To Top it All Off - Almost - With A Totaled Car

          Well, I've been hesitant to post this one because I still feel responsible. But, this is one of those things that I hope will help a lot of people. First of all, I must mention the title - this is not the end of my day after day heartache, just one more thing that God threw my way. However, with this one, He showed me in every way that His hand is a part of everything we do.
          I left my therapist's office and left to go home to Alpine. I needed home. Okay, wait pause. My car has been beaten up a time or two so first I went to get an estimate on how much it would cost to repair my car. Holy Schnizia! This is actually an important variable, but we'll get to that later. Back to me going home. I hopped on the freeway to go out to Alpine. What I didn't know, was that the inside rim of one of my tires has had a hairline crack for a long time. Let me explain what that means in case you're anything like me and know little to nothing about cars and mechanics. Over time, the crack grows and grows until it just breaks. What I mean by the crack breaking, is literally a piece of the inside of my rim broke off. This causes essentially a blowout of a tire as it cannot function the way it's supposed to anymore. What does a blowout of a tire do? Good question. I don't really know, all that I know is what happened to me.

          I lost all control of my steering wheel. It locked itself all the way to the right. I remember tugging on the wheel, trying to make it NOT hit the cement barrier on the FREEWAY, but despite my efforts, that's exactly what happened. The weird thing about hitting the right side of my car, was that the first thing to happen, was that my left airbag went off. Confused, I pulled back, looking at the airbag. Hold that thought for just a second.
          Back to the car - oh no, it most definitely did not stop there. When it hit the barrier, my car then decided to over-correct itself entirely. The steering wheel reversed, and locked itself all the way left. Oh goody! See, now I am a small little sedan driving horizontally, perpendicular to the flow of traffic, on the freeway, during rush hour. Somehow, I managed to make it to the second to last far left lane before an Expedition hit me (Tender Mercy 1). Even crazier, of all the places that they could have hit, they hit the very back of my car, (2) hard enough that it flipped me around and over to the side of the freeway (3). It completely blew out my trunk. The entire driver's side of the car's doors wouldn't open, and my car was smoking.

          Okay, back to me again. Remember how I pulled back when the first airbag went off? (4) This is a vital piece of information because it prevented whiplash and further damage/shock when the other airbags went off. All of my airbags went off, but they only felt like a cushion because of my prior reactions. Like I said, my car was smoking, I could smell it, but I was just... sitting... in my car. Then, a couple people who had seen the accident and pulled over to help came up and were telling me I needed to get out of my car. My reaction time would've been a whole lot longer had it not been for (5) Bryson Carrier. He just so happened to be one of these people who was behind me - but had no idea it was me - and decided to pull over. He also happens to be someone that I know from high school - almost if not the only person I don't hold any animosity towards. He has always only been such a dear friend since the accident. Hearing him tell me what I needed to do, was a lot better than having some stranger, or officer yell at me.
          I tried to call my mom 4 times. My dad was in California so I knew that if I called him, it would likely do more harm than good - he would be too frustrated that he couldn't do anything. However, I decided to call my dad, although he was working, he answered (6). I was able -who knows how!- to calmly explain the situation (although I had no idea about my tires at this point, all I knew was that I suddenly lost control of my steering wheel). (7) Then my dad continued trying my mom until she answered. (8) I guess she was sanding a piece of furniture with an electric sander. He explained what had happened to her, but she didn't have her car because my sister took it. Yikes! Or not so much.... My mom went downstairs and asked my sister, Annika who has severe disabilities, her caregiver if she could use her car. Maryann (the caregiver) said absolutely. (9)
          Since I was heading home, I had quite a few things in my car that were pretty important to me. It's a good thing that my car didn't blow up! (10) And Bryson asked me what I needed out of my car. When my response was "everything," he didn't gripe or complain, he just started loading things from my car to his, because he offered to give me a ride home. (11&12) At this point, I didn't know that my mom was coming. When the officers asked us to write our testimonies; my fingers were freezing and Bryson offered to let me sit in his car as I wrote what had happened. (13) He helped me out with everything and kept me calm. (14) He even called his wife and told her that he was helping me and would be late coming home. What a sweetheart!

