Reality Shattered

A divine intervention

(This story contains some descriptions of distressing events- relating to car accidents. Please be aware it may be particularly triggering for certain people)

I think I’m finally ready to write about it.

Or am I?

The number of times I have sat down to pour my heart out, tears in my eyes- re-living the horror.

Only when I read back my words they don’t seem to feel right or be expressed how I want. Or maybe I’m scared? So I tuck away my words, no other eyes shall lay on them.

Divine intervention or the most horrific experience of my life? Both, I would say now. But after a long long time, I can finally begin to face this shadow through words.

Writing about this story is inspired by an article by Keri Mangis, I read just this morning;

I have finally decided to write about my experience of being in a deeply traumatic car accident at work.

Physically trapped I couldn’t move and could barely breathe, my seatbelt choking me.

Awaiting my fate to burn to death trapped in a metal coffin, or to be slammed into by a speeding car.

The vehicle was flipped on its side, me in the backseat with clients. I was closest to the ground next to the window which surprisingly hadn’t smashed.

My colleague and I were going about a normal workday, transporting 5 or 6 clients (adults with disabilities)- who we were responsible for looking after, on an outing. She was driving. Everything seemed normal about the day until we were all hanging by our seatbelts half suspended in the sideways car.

Did I blackout? I’m not sure.

I seem to have some faint remembrance of the metal sound of the car gliding along the concrete (A frequency that would later trigger anxiety attacks for many years).

So there we are, hanging in a sideways car. All I could think of was that I was about to die. Physically trapped and unable to move.

Scenes from movies I had watched of people being stuck in burning cars were filling my mind and I was the most scared I’ve ever been in my entire life.

Hanging on for dear life was the best way I could describe this moment. And it felt like days and hours went by, but in reality it couldn't have been too long.

Men in work uniforms stopped and began lifting us out of the car one by one. I was one of the last to be helped out as I was closest to the ground, pressed up against the concrete side of the car.

Angels, I believe those men were, disguised as ordinary people.

Getting out of the car, another overwhelming feeling of gratitude washed over me. Holding back tears I went over to some of the clients and got straight back to doing my job (After all it was still in work time). I sat on the side of the road amongst the broken glass, trying to soothe and reassure some of the clients. My colleague did the same, she organized for help and I remember she looked me in the eye and said “I’m so sorry.”

I wanted to instantly take away all her guilt. I wanted to reassure her that everything was alright- but I knew I couldn’t.

On to the hospital we both separately went in ambulances with clients. Still on the clock so still doing our best to keep it together.

I remember talking myself through my job- as though narrating what to do next in my mind. I remember being frustrated with myself that I wasn’t acting calmer for the sake of everyone around me.

I got looked over at the hospital and was then allowed to return home.

I couldn’t walk the next day once all the adrenaline had worn off. It felt like I had been hit by a freight train. To get up to use the bathroom sent tears streaming down my face.

For years and years, I told myself to get over this event. To stop talking about it- people were sick of hearing about it I felt. No one understood. Not to mention people joked about it and in turn, I felt even more like squashing my feelings, pain and stress was the right way to move forward.

Some days I wished I had been physically injured so I would’ve been taken more seriously- Which is an awful thing to wish.

Try not to be a burden on anyone, don’t take up too much space. Don’t be loud, or obnoxious, or needy. Don’t seek to be the center of attention. Keep a low profile, help out when you can, and most importantly, keep private things private.

This paragraph from the article above by Keri Mangis stood out to me a lot. As it expressed what I felt for so long about a lot of things including my experience of this event.

My mental health took a downward spiral for many many years, and neglecting my needs became even more second nature after this experience. I was in what seemed like an eternal state of denial.

It was as though the universe was trying to wake me up to so much in my life, but instead, I chose to keep hiding and running from myself. And I managed to do this for many many years even after this experience.

It is painful for me to write about this and put it out into public.

I feel concerned my colleague may read this and feel guilty, even though I forgave her as soon as it happened. I feel shame surrounding the fact this experience still makes my body rigid and tense when I’m in a car with someone else driving. I feel embarrassed it took me so long to stop being so private, to step up and realize I am important and valid, worth investing care and love into.

I believe in many ways the car accident was divine intervention. No one was seriously physically injured luckily, but it did shatter my reality- and likely did the same for the other people who were in it too.

The universe has a way of waking us up and in many ways now I can finally see and understand some of the ways this shake-up did wake me up.

It may have taken many many years, lots of pain, and bucket loads of denial- but hey, at least now I am finally getting there.

For all my trauma, large and small, I am grateful for the learning it has provided me with.

Sone of the main things it has taught me is to be brave enough to share my whole self, wounds and all. To take up space and to stop feeling like I must keep everything locked in a secret vault of privacy.

Thanks for reading 🙏💕