#ive already cried several times today (not pos)

[entering--hyperspace]

Listen ive had a really emotionally taxing day and I CANNOT continue ls3 rn bc Leo playing hide and seek with Aurene and hearts appearing over her head whene he finds her is GENUINELY making me want to cry (pos) and I just cannot do that rn

[mommy-needs-to-break-shit-blog]

10 Years Ago Today. (The Death of Hope)

It was January 18th, 2007. I woke up at 6am, got myself together and went to work. I did a 7-2 shift at one store and picked up a 2-6 shift at the second.

When I got home I paid my bills. (Yeah, 19 years old, 3 jobs, owned my own vehicle, paid my own rent, utilities, phone, car insurance, and credit card bills. Rare by today’s stands.)

I picked my friend Matt up and stop one was Wal-Mart. I got the book for my brother. After, we decided to go get something to eat. As we sat in the restaurant my phone rang, it was Scott, my boss at the studio, he wanted me to come in and help with a project “real quick.” I told him that I would come but I was bringing Matt with me. I worked for a couple hours, then around 1030, we left.

It was cold and rainy. We got in my car and headed out. About halfway home we were talking about “safe cars” and how, at the time, safety sacrificed aesthetic appeal.

I was mid rant,

“I don’t even give half a shit how safe it is. You wont EVER my ass driving a Volvo-o-o OH FUCK!”

Screeching tires, smashing glass, crunching metal, and then THUD. My dome smashing into the driver’s side window.

That “oh fuck” was the sound of me realizing that the odd light coming through the car in front of me was actually an oncoming SUV in the wrong lane. And subsequently ending my life as I knew it.

The car in front of us swerved right and got hit into a stone wall. I saw no traffic on the other side so I swerved left. At that moment time seemed to stop. For a split second I thought we’d made it safely out of the way.

Then the impact.

The Jeep slammed into my passenger door at an angle, slicing open the whole side of my little car, like a fucking tin can. And fusing the door shut. The airbags deployed, the car spun a full 3 revolutions, blowing out all 4 tires, and finally came to rest facing the opposite direction I’d started in.

In the impact I attempted to shield my face, got hit hard by the airbag, and was flung backward into my seat. It was as if I was stuck to the seat, spinning on a nightmarish carnival ride. Glass was flying all over the car digging in and cutting in wherever it landed. I could see everything, the car that hit us, the car he hit before me, and the cars stopped all around. When the driver side tires blew out the spin ended abruptly, smashing my head and shoulder into the window and door.

I felt the car stop and I could smell the burning rubber. I looked over and saw Matt, bloody but conscious. Smoke was filling the car. He managed to groan out “My door wont open!” I was numb from the brain down and no one was coming to help. I thought the car would catch fire, knowing I shouldn’t move or try to move him didn’t matter, I wasn’t burning alive in that car and neither was he! I climbed out my door and grabbed him, dragging him across the console and out, basically on top of me. We both stood up, he was unsteady but standing nonetheless.

That was when I saw my car. I lost my fucking mind. I had no idea how injured I was, all I could think about was the superficial, I had no more car. It was twisted, mangled, and destroyed.

The woman from the car that had been in front of me got out and started screaming across the road at me. She called me every imaginable word from A-F. She thought I hit her. I tried to yell out to her “I didn’t hit you!” but hardly any sound came out. I was horrified.

Some other woman drove right through the accident scene, weaving around the debris and stopped by my car. I thought “oh thank god, she’s going to help us.” wrong. She leaned out her window and barked “Move your fucking car, you’re gonna cause another fucking accident asshole!” Wait, what?! She thought I was the one who caused it.

Everything started to spin, I ran for the side of the road and grabbed the nearest sign post as I started puking my guts up into the brush. I threw Matt my coat to sit on because the ground was too wet, and I continued to vomit.

A guy walked over and started talking to me as I leaned against the post trying to regain my strength. He asked if I was alright, he told me I was bleeding quite a bit and that I should sit down. I refused. He stood there and talked to me a while, he said everything would be alright, that the ambulance was coming and they would take care of me. Then the EMT’s and police were all around and I think that man had just walked away.

An officer was over by me, 2 were directing traffic, another was with the woman from the other car, and 4 cruisers holding 6 or 7 officers were in the parking lot across the street. Guns drawn, strategic positions, spotlights pointed on what appeared to be the white Jeep head on in a tree.

My strength came back real quick when I saw them dragging the staggering shitbag out of the truck. I started screaming, or I thought I was screaming, and I was heading over there. The officer on my side of the road grabbed ahold of my harm and told me to stop. Fuck no po-po. I wasn’t having it. The old woman started screaming at me again, presumably because she thought I was blaming her. Her officer restrained her but I was still not stopping. The officers directing traffic came to help restrain me until the EMT’s made them let me go to avoid hurting me further. By that point the motherfucker was being cuffed and stuffed into a cruiser.

I spun around to the muffled voice of a man asking me to sit. He stuck a plastic brace around my neck and started tending to my face. He said “you need to go to the hospital, you’re cut up badly and I’m fairly certain you have a concussion.” There was bloody gauze all over the tray beside me and Matt was already strapped into a gurney on the ambulance. I got a glimpse of myself in the bubble mirror on the back of the ambulance and nearly threw up at the sight of myself. I started to cry and agreed to go. They set me up on a backboard, strapped me in, and away we went. The EMT monitoring me looked nervous, he started talking faster and louder asking me questions over and over. Until I lost consciousness.

I woke up in the ER, a police officer was standing by my bed talking to a nurse. I was hooked up to an IV and monitors. And holy fucking hell everything hurt.

The nurse rushed to my side when she saw my eyes were open. She said I was lucky. That I’d only been unconscious for about 30 minutes and that my dad was on the way. She expressed concern that with a head injury they were unable to wake me. She told me I had severe contact burns to the right side of my face and neck. Severe burns in my throat from the powder on the air bags. They had pulled over 30 pieces of glass from lacerations on my face, neck, back, chest, and side. I had a fairly severe concussion, and was showing signs of partial paralysis.

It was a lot to take in. Again, thinking superficial, “My face is burned!!” then a sudden jolt “WAIT! PARALYSIS?!” She looked at me with THAT face, that semi-sincere sympathy face. “I’m sorry but yes, your left hand and arm are unresponsive to stimuli. We’re going to do some imaging. Just try to relax, but don’t go to sleep.”

A doctor came in and started talking. He had these packets in his hands and “blabla..response…blabla…nerve damage..blabla..permanent.” He took out these little needles and started poking me in my toes. I told him to fuck off and “ow my feet”. He started poking up my legs. I threatened him if he didn’t leave my legs alone. He poked my hand. I told him to cut the shit and stop poking my hand. “Hand?” he was looking at my other hand, followed his eyes and there it was… The needle, being poked into the palm and fingers of my left hand. And if I didn’t see it I would never have known. I only really remember feeling empty at that moment. Like I was just floating and none of this was real.

My dad walked in a few minutes later and I lost it. All my strength left me and I cried like a terrified child in my father’s arms. I told him what happened, and what the nurse and doctor said. He was surprisingly calm.

As they wheeled my bed off to imaging i saw Matt, sitting up in his bed with his parents sitting beside him.

The imaging was terribly painful and they wouldn’t let me walk or sit up.

My dad did a little bitching and they agreed to let me go under his care. And they told him to keep me awake as much as possible.

I cried the whole way home and then some, I couldn’t lift my arm, How would I play? My throat was burned, How could I sing?

My audition was coming up in just a couple of weeks. I'd be ruined!