWB recumbent with increasing confidence, but we traded the Screamer recumbent tandem for a pair of linked tricycles. I HATE them. We are glacially slow and I feel like everybody is watching and secretly laughing at me. When we ride together I get real grumpy. While riding with Mrs. Grouch last Saturday I told her that I wish that all the passing riders who made friendly, happy comments to us would disappear and die. That's not a healthy state of mind. I can't tell you how envious I am of the people I see riding on crummy old bikes with no helmets like they don't have a care in the world. I hope one day to return to that but, while I'm improving, I'm clearly not there yet. Next month Mrs. Grouch and I are driving 500 miles to Xenia Ohio to ride with some other recumbent people. I hope we're not the slowest ones but that might happen.
I did some serious soul searching about whether I wanted to post this for everybody to see. Normally I'm a bit on the introverted side and prefer to let experiences like this pass unnoticed by others. What goes through my mind, however, is if my experience can somehow benefit somebody else. Thanks for your story. It makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only one.
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My greatest fear is all of my kids standing around my coffin and talking about "how sensible" dad was.