182.5 Days

//182.5 Days

182.5 Days

 

I’ve never classified myself as the type of gal to summarize my existence into a particular time frame. It’s common in life to say “last year was…” or “so far this year I have…” You’ll even hear statements like “when I was 23 I remember,” or “this next year is going to be my.” Not with me. It’s just not the way this dynamic brain of mine works. I experience, observe, and execute on plans created with minimal risk of failure. I’ve always been this way. Until January 19, 2018. Everything changed. Grab a drink and travel with me please to the date that flip my world upside down.

182.5 Days

It was a typical wintery morning in Central Ohio. I was driving along in rush hour traffic near 315 and Henderson Rd. Filthy by JT was  playing on the radio and traffic was insanely heavy, a crawl. The next few seconds are still a blur and the moments difficult to recall. I remember this feeling of uneasiness all over my body as I lunged forward. The person behind me got out of their car and I followed suit. Their bumper was on the road and mine was severely dented in. Within the next 24 hours I found myself in the ER being diagnosed, dazed, and in shock.

Concussed

Head Injury. Brain Trauma. As an accident prone child I’ve had my fair share of bumps and bruises. Sprained ankle here, broken finger there. Never have I ever dealt with a blow to the head. It was a living nightmare. The paranoia, the throbbing pain, the light sensitivity. I sat in the dark for days, terrified to leave my bedroom, afraid to let anyone in my home. I didn’t answer the phone, I barely communicated with the outside world because the fear was so paralyzing. I felt trapped inside my mind, struggling to push away the fog and find my way back to me. But I was lost and could only put up missing signs, praying desperately to be located. Eventually the pain went away and my mental balance regained a solid foundation. Still, months have passed and I’m not the same.

If It Looks Like A Duck

It was probably two months after the accident that I was acutely aware that the colors of my world were a slightly different hue and I hadn’t the faintest idea of how to act. In truth, I didn’t feel inclined to exert the effort to formulate a plan to correct something that wasn’t broken; just different. I also couldn’t deny that different scared me, the unknown isn’t my favorite place  I’ve never found solace in mystery. Somehow this accident released the invisible grip life constantly seemed to demand. The self imposed nonnegotiable restraints responsible for the timeliness, organization, and overall strategy to my existence. I found myself daydreaming more, laughing louder, and taking life a lot less seriously… and I loved it. I basked in the beauty of this new paradigm, unburdened by other’s perception of what should be the critical elements of my everyday bubble. For the first time in a long time I wasn’t dialed into EVERYTHING and that ignorance, oh my, I finally understood why its bliss.

Back To Reality

As is the way sometimes in life, turmoil and chaos can be quite unrelenting. As the days of 2018 have clicked by, additional strife has struck my surroundings. From water leaks to death and bouts of depression, the first 182.5 days have been anything but slow paced. I take extreme delight in my new mental freedom, the unlocked block I didn’t realize existed. Gone is the heavy weight every perfectionist grapples with daily. That expectation of high performance we strive to achieve while fighting the unavoidable consequence of imperfection.When the colors and sounds swirling around blur my vision, I reach to the clouds and let the birds sing me sweet melodies. The beauty in creation comforts me.

182.5 Days 

I’m eager to experience the next 182 days of 2018. As a result of the water leaks, I’ll be remodeling my kitchen and want to have fun with the design process. I would also like to create a meditation and stretching space in my domicile at some point. Later this year I’m planning a weekend trip with my sissy to Minneapolis where we plan to cry on the steps of Paisley Park in tribute to the Purple One. One of my deepest struggles of 2018 has been to curate content for this beloved site. My ability to create and concentrate has been such a challenge and yet I can’t regret the journey of the last 182 days. Put on your sunglasses friends, because the future is bright.

Until we meet again, let’s all support something local. I’ll see you around the city soon.

Catch me on instagram here.

#cbuslocallove.

 

By |2018-07-19T01:50:25+00:00July 19th, 2018|Brainstorm|4 Comments

4 Comments

  1. Sydney July 23, 2018 at 10:26 am - Reply

    Wow, what a day you had! I haven’t dealt with a head injury personally in my lifetime, but I know quite a few who have. Not something to overlook!

    • Robin July 25, 2018 at 4:47 pm - Reply

      I can’t believe how crazy this year has been myself. Head injuries are so scary.

  2. Stephanie Taleghani July 23, 2018 at 8:19 pm - Reply

    Wow! Thank you for sharing your story. I’m so sorry that you have to and still are going through such an ordeal.

    • Robin July 25, 2018 at 4:46 pm - Reply

      I appreciate you reading my story!

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