The Day After Tomorrow...

Ok, so the title doesn't really work...I know. I was just trying for some wit after yesterday's (oh, what's the word...) verbal diarrhea? Well, I suppose sometimes you swing and miss (ummm...tangent thought: will I continue to riddle this project with baseball metaphors?).

So. Where to go from here? Well, first I am tweaking my goal. Yesterday's post was clearly an all-out unloading of my pent-up emotion onto paper (or whatever you want to call this digital medium). After I hit the 'Publish Post' button, I mean, IMmediately after, I sucked in (and let out) the biggest sigh of relief. That's not to say that I didn't make some merit-worthy points. It was just a little overcooked as I looked at it in the light of day.

I just realized that I'll never ever find an answer to the question I have formed. No one can get a definitive answer as to why they survived an accident (or anything else along those lines), unless you simply list all of the lucky circumstances and the subsequent repair work done to you (i.e. a purely medical rescue point of view). I mean, I am perfectly willing to concede that some people do have religious miracles which give them verse to the meaning of such events and more, but we all know that's not typical.

With that in mind, I find it necessary to reform my purpose. Yes. I want to know why I survived. I will always want to know this, and I would be willing to bet that most, if not all, people who have walked this path have searched for this answer, at least within themselves. I mean, this is a question that has come out of my mouth so many times as I cried myself to sleep or just plain sobbed in misery due to pain.

But as I set out to answer this question I had failed to do an important thing. I forgot that I should have looked back at myself and asked, with deeper concentration, where I wanted to be after I found my answer. I mean, what does that scenario look like? What is it that I really want here?

And through that, I quite suddenly know that I don't need to understand the divine secrets of the universe. When I look at the desired end result I find that I want to be able to stop sobbing while beating my head repeatedly against this question's unobtainable nature. I want to be at peace with the fact that I survived...to come to grips with it. As I sit back and ponder that one, I am now thinking that in the end, I'm not sure it matters why...so long as I can be ok with the fact that I did.

And who knows? We (friends, family and I) have all said, over and over for months and months, that it clearly wasn't my time to go--that there was some other purpose for me--something I was still meant to do (or learn, as I previously stated). Somewhere deep down I have always felt that I would find my way to this answer (if it was, in fact, something to be found). Perhaps I will discover this during my journey to come to grips with my survival.

I am quite proud of myself for this revelation. I mean, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to self-analysis...I think people who are capable of such a thing have a rare gift. Yet, I am certain that this is what I need to do...because if I am at peace with my survival...if the knot is no longer there...if I can once again watch shows like I Shouldn't Be Alive without trauma...if I can be in a car without a sharp level of panic when the driver takes his concentration away from the road for even a nanosecond...if I am able to [insert text here]. Because if I can achieve that, I will have paved the road to move on with my life. Hmmmm...