Vincent Saved Me

5 min readMay 28, 2023
Photo by Alina Grubnyak on Unsplash

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 & walking! Still – my mind was a void.

It was as if a switch had been flipped off those milliseconds. What was worse, I felt – nothing. No loss, no remorse, no longing. It wasn’t until I was hanging pictures in my new home (of course every life challenge must coincide with a move) that the depth of the injury to my once furtile imagination became clear. I emerged from the move wiser, hopefully with added tolerance, and infinitely more in tune with the way my own mind works.

In a way the switch in my brain flipped just as I was reaching adolescence — that was when I was first diagnosed with epilepsy. Not batting an eye at any perceived or real stigma surrounding epilepsy, I have trudged through life undaunted. Certainly I have had the odd hiccup that needed trending to by my neurologist, but nothing to give either of us much worry. In fact, my seizure disorder is considered by my family like most other families view high blood pressure…