The last thing I expected while sorting things out for my taxes was sharp reminders of the car accident. Sorting through receipts for the art& framing I was doing that week, going through the mileage for professional events before & after, just recognizing the dates struck me with dread and renewed grief and anger. I lost a lot of professional momentum that day. Slightly more than 6 months later, I'm still working on recovering my professional capacities and productivity. And myself, which as a creative type is kinda tangled up in those professional & productive things.
And it pisses me off. Yeah, I've learned to live with it, but it pisses me off that I've had to learn to live with it. And I know it could have been much much worse. I'm really grateful it wasn't, yet I'm still pissed off.
It manifests as a sort of "I miss my car!" expression, but that's not really what I want back (tho' I did like it and it did suit my style). I'm happy with my current car, and grateful a friend had it to sell to me for a song & a dance. But "I miss my car!" is my mask, easier to express than "I miss how I was before all this." I miss being whole.
Or at least as close as I was before it happened! :p
And I've made lots of progress, though with several speedbumps, as well as reassurances that it all just needs time. I know it could have been worse. But it could have been better and not happened at all.
(below: not my car. Mine was not nearly so dramatic. No glass broke, unless you count brake light plastic as glass-like enough. I do have pictures, but I'm actually just not up for posting the reality tonight)
author / artist rambles on about painting, writing, cats, punk rock, vampires, ska-core, mTBI, comics, and life in general.