          My mom and I finally got in touch and decided to meet up at an exit right off of the freeway. Then we were able to transfer all of my stuff from Bryson's car to Maryann's. As we were doing this, the tow truck that has my car pulls off to the same place we had pulled off at. Bryson had previously got the towing information for me. (15) But, as we talked to the tower, he was able to tell us some of the things that didn't make sense in our heads. (16) He was able to do this because he 'just so happened' to work at a tire shop before. (17) So he knew what had happened when he pulled out the tire that had flown off of my car; he was able to explain it to us. Bryson left, we took some pictures, then we left.

 


       
 Now, onto going to my car at the towing-storage unit. My brother-in-law, Chad Bowcut is an amazing mechanic (among many other things). So he was able to come with me and trade-out the stereos - one that came with the car and one that we put in after market. (18)  While he did that, I was able to reclaim my stuff that had been launched across the freeway but later restored back in my car. (19) Then, while Chad analyzed the damage, he noticed my license plate - "mean people suck" - which I've kept since my first car. He took that off for me as well. (20)
          Holy crap! But wait, go back to the first thing I told you to hold in your mind. The one about how ridiculous my repair bill would be? First of all, I won't have to pay that ridiculous bill! (21) Well, it's taken a while, and a lot of talking with the insurance, but... now I have the amount that the insurance will pay me for my totaled car. (22) It is slightly more than I paid for my car 4 years ago. (23)
          So yeah, I may have set myself up for lots of pain, heartache, trials and tribulations when I told God, "Come what may, I can take it." But, despite the brutality of it all, He makes sure that His daughter knows she is in His hands. No matter what happens; I am in God's hands. For some of us, it is harder to feel it. But I can see it. I can see that He loves me a lot, and I know that He loves each and every one of you a lot. You are in God's hands, His love for each of us is unique, because each of us are unique.

