Time Flies When You’re Lost in Wonderland

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In one week’s time, it will be five years to the date since I got into my accident. Five years since I heard the panicked “Ang, look out!” and that wretched screech of metal on metal, spinning us 180°- the aftermath of smoke filling my lungs, my eyes, my head as I fought to comprehend the last 3 seconds. Five years since the words “Subdural Hematoma” became something of a mantra- explaining that I had a TBI in the way I might mention that my eyes were blue. Five years since I walked into the belly of the beast.

I could talk at length of the events following this most pivotal moment in my life: the abuse- the real nightmare. But I can’t seem to summon even the slightest explanation that would begin to do justice. In the time that followed the accident, I never seemed to be at a loss for words; it was my mind I was losing. I have volumes of alternating and conflicting attempts to cling to reality and dissociate as heavily as possible, all penned on occasions I have little (if any) recollection of. It is on one of those I’ll have to rely to describe this Wonderland I was trapped in to you, though it does so little justice…

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May 17, 2015

How many times have I compared myself to poor, foolish Alice- falling forever down the rabbit hole? I fell down that hole the day I got into that car accident, waking up on the other side after what felt like I was falling forever- falling deeper and deeper in the bed of the truck, waking to EMTs hovering above me, unaware that I had (and when?) fallen asleep. Deeper and deeper in the back of the ambulance, holding my sister’s hand and mumbling about how sorry I was, over and over, unaware of just how long the list of things I was sorry for would become. Deeper and deeper to intermittent consciousness at the hospital, doped up on morphine and laughing in complete inability to comprehend the prognosis. Deeper and deeper until my father left me, reluctantly, at my new home, kissing this new stranger goodbye. I wonder if he knew how far gone I already was– how far I had yet to fall…

The rest is a blur. I’m not sure when exactly I stopped falling, or when my head quit spinning from the trip. Days blended into hours blended into weeks blended into seconds. I may not have died, but something changed that day- something broke, and shattered into a million tiny pieces, and never did I imagine it would be so impossible to put myself back together again.

I thought I’d escaped. I thought I found my way out, but just as is so very like the Cheshire cat, when I desperately asked which way to go, not knowing where I wanted to be, he pointed me in whichever direction, knowing that I would wind up right back in that very same spot sooner or later. And there he would sit, maniacal grin glowing knowingly. “We’re all mad here” he coos…

 

In one weeks’ time, it will be 5 years to the date that I stepped into Wonderland. Today marks 293 days since I left the Cheshire Cat behind…

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