Fifty-Four
A freezing ride through rain, hail, and wind should have been the story of my birthday weekend. Instead, somewhere between New Mexico and Colorado, I realized something far more important: after a lifetime of surviving, I've finally given myself permission to be happy.
We Speak the Same Language
There are some things in life that can't be explained. They can only be understood by someone who's walked the same road. After years of believing recovery was a path I had to walk alone, I finally met someone who already spoke the language my soul had been trying to translate.
The Quiet After The Storm
After a week of relying on others for even the smallest necessities, I finally find myself alone in a quiet house — the first real silence since the accident. I’m grateful, I’m hurting, and I’m oddly hopeful. This silence is a reminder of what freedom used to feel like, and what it might feel like again. But staying away from the anger that keeps clawing at me? That’s the struggle I face every damn day.