Come What May

     The last couple of weeks may be the hardest time in my entire life. As difficult as it is for me to share, that is just what I'm going to do. I'm willing to do this because I hope that it will make a difference for other people struggling with TBIs, whether it be they themselves, or their loved ones. But, this stuff is HARD.
     So, as I believe I mentioned in my last post, I've started having nightmares. I had been having these terrible dreams for quite a while, but instead of praying to ask Heavenly Father to take them away, instead when I prayed, I said, "Come what may." I figured this was the kind of thing I signed up for when I decided I was going to focus on emotional recovery, and if this is what I needed to work on, then so be it, just help me through it, Father. But, I think after I said "come what may" is when the living nightmare began... The week of torture started when I took the time to really sit down and think about what fears/insecurities/deficits the nightmares were focusing on. Then, the next morning, I finally decided that I had to give up my old facebook. It is something that is really difficult for me in a lot of ways, I'll touch on a few more reasons a little later on, but to me facebook is not just about social media; it's about connections with people. And deleting the old facebook meant saying goodbye, like really goodbye - for good - to EVERYONE who does not have any sort of active role in my life.
     The next day I decided that I needed to write a letter to the professor from last semester who ultimately told me that I wasn't even worth the effort of going to school. I had wanted to write a letter to her for a long time, but it started out being simply too close to the issue with way too much pain. So having stepped away from the situation for a time was good. That was emotionally exhausting as well.
     A while back, I went to my best friend's (from Jr High) homecoming. He was the least Christlike person I had ever seen. Being a brand newly returned missionary, I thought he might like to know. So I emailed him and explained. His response back was so derogatory, so condescending, so critical; he did not take any responsibility, and blamed me for all of it. And he said that I was accusing him of mistakes he made in 8th grade (although I was talking about things he is doing right now). My original email was meant to be something to close the door for me. He opened up the wound so deep again. So I decided that I wanted to respond, defend myself, then tell him not to contact me again. As I went along each argument, it boiled down to this: Other people blame me, accuse me, or hate me for mistakes I made when I had absolutely 100% no control over my actions. I had no judgement, I had no filters, I didn't have the common sense to see if something would hurt someone else. I had NO CONTROL over doing the things I did that were mean, the things that made me "threatening," the things that made all of my friends run away because they didn't know how to deal with me. 
     First mistake about doing that though, was how late I started doing that, because that night did not start out so well for me. I called my mom, crying to tell her what I had just discovered in my point of emotional overload. She calmed me down - or so we thought and we hung up. This was around 11:10 at night. As soon as we got off the phone though, I started bawling. Breathlessly sobbing, all I could do was think. This is about the time I went into a major, major anxiety attack, which means I obviously don't remember everything, but I remember a lot given the fact that everything I thought about continues to bother me - a lot. I was crying because I don't remember anything about my past. At least not the way that you're supposed to have memories. When I'm told stories about myself, or I read in my old journals, I can sometimes remember the events, I know that I was there, but I don't feel it. I can't remember any of the emotions associated with any of the events and quite frankly, it makes me unsure of who I even am. Not only do I not remember a period of time around my accident, but I slowly forget everything. Like right now, I probably only remember the last 6 months of my life. At this point, I hadn't pieced together that I was going through a panic attack, I just thought that I was sobbing and so I didn't see an end to the sobbing - ever. But I called my mom back at either like 11:35 or 11:50. Still sobbing, she couldn't understand a word I was saying. But she talked to me to get me calm enough until 2 in the morning when I was finally able to hang up with her and then go to sleep.
     The next day, I woke up at 6 and couldn't go back to sleep! Which means I was running on low fuel, By this time in the week I am an emotional wall, when thing hit me, yes they'll sink in, but they will definitely take some time. I don't just immediately go bizzark. This is important to note because of what happened this day. I'll write about it next time.
     Remember when I said "come what may, just help me through it"? Well, Heavenly Father sure has shown his hand in millions of ways especially obvious in all that I will write about next time. The other thing that will come up next is the letter I read that had an amazing impact, that made me take a dramatic turn. And holy crap, it's the hardest time of my life, yet while I'm in the middle of it, I'm able to say that it's the best time of my life!!! Say, what?!?! :)

Emotional Recovery Deep Down

     I don't know how to start this post. I'm lost for words (which does not happen very often). I knew that I was mean right after the accident for quite a period of time, but I was just informed that it doesn't matter what I would do; I could beg on my knees, I could explain that it was the injury, I could change entirely, but people I hurt from the past wouldn't forgive me. They wouldn't be able to see past the terrible person I was for approximately 2 years after my accident. The worst part about all of this is that I couldn't see it then, and I can't remember any of it now. Quite honestly, I don't remember a very large majority of my relationships from before the accident. If anyone cares, I would love it if they would email or facebook message (remember I'm deleting the old one) me and give me a little history of our relationship before and after the accident. Fact of the matter is, I don't remember very much of anything from my past - before or after. It bothers me more than one can imagine. People always say that they are made up of their past, but what does that mean for someone who lost all of their past, not only in memory, but in skill and ability?
     I'm beginning to have nightmares - not like falling off a cliff, but ones that bring up so much pain, and I wake in terror, or in tears. I will wake 6-8 times a night, so much for restful sleeping, right? But, it's what I signed up for when I said I was going to work on emotional recovery so when I go to sleep at night and I pray to my Father in Heaven, I say "come what may." Because if this is what I need to be working on, than so be it.
     I'm working my butt off through this entire TBI. It's so hard because of how invisible the injury is. The lashing out, clinging to the past, anger, etc, is all part of the TBI. Absolutely every thing that I do, just getting up in the morning and putting one foot in front of the other takes so stinking much work it's hard for anyone to even fathom. It's so difficult because the things that people hate me for are things that I legitimately had absolutely 100% no control over. I love everyone I've come in contact with, and that's something that won't ever change, no matter how badly they've hurt me. I, like some of my favorite LDS music artists, don't forget people. Christ loves people regardless of how annoying, childish, mean, or anything else. He reaches out to them even more because he knows that they get pushed into the rudders far too often. That's who I've always tried to emulate.

