Vincent Saved Me
The space of approximately two-hundred milliseconds my writing stopped. That’s how long the car crash took that totaled my car, sent me to a trauma sent and upended my life for the last six weeks. I have been amazingly lucky. Not only did I survive, but slowly, I am writing again.
Certainly the first days and weeks were consumed with the trauma of looking like I had lost a bad bar fight AND totaling my new car. I didn’t give much thought to writing. After being off work three weeks, I thought, what a colossal waste of perfectly good story time. My only problem was that no words formed in my mind that were worth sharing - on any level.
No thoughts about the crash, no thoughts about the terror I felt the first time I sat in a car afterwards, no descriptions of my sleepless nights, and certainly nothing remotely close to the typical BDSM writing I usually share. I had become a virtual dessert. What is more I had become apathetic about my inability to write. I continued to work with my doctors and was making steady progress with my recovery – in all areas but my writing. That is an injury I had not broached even with my neurologist. Yet.
Understanding that several months lie ahead before my leg would be recovered, I returned to work three weeks after the crash. All but the deepest bruises had faded, I could sleep again and hey I was alive…
