my first attempt to write this blog post three weeks ago ended in tears. not cute, pretty, quiet tears. sobs that originated from deep in my gut, tears that turned my face bright red and splotchy (like it usually does)... i sat alone in the bonus room at the end of our quiet, sleeping house, trying not to wake anyone with tears i could not explain.
i knew that i felt deeply sad, lonely... and hurting. and maybe even afraid? but i could not put any reason or logic to those feelings beyond the fact that i assumed they correlated with being home, and consequently, not being on DTS anymore.
in the wee hours of thursday, september 22nd, i came home. my plane touched down in portland, oregon, and i walked through the one-way doors to be met by my mom, sisters, best friend and grandma, holding the wonderful, cheesy, homemade 'welcome home' signs everyone hopes to see upon arriving home after six months away. six of my favorite girls on the planet scooped me up (not literally, for i tower over all of them) and drove me home and tucked me in bed. my best friend stayed the night and only my profound exhaustion from having traveled for over 15 hours curtailed our conversation.
i was home. and it was oh, so delightful.
two days laters, i found myself staring into the headlights of a pickup truck, speeding towards us as if the stop sign didn't exist. i didn't even have time to react before he hit us. the authorities think he easily could have been going nearly 50 miles per hour.
i will never forget the feeling of being hit, of my forehead hitting the window, of the subsequent impacts, of my body being tossed around, my seatbelt undoubtedly saving me innumerable injuries, of navigating the aftermath as my pulse pounded and adrenaline roared through my system, temporarily shielding me from the pain of my injuries.
God was oh, so gracious to us.
what could have easily been a fatal accident wasn't. my sister received the worst of the impact and will continue to face a long and difficult recovery from this, her second severe concussion in five months, but she is alive. she can walk and talk, feed and dress herself, still play the piano and guitar and bass masterfully. this second concussion took much from her; her first semester at community college being high on that long list. but i cannot think or speak of the accident without gratitude. my minor concussion only truly affected my every day life for about a month after the fact. i was told by my chiropractor today that i am making excellent overall recovery and can ease off on the many appointments that had been keeping me in one piece. my friend, who was driving, continues to experience symptoms of concussion, but she too will make a full recovery in time.
God's grace and protection is perfectly obvious to me. it's as if his hand came between us and the offending vehicle. i am simply extraordinarily grateful.
exactly one week after the accident, my best friend married one of my other dearest friends, who is like a brother to me. the wedding was wonderful and exhausting, and by the end of the day i was spent, in pain, relieved that my maid of honor speech hadn't crashed and burned, and desperate to climb into bed and sleep off whatever emotions i couldn't then handle.
one goes through a lot during DTS. what is not so often talked of is how one's family will also 'go through a lot' in those six months, as well. adjusting to everything that had transpired in my absence was much more difficult than i anticipated.
i was racked with anxiety as i considered the future, what i was supposed to do with my life now, as i struggled through each day, simultaneously shocked and dismayed by how inexpressibly hard it was adjusting to being home.
anxiety alternated with depression. mentally, i felt completely in pieces. emotionally i was perfectly unstable and would find myself crying in any random moment of the day for any reason, or none at all. physically i was in pain and felt beaten down.
that night, as i sat in my puddle of tears and confusion and the clock silently wound past midnight, towards the morning, i wondered, was it worth it? was DTS really worth such a dreadful crash?
the mountaintop lasted twenty four weeks. i never could have prepared myself for what it meant to return to the valley.
DTS was wonderful. and i can confirm that it was, indeed, worth it. but the aftermath is painful. it is quite nearly as difficult as DTS itself. it requires much more of me than i expected. it asks of me questions i cannot answer.
and i have to learn to let the silence linger.
i took the job opportunities that God provided. i stopped torturing myself with insistence on discovering the future. i continued to remind myself, 'one day at a time.' i have to force myself to reach out for accountability, encouragement, for reminders of the wonderful things God did and is continuing to do.
life after DTS is HARD.
so naturally, i'm going to do a series about it. ;) i decided that if it's hard for me, it's most likely hard for everyone else, too. perhaps if we share the struggle and the victory with one another, we'll make it a little easier, with a little less confusion and a lot more hope.
i'm calling the series 'life in the valley: surviving the aftermath of DTS' this is the first installment.
YWAMer or not, i hope a peek into the journey of returning home yet resisting returning to old habits will encourage and bolster you.
it sure is a relief to get it all written down. :)
big love,
emma
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