I found this quote 365 days ago today. I was looking at quotes about resilience and stumbled across this one. I wanted it to resonate true with me and be real. I wanted to feel THIS right now. I read it and thought..."I'll never survive this. I'll never get through this fire.."
I want to write about my car crash. And before you think it was an actual car accident, just know that when I speak of my car crash, its metaphorical. I won't say exactly what the metaphor is, but no it wasn't an actual car crash. It's how I describe this situation, a trauma if you will, that had been coming at me head on for a long time, and finally made impact on me. Emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually.
I won't always post such deep or bummer type things on this blog, because I want it to be a record of happy and fun or thoughtful memories. But to me, this was a car accident that has shaped me and forced me to grow as a person. It will help me remember just what I recovered from and how far I've come. And I never want to forget that.
Let me explain.
One year ago today I was in my car crash. I wasn't driving, someone else was. It was me in the passenger seat, hopeful that the driver would get us to our destination. That person was driving under the influence of a very heavy and destructive substance. Deep down, I knew they were using this substance. I didn't want to believe it, and denied it for over a year even though my gut and intuition told me this person was 'impaired' the entire time. I sat in the passenger seat while this person drove impaired for over a year, praying they would come down from the high before something terrible happened.
Then on 5.21.17, we crashed.
The driver got out of the car, walked around and examined the damage. The car was totaled. The driver was bumped and bruised, but nothing life threatening. They got out lucky.
Then there I was.
Every bone in my body was broken.
My brain damaged, and not able to process what was happening.
My lungs were collapsing, I couldn't breathe.
My heart, broken into a million pieces. I was dying.
I thought on that day that I surely wouldn't survive and was about to take my final breath.
At first they acted as though they didn't notice or care that I was hanging on for dear life, only worried about themselves...and told me this was the choice they made and it was just unfortunate that I had gotten into the car with them.
Maybe I should have made better choices.
The the shock wore off the driver quickly, and they came down from this thing that had been impairing them for over a year. They had stepped out of the fog in almost an instant. They realized what they had done. What they'd been doing. How injured I was, and how the car (our life) was completely totaled. They called 911. We needed help.
We immediately got help. The driver stood at the doors to where I was taken, with a broken soul and overwhelmed with guilt for what their impaired driving had done to me. To us, and to our life.
The driver was told it could take months, even years for me to recover. But even still at that time, I wasn't so sure I was going to make it. Every breath felt like it was the last, and so many times I would wake up and cry just because I was in so much pain that I just wanted to feel peace and not be suffering anymore. It was too much and I didn't feel there was ever going to be a way for me to recover and be the same person I used to be. Permanently damaged in a way that made me think I would never have a good quality of life. I wanted to die. I wanted to die every waking moment of every day just to feel the relief of this pain.
Months went by. I was healing, but it was slow. There were times the driver pounded on my recovery room doors begging me to please get up and walk, even though both my legs were broken. Begging me to please get back in the car with them. Promising they were no longer under the influence, and would never crash with me in the car again.
How could I be so sure? Why would I EVER trust this person just when I'm starting to get better? The one who drove us head on into oncoming traffic with their foot firmly on the gas, wants me to get back into the car with them? No fucking way.
It seemed like one injury would heal, and another would come up. And it felt this way for months, and even still at times. I've always believed people who suffer any kind of TBI (traumatic brain injury) are never really the same when they recover. The brain is a finicky thing, and not one to be messed with. And of all the injuries I had gotten, the brain was the one that I knew wasn't going to ever be the same if we got through it.
The aftermath of the car crash was devastating. It still is. I didn't just wake up one day and decide I could be happy and trust again. It's been a long road, and will continue to be a long road. But I can say, with all the confidence and security in the world, that I believe the worst is over. Healing comes in time, in phases, and in pieces. It doesn't come all at once. Certain parts of the body can take longer to heal than others, and with different treatments, too.
And YES, I AM a different person. I'm a stronger person. I'm a truer person. I'm learning to love myself. And if this has given me anything it's a strengthened connection with God. Because when I thought I was all alone, even the months leading up to the crash, HE was always there.
I eventually got back in the car with the driver. And so far, the ride has been smooth. I have my trigger moments where I freak out remembering certain things from the car crash, but the driver always assures me everything is okay, and holds my hand until I get through what I need to get through. I no longer feel that excruciating pain associated with the injuries, but the aches and pains pop up every now and then. But I'll take that any day because now I know I can survive, I can persist, I AM resilient, and I didn't die. I made it.
Who knows where the drive will take us this time. But I can only hope its to sunnier places.
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