I'm long overdue for a new post. I've had a dozen in my head over the last couple weeks, and I'll likely go back and write them in the coming days and weeks, in between writing current posts and updates. Tonight, I'm already tucked into my warm bed, with my flannel sheets, in my new room, in my new apartment, in my new city, in my new state, in my new life. This is my fourth night here. So much has happened in the last few days, it feels like months. I suppose I'll start at the beginning. As I hear, it's the very best place to start.
I left Cape on Friday, December 11th, shortly before 5pm. My friend Ryan had come to help me with the move. Ryan and I have a special sort of bond that two people rarely share, and he's extremely protective of me. He's always looking out for me, he's always got my back. This was no exception. He was driving my 26' UHaul, with my car strapped to a trailer, overnight, all the way to Denver, so I could be there by noon Saturday for an interview. We talked on and off, and then, after a few hours, I started to fall asleep. I slept on and off for several hours, aware that we were making good time, and feeling very safe in Ryan's hands. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, adjusting my position, and going back to sleep.
I'm suddenly jolted awake, terrified, screaming, "RYAN!!!" at the top of my lungs, aware of him screaming my name, and putting his arm out in front of me, trying to protect me. All I know is that we are no longer on the road, and there is something huge right in front of us. We hit it, and suddenly, we are entirely airborne, and as I'm yelling, I'm thinking, "This is it. This is how we die." And there was nothing I could do about it. Not only that, but I didn't even really know what was going on. I had been asleep literally two seconds before. The truck hits the ground with a sickening and painful thud. I'm immediately aware of PAIN, and finding it very hard to breathe. For a second, I actually think my spine has snapped, right at the top of the lumbar area. I feel like my rib cage has collapsed, and I am finding breathing painful and difficult. I remember Ryan yelling and asking if I was okay. I screamed, "My back!" And he's saying, "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" I'm expecting everything to be a mess: the truck, my car, the trailer, all of my things, Ryan and myself. But the truck keeps going. Ryan pulls it over on the other side of the road, and stops. He gets out, checks the truck, my car, and my trailer, then comes and opens my door. I'm in excruciating pain, and struggling to even breathe, but I ask about my car. I'm fully expecting it to be totaled. I was pretty sure the straps had snapped, and the car went flying off the trailer, rolling over a time or two. Somehow, it was fine. As I found out later, only part of the plastic trim around the wheel well had popped out, and that was easily fixed, and one of my 8lb hand weights had knocked a small hole in the plastic of the trunk door. That was it. I get out of the truck, knowing that a lot of what I was feeling was muscle pain, and I was worried that if I didn't stand up, my muscles would seize in a hunched position, potentially suffocating me. I was out for about 5 seconds before I went completely blind from the pain, and could feel myself losing consciousness. I asked Ryan to help me back in the truck. We continued on, 400 miles from Denver. Ryan had asked if I needed to go to the hospital, but I needed to get to Denver for my interview. There was obviously no more sleeping for me after that. Every time I started to drift, I would jerk back awake. I was aware only of my intense physical pain. The rest was a numb shock. Shock that we were still alive. That all vehicles were fine. That it had even happened. I didn't even really know WHAT had happened. A few hours later, Ryan explained that we were passing a rest stop, and a temporary merge lane took him by surprise, as he didn't see it until a truck was too close for comfort and honked its horn. As he tried to get over, the trailer started to fishtail, and he realized he was going to have issues keeping control of it and avoiding the truck. He told me later that he felt so helpless, realizing he had two options: go right and crash into the truck, or go left and crash into the police turnaround. He chose the latter, also then convinced we were going to die. I think that wound up being the single most terrifying experience of our lives, for both of us.
We got to Denver, my mother thanked him profusely for his protective instincts and handling the situation so well. I was in excruciating pain, but after getting into my apartment, I changed my clothes, put on my makeup, and left for my interview (which went very well, though I haven't heard back from them yet). I got back, and we unpacked and unloaded things, with the help of Amy, Chilan, and Jeremy. By the end of the day, we had made some decent progress, so Ryan and I went to dinner at Park Burger, one of Denver's awesome unique restaurants, and then we went and I bought a couch; a "grown-up" piece of furniture, to replace the grad school stuff I had left behind.
Both of us went to sleep that night, exhausted and sore from the events of the day. Sunday, we were joined by my cousins Scott and Valerie, and long time friends Rachel and Sean, and their three kids, who brought us dinner and left me with lots of food for the next few days. I felt so blessed, as Ryan put together my new dresser (the old one hadn't made it through the accident), Scott broke down and threw away my old one and helped unpack and throw away boxes, Valerie organized my kitchen, Rachel fed me, and Sean set up my tv and technical stuff.
Monday, I went to see my cousin Sarah, who is an amazing acupuncturist in Boulder (if you live around here, look her up- Sarah White Stillman- she's awesome!), and she checked me over and did her work on me. She told me to take it easy, as my body had been through quite the trauma, and it looks like I have an inflamed or bruised appendix. As I spent most of that day and Tuesday resting, I had time to reflect on the events of the past few days. I noticed that I actually wasn't mad that I lived through a near-death experience: proof that my depression is lessening. I realized I hadn't cried since leaving Cape (HUGE improvement there, lol). I realized I was starting to look at the future without a complete and overwhelming sense of dread. I'd be happier if I didn't have to take it so easy right now, with all of my injuries, but I'm okay. A little of the sadness has started to catch up to me again, but I'm doing okay. I look out the window at all the snow, and I feel...serenity. Something about snow always makes the world seem new and more peaceful. I've no idea how things will unfold here in the next days, weeks, months, and even years, but I'm looking forward to seeing what happens. A new life, a new place, a new (Star Wars pun NOT intended) hope.
