I had my first car accident. I totaled my car when I hit the back bumper of a minivan. I failed to stop at a red light because of the sun glaring through my window. The sound cars make upon impact is unlike any other sound I've heard in my life. I've heard a car accident before, but this time it was different. It was quick, loud, and resonates even now. Airbags deployed before I could comprehend what was happening. I hit the brakes and stopped safely next to a utility pole. Several failed attempts to open my door forced me to crawl across broken glass to my passenger door, leaving my shoes wedged under the dash. I ran out to find two gentlemen who had called 911. The other vehicle informed me, quite hysterically, that she had kids in the car. My heart sank. I was unable to see the damage I had done to her car, but they assured me they were all fine. Not a single bump, bruise, or scratch was evident on their bodies. (Shout out to the sharp-dressed might-have-been-a-lawyer who stepped in when I thought for sure I was going to be murdered.) Thankfully, there was an unmarked police car a few cars behind us when the collision occurred. Within minutes, we had local police and fireman on the scene. I managed to dig my flip flops out from the under the dash and present my information to the police while I gave my statement. Thankfully, the other vehicle only lost a bumper. Celeste, on the other hand, lost a little bit more. She will make her way to a scrap yard, proud of her service. After the EMTs looked me over (it didn't take long because I insisted I was fine.) I called my mother. As soon as she answered the phone, I lost it. She calmly asked the right questions and told me she would be there to pick me up as soon as possible. Firemen used chemical neutralizers around the ever-growing puddle of various fluids that poured from my vehicle. "The last thing we need is someone to toss their cigarette out the window," he said with a smirk, trying to ease the tension. The tow truck came and loaded my baby onto the bed. Though it seemed like an eternity, my mom arrived about ten minutes later. The moment I saw her, tears fell from my eyes as if someone had turned on a spigot. She hugged me and told me everything was going to be fine. We followed up with the police before they cleared me to go. We wanted to see my dad, just to let him know that I was alright. Telling my dad terrified me. My dad is not mean or condescending in any way, but not only was my car totaled - it was my fault. But like any good father, he just hugged me and said he was glad everyone was okay. We spent the rest of the day dealing with insurance companies and a less-than-adequate emergency room, but not before a quick Dairy Queen run for some much needed "depression food", as my family calls it. (Sometimes it's cheesecake, but that day expressed a dire need for a French Silk Pie Blizzard.
Much like the impact that shattered my windows, my perspective on fears and risks were destroyed. The bruises to my confidence seemed so much worse than the crumpling of my car. I was 21 when I got my license, and I only got it because I was left with no other option. My fear of risking my life, and those in every car I'd meet along the way, was the ball and chain in my quest for freedom in the form of transportation. Now, in the briefest of seconds, it had become my reality. And the worse part about it - it was my fault. Not only was I in a car accident, I was to blame. If you had asked me that day, I would have told you I would be perfectly fine if I never drove another car again. Instead, I woke up the next morning, literally stumbling out of bed because of my injuries, and (cautiously) drove myself to work. Every single person I came in contact with told me I was nuts for not taking the day off. My response was even shocking for me to hear: "The world didn't end." THE WORLD DIDN'T END. I faced one of my biggest fears, and though I have my share of residual pain, the world kept on spinning. And I am going to be just fine.