Monuments and Melodies

 I just finished up a fairly productive afternoon.  I made the reservation for the camping/hiking/biking trip I am taking to Jim Thorpe in a month.  A long weekend of biking and hiking that I have been looking forward to all summer.  Finished up my first assignment in my online History Class, sent an email to the artist who did my tattoo to see about an appointment for my next one and caught up on some chores around the house like laundry and that pile of dishes in the sink.  My love of Pandora radio grows with each passing week.  It makes it easy to forget about the anniversary I just observed yesterday....

Last night around 1045-1100 was exactly two years to the day of the accident that almost cost me my life.  I blacked out after excessively drinking at my friends house, climbed into my car and attempted to drive home.  One minute I'm sitting at a table doing shots with my friends, the next I am running down the road bleeding and confused, scared, determined to make it home. 

I have saved this picture because along with the scar on my arm it is a reminder of what I allowed to happen.  The irresponsible behavior which put me in that position.  My disregard for my own well being, that devil may care attitude which almost took my life or someone else's.  The self destructiveness that almost destroyed me.  All of these things and more.

Two years later, I can look at this picture and I know that all those things were destroyed just like my car that night.  It took a while for me to realized that.  One of the things that I always struggled with was talking about things that bothered me.  To almost anyone.  My closest friends, girlfriends, my family, I tried to keep everything to myself and just deal with it, or bury it deep and move on as if it wasn't an issue at all.  But those demons always get to you in the end.  You accumulate enough skeletons in your closet and before you know it there's not enough room to hide them anymore.  This is still something I struggle with at times, but I am aware of it and I work at it.  Writing has helped a lot.  It is good for the soul to clean out the closet and clear your conscience. 

I spent some time last night with a friend of mine that I haven't seen much of in a while.  We baked brownies, drank some tea and talked for hours.  It was perfect.  She is an amazing person and probably one of the only people who ever knew about some of those demons of my past.  I had a falling out with her and didn't speak to her for almost a year and it was over something stupid and was highly influenced by the girl I was seeing at the time.  But last night we sat around talking like we always have and it felt great.  It really makes me appreciate the people that I have in my life and the importance of making sure you take care of those relationships and don't abuse them.  Never throw them away over something stupid. 

So two years removed from that fateful night, I am a much better person.  I see it in every aspect of my life now.  I have never felt stronger or more confident in myself.  As I move on with my life I will continue to build on that, striving to better myself.  But I will never get rid of this picture, and I am glad that I carry that scar on my arm to remind me of where I have come, and where I am going.