Post Traumatic Relationship Disorder - PTRD

I believe that I can be very intelligent sometimes. I believe that these times occur more often when I do what I am doing now - working through the pain. In my neuropsychology appointment yesterday, I walked through the damage that past relationships have caused me. These relationships have been very traumatic, and I fear will harm all my future relationships. Hence, the title, Post Traumatic Relationship Disorder.
I cannot feel like anyone loves/likes me for me. One could assume that this is because virtually all the relationships I had before the accident vanished. In regards to my peers, perhaps they were used to a constant give, never take from me and when I started to need something they ran. Truth of the matter is that it doesn't matter, I just don't have the capability to feel loved. Because of my relationships before and after the accident, I have a very negative view on relationships in regard to myself. People seem to leave me very quickly, whatever I do or do not do. So I step into each relationship very skeptically.
Not only does the negative aspect infringe on relationships, but I feel like my lack of feeling could possibly demise future relationships. For example, if you are building a friendship with someone and it should be blooming, but the other person just seems to hold you back, then why would you stay friends with them? I've been shattered far too many times to hope a relationship would work. It is not something that I can just tell myself to change. It is as real as PTSD.

Welcome, Year 2015

 I am not in school right now. I do not have a job right now. I am not pursuing a job right now. I am not planning on going back to school. In the world's eye, I am a lazy, piece of crap who is not doing anything with her life. The population says that I need to either be working, or studying something to make me a better worker. Even the government who knows that I have shortcomings due to my TBI wants me to be doing way more school than I'm even capable or working full time. But to my Heavenly Father and me, we are going to work way harder on making me a better, stronger, more resilient person this year than ever before.

 I am pleased to report that I have never worked as hard at recovery over this TBI as I am right now. While I was in the hospital, I jumped as far as physical recovery. When I initially went back to school, I jumped as far as cognitive recovery. But I have never even given myself the chance to emotionally recover. If you are emotionally broken, you can't do anything very effectively; and I don't know about anyone else's injuries, but I know that my injury caused a great deal of emotional heartbreak that will require a great deal of recovery. The hardest part is that everything I do is somehow tied back to the injury and says “you can’t do this anymore,” which is something that I have to deal with every single day. So it’s not just emotional recovery immediately after the injury, it’s baggage that consistently grows. I’ve decided that I need to work my way through this part, as hard as it is, so that I can continue to move forward in life without so many weights holding me down.

This is one of the hardest, most draining – even physically – things to deal with at times. I’ve only been focused on this for a month and I’m already constantly exhausted. But I still have so much work to do. I’m having so many struggles with many aspects in my life and different recognitions. I’ll (hopefully) continue to write more about these things. But, I guess the only thing that I can say at this point, is Bring it On 2015!

