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The Tree of Life.

What a week. 

A really positive few days, back at work, breakthroughs with counseling, feeling pretty good.  It was raining, which I don't mind; because everyone is inside doing nothing.

Then I had a car crash.

I'm ok.  The car's a write off.  It left me standing in a ditch considering how bloody hard making progress is.  When even getting out of bed is an achievement, having to sort out how to get to and from work is medal worthy, and getting a 'new' old car seems an insurmountable barrier.  It's hard not to fall back into the pit of nothing, when life will be so much harder for the next few months.

But.

 I didn't hit the tree.  As I was spinning around, uncontrolled; the parallel to my mental health was unavoidable.  I had lost control.  Crashing was inevitable.  All I could do was watch, and hope I could recover from the damage to come.



I didn't hit the tree.  The slow-motion spin had me fervently hoping I didn't hit the car coming toward me.  That I didn't hit the girl in the opposite ditch who'd spun off earlier than me (it's a slippery corner).  Then the tree was zooming in.  If I hit the tree, it's done.  An accident will be easier for my family to deal with than a suicide.  I'm 'OK' with hitting the tree.  I didn't hit the tree.  The car did.  I didn't.

Now I have to deal with it.  Life.  Struggle.  Fighting the Nothing.  Overcoming the insurmountable.  Dealing.

I'm not religious, and I don't consider myself spiritual either.  I feel deeply pragmatic about most things.  I doubt that Karma exists (or it works far too slowly to be satisfying).  So feeling such a deep certainty that not hitting the tree was A SIGN, is unnerving.  I'm bone-deep convinced it means something. 

So many statistically improbable microseconds led to my survival.  I not only survived.  I walked away.


I have to keep walking.

D

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