I could happily live without helplessness. I've mentioned it before, my intense dislike of it in others, and now my having it thrust on me, unasked for, unwanted, hated, but immovable. I am the type who, if something needs doing, I like to get it done. I was a light bulb-changer, a toilet roll thrower away, a cook dinnerer.
It changed in a matter of seconds, a crushing sound of metal, some thorn trees. And I could definitely live without it.