July 7, 2006: Call It Therapy

A couple days before July 7th, I usually think to myself, “That date is important, but why?” Then it occurs to me. It was three years ago today that I had a life-changing accident on a highway in Ohio.

On July 7, 2006, I was driving home from work completely rived up. Soon I’d be moving to Washington, DC after just graduating with my bachelor’s degree. I was anxious for the opportunity of starting fresh in a new city; meeting new people and having new experiences.

It was around 4 pm and the traffic wasn’t bad. Yes people were headed home because it was a beautiful Friday but nothing crazy (not like DC traffic). I was in the center lane traveling on top of the world – I couldn’t wait for the weekend.

Crash.

Within a split second this happens all at once: I look over to my driver side window. I see a red semi truck’s grill pushing me SIDEWAYS. I don’t know what happened. It happened so fast. I was being pushed by a red semi-truck. Was the driver oblivious? I knew this was it. This was the way I would die. Goodbye Julie. Goodbye opportunities in DC. Goodbye Mom, Dad, Valerie, Melanie, Dan… everyone.

Opportunity

Crackle… CRASH… more noise. This was it. In the short time this all happened, I was literally waiting for the truck to drive on top of my vehicle or crush me so hard that I wouldn’t feel my legs. That didn’t happen. All the sudden – like a crisp breeze – we stopped. I was fine! I could still move to DC!

Opportunities!

My first thought was to get out of the car as soon as possible so the driver knew I was okay. I called my dad and he left work as soon as possible, drove the same highway where I crashed, parked his car, and came running towards me. The crash had cause a ton of traffic and I heard later that I even made the radio. I was balling and I knew I’d never be the same.

My car wasn’t even totaled on that Friday afternoon – just some hefty repairs. Physically I was completely fine except for small scraps from the window glass. A semi truck like the one pictured above pushed my car sideways about 50 feet on a highway in Ohio. Apparently the truck got me from my back left corner and my little car swiveled and ended up being perpendicular to the truck. It was a maneuver that only took a split second to make my car do that.

That night started an emotional roller coaster that I don’t think I could describe in one blog post. The crash messed with me so much that it affected my move to DC, my relationships, my schooling, and everything combined for at least a year. It caused panic attacks and blackouts while driving (try doing that while on 495 amongst traffic all while being a new DC driver?). Sometimes I would be driving and a flash of the truck pushing me at my window would come back so realistic that I didn’t think I was hallucinating. Dan noticed quickly after the accident that something was wrong and helped me seek help. I did seek help and now I am fine. I honestly don’t think I could have made it as well as I did without the help from Dan.

From that accident I have learned to appreciate life and how lucky I was that day. Were there angels with me on the highway back then? I believe so. The whole thing stopped so beautifully like a when a ballerina comes to a graceful halt. There had to have been something or someone assisting. I used to think I should have died that day. It didn’t make sense that I survived it.

Now I realize that I survived for a reason. To share my story and as a future psych*logist to help understand what it’s like to have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (I was never formally diagnosed). Or any disorder affecting the mind. The craziness I felt way after the crash was not me and I couldn’t control it. I worried about everything and I was always unsure. I’m sure I also developed Anxiety. Either way I worked through it and while the crash still haunts me, I know it happened for a reason.

This is one of those posts that I’ve always wanted to write but it was so personal that it took me awhile to get the nerve to. Today, I couldn’t think of a better day to write it.

xoxo,

Julie