Heartbreaking Life

Scene 1:
I've been hanging out with this friend for a few years and he suddenly won't talk to me. I start to ask one of his friends questions and he texts me. So I said, "What did I do?"
"You bug the shit out of me."
Scene 2:
We liked each other in junior high, and we were the absolute best of friends. Before he left on his mission, we talked about how great it would be to see all of our old friends again, returned with honor. I went to his homecoming, wishing to welcome him with all my heart; but he never even acknowledged my existence.
Scene 3:
We were great friends in high school debate. Even though her parents didn't want her around me because of my "spiritual influence," we were still together quite often. In fact, I was there for her, and I walked her out of thoughts of suicide. I saw her at the school earlier this semester, and I needed to do a project on someone from a different country, so I asked her if I could interview her. She agreed, but never returned a phone call or text.
Scene 4:
I met someone and less than 24 hours went by before he said that I "annoyed him to the point of no return."
Scene 5:
In a matured mindset, I wrote a letter to an old boyfriend, explaining that it hurts me more than one can possibly imagine that I don't know what happened between us. I apologized for anything and everything I had ever done that has ever hurt him. I did not ask him to become my friend again, I did not ask him to like me again, I did not ask him to forgive me, I only asked him to acknowledge that he had received my email. That acknowledgement never came.
Scene 6:
I don't like to pick favorites (or bests) but if you look at how often we spent time together, this person has to be my best friend all throughout high school. I was there for her in ways that any typical person would think absurd. Parents divorce, health issues, step-parents, familial suicides, other girl issues, financial struggles, friends, the list goes on. But when I needed her, where was she? She found a new best friend. And now, she won't communicate with me, no matter what.
Scene 7:
My first class back in school was Social Work. You'd think that this would be a great place to meet people who truly care, who want to stay friends, right? Wrong. Or at least wrong in my case. In my defense, he did stay friends with me for about a semester after social work class ended. But then, he was sick of me too. I'd call and ask if I could stop by and say hello, his response was always, "NO."
Scene 8:
I met a very attractive young man classic skating. He told me that he wanted to see me again and he started writing me letters. It was truly adorable. Then he began making excuses, excuses that I believed for a while. Excuses for why we couldn't write anymore, or why he couldn't meet me for this date or whatever.
Scene 9:
I am still hurt by one boy, and his father, and his stake president, every single day. Every single day, it hurts to think that I'm not good enough. Not just that I'm not good enough for this one boy, not just that I'm not good enough to his dad, a bishop, or stake president. Although I know that it's not true, these people have en-graven the feeling that I'm not good enough for my Heavenly Father.
Scene 10:
Finding a friend, boy or girl, who actually cares about me. Someone who will truly be there for me through thick and thin. Someone who will let me care about them. Someone who loves me no matter what. This scenario hasn't happened. The hope for this one gets dimmer each and every time I interact with someone because of the previous scenes I've outlined and so many others just like them.

To say the least, I've gotten far too used to being ignored, avoided, or even blocked by the people I care deeply about. To anyone who has demolished me from their life, I have something that I would like to say:
I am so incredibly sorry. It breaks my heart knowing that my existence in your life was disgusting enough for you to discard of me forever. I wish I could stop pestering everyone, including myself with my presence. Whether you want this or not, I'll never forget you. I love you, I always have, and unlike you, I actually can say with absolutely no doubt that I always will.

Raw Emotion Behind Music

I live by music. This actually really sucks at times. For the most part, any song that came out before May 12, 2010 reminds me of my life before the accident. Somehow music ruptures my soul in that case, by saying "your life was so, so great then and now you can't stand yourself." It's yet one more thing that is completely beyond my control. There are also some songs that sing about the past, that ache. Those that describe people leaving touch me especially. Because for me, it's not just one person, not even one group of friends, but everyone that left me.
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house, that don't bother me. I miss the taste of a sweeter life; I miss the conversation. I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out. I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while. I like to think that we had it all. We drew a map to a better place. But on that road I took a fall, oh baby, why did you run away? Even though going on with you gone still upsets me, there are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay. But that's not what gets me. What hurts the most is being so close. I was there for you in your darkest times, I was there for you in your darkest nights. And having so much to say, and watching you walk away; never knowing what could have been. But I wonder where were you? When I was at my worst, down on my knees, and you said you had my back, so I wonder where were you? While you couldn't see that loving you was all that I was trying to do. It's hard to deal with the pain of loosing you everywhere I go, but I'm doing it. I hear your voice in my sleep at night, hard to resist temptation, 'cause something strange has come over me. And now I can't get over you. No, I just can't get over you. It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone. Still harder, getting up, getting dressed, living with this pain. But I know if I could do it over, I would trade, give away, all the words that I saved in my heart that I left unspoken. What hurts the most is being so close. I was there for you in your darkest times, I was there for you in your darkest nights. And having so much to say, and watching you walk away, never knowing what could have been.  While you couldn't see that loving you was all that I was trying to do.
Like I said in a couple posts ago, I realize now that I was just a jerk. I realize that I am the most annoying frickin' person when you meet me now. But that doesn't change the fact that all I ever try to do, is love you. All of you. It so often feels like I socially did die. Yet at the same time I have to continue living with myself every stinking day.