I left Cape on Friday, December 11th, shortly before 5pm. My friend Ryan had come to help me with the move. Ryan and I have a special sort of bond that two people rarely share, and he's extremely protective of me. He's always looking out for me, he's always got my back. This was no exception. He was driving my 26' UHaul, with my car strapped to a trailer, overnight, all the way to Denver, so I could be there by noon Saturday for an interview. We talked on and off, and then, after a few hours, I started to fall asleep. I slept on and off for several hours, aware that we were making good time, and feeling very safe in Ryan's hands. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, adjusting my position, and going back to sleep.
I'm suddenly jolted awake, terrified, screaming, "RYAN!!!" at the top of my lungs, aware of him screaming my name, and putting his arm out in front of me, trying to protect me. All I know is that we are no longer on the road, and there is something huge right in front of us. We hit it, and suddenly, we are entirely airborne, and as I'm yelling, I'm thinking, "This is it. This is how we die." And there was nothing I could do about it. Not only that, but I didn't even really know what was going on. I had been asleep literally two seconds before. The truck hits the ground with a sickening and painful thud. I'm immediately aware of PAIN, and finding it very hard to breathe. For a second, I actually think my spine has snapped, right at the top of the lumbar area. I feel like my rib cage has collapsed, and I am finding breathing painful and difficult. I remember Ryan yelling and asking if I was okay. I screamed, "My back!" And he's saying, "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" I'm expecting everything to be a mess: the truck, my car, the trailer, all of my things, Ryan and myself. But the truck keeps going. Ryan pulls it over on the other side of the road, and stops. He gets out, checks the truck, my car, and my trailer, then comes and opens my door. I'm in excruciating pain, and struggling to even breathe, but I ask about my car. I'm fully expecting it to be totaled. I was pretty sure the straps had snapped, and the car went flying off the trailer, rolling over a time or two. Somehow, it was fine. As I found out later, only part of the plastic trim around the wheel well had popped out, and that was easily fixed, and one of my 8lb hand weights had knocked a small hole in the plastic of the trunk door. That was it. I get out of the truck, knowing that a lot of what I was feeling was muscle pain, and I was worried that if I didn't stand up, my muscles would seize in a hunched position, potentially suffocating me. I was out for about 5 seconds before I went completely blind from the pain, and could feel myself losing consciousness. I asked Ryan to help me back in the truck. We continued on, 400 miles from Denver. Ryan had asked if I needed to go to the hospital, but I needed to get to Denver for my interview. There was obviously no more sleeping for me after that. Every time I started to drift, I would jerk back awake. I was aware only of my intense physical pain. The rest was a numb shock. Shock that we were still alive. That all vehicles were fine. That it had even happened. I didn't even really know WHAT had happened. A few hours later, Ryan explained that we were passing a rest stop, and a temporary merge lane took him by surprise, as he didn't see it until a truck was too close for comfort and honked its horn. As he tried to get over, the trailer started to fishtail, and he realized he was going to have issues keeping control of it and avoiding the truck. He told me later that he felt so helpless, realizing he had two options: go right and crash into the truck, or go left and crash into the police turnaround. He chose the latter, also then convinced we were going to die. I think that wound up being the single most terrifying experience of our lives, for both of us.
We got to Denver, my mother thanked him profusely for his protective instincts and handling the situation so well. I was in excruciating pain, but after getting into my apartment, I changed my clothes, put on my makeup, and left for my interview (which went very well, though I haven't heard back from them yet). I got back, and we unpacked and unloaded things, with the help of Amy, Chilan, and Jeremy. By the end of the day, we had made some decent progress, so Ryan and I went to dinner at Park Burger, one of Denver's awesome unique restaurants, and then we went and I bought a couch; a "grown-up" piece of furniture, to replace the grad school stuff I had left behind.
Both of us went to sleep that night, exhausted and sore from the events of the day. Sunday, we were joined by my cousins Scott and Valerie, and long time friends Rachel and Sean, and their three kids, who brought us dinner and left me with lots of food for the next few days. I felt so blessed, as Ryan put together my new dresser (the old one hadn't made it through the accident), Scott broke down and threw away my old one and helped unpack and throw away boxes, Valerie organized my kitchen, Rachel fed me, and Sean set up my tv and technical stuff.
Monday, I went to see my cousin Sarah, who is an amazing acupuncturist in Boulder (if you live around here, look her up- Sarah White Stillman- she's awesome!), and she checked me over and did her work on me. She told me to take it easy, as my body had been through quite the trauma, and it looks like I have an inflamed or bruised appendix. As I spent most of that day and Tuesday resting, I had time to reflect on the events of the past few days. I noticed that I actually wasn't mad that I lived through a near-death experience: proof that my depression is lessening. I realized I hadn't cried since leaving Cape (HUGE improvement there, lol). I realized I was starting to look at the future without a complete and overwhelming sense of dread. I'd be happier if I didn't have to take it so easy right now, with all of my injuries, but I'm okay. A little of the sadness has started to catch up to me again, but I'm doing okay. I look out the window at all the snow, and I feel...serenity. Something about snow always makes the world seem new and more peaceful. I've no idea how things will unfold here in the next days, weeks, months, and even years, but I'm looking forward to seeing what happens. A new life, a new place, a new (Star Wars pun NOT intended) hope.
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