Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 17 years ago, I lost the life I once knew, but in the process re-created a better me. I am alive and functional today because of my dog, my treatment team, my sobriety, and my willingness to re-create myself within the confines of this illness. I hate the illness, but I'm grateful for the person I've become and the opportunities I've seized because of it. I hope writing a depression blog will reduce stigma and improve the understanding and treatment of people with mental illness. All original content copyright to me: etta. Enjoy your visit!

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

In an instant

I just returned home from work. My route home includes 20 miles on a very busy commuter highway, and that's the problem. It's a highway, not a freeway, with a speed limit of 65 miles per hour, though most of us, including me, travel a bit over 70. And since it's a highway there are numerous county roads which intersect with it. It's dangerous, as the vehicles entering from the side roads do not do so at 70 miles per hour. Unfortunately, I witnessed the aftermath of the danger first hand tonight.

I knew from the number of emergency vehicles something terrible must have happened. As I approached the accident scene I saw two incredibly mangled cars in the median. It appeared one vehicle had t-boned the other at a very high rate of speed. The t-boned vehicle was without a roof. It appeared it had been removed by the emergency responders. Thankfully, I arrived after the occupants had been removed, but my heart sank.

Before I made it home I learned at least one person was killed and another was flown via helicopter to Mayo Clinic. I've had a difficult time getting the image of those two cars out of my head. I can almost see the accident in my head. But what's most on my mind is the families of these two people. This accident scene reminded me life can change in an instant. An instant...

When we were teenagers, my step sister left the house and never returned. I can still hear her chirp goodbye as she bounced down the back steps. Within 20 minutes, she was hit and killed by a truck.  I'm sure the victim in this accident did not leave their house thinking they would never return. I'm certain their loved ones didn't have such a thought either. But for at least one family, life forever changed today. I feel sad about that.

Though you may think it cliche, I'm going to say it anyway. Seeing this accident scene reminded me I need to tell those around me I care, and I need to do it in the moment. I have a lot to be grateful for, and there are a lot of people who make my life worth living. (Feel free to remind me of this the next time I sink into the depths of despair.) Nobody's time here is guaranteed. I need to remember that.

1 comment:

paullamb said...

I was driving to my cabin one morning, looking forward to a day of frolicking in the woods, when I came to a busy intersection in one of the towns I had to pass through. It was clogged with emergency vehicles, and there on the ground was the driver of a car nearby. The EMT was doing chest compressions on the man. It was a horrible thing to witness so suddenly. I'm sure that man's family was changed that day too.

You're right: it is a peculiar feeling to think that one can go out the door at any time and never return, that this will be the day. But I suppose you just have to go out the door, despite that possibility, with the intention of returning. (Sort of like falling into a depressive episode, trying hard to accept/believe that I will come out on the other side eventually.)



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