Impact: House Arrest

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

House Arrest

the idea is to keep me a semi-liberated prisoner,
prevented from leaving the country,
when actually I don’t want to leave the house.
I’m a prisoner inside my own head,
captive of grief and self-torment,
paranoid that every person outside will spit on me.

1 comment:

JennyAugust 8, 2009 at 8:54 PM
Hi. I received your comment on my blog tonight and I came over and read all of this blog and looked at your other blog too. Your work is incredible. I am so so sorry that this happened to you- but I am glad you are talking and writing about it- I know it will help you to heal.
I have finally begun to really heal from my trauma and I feel like I am finally just now starting to be able to think about the traumas that other people go through. I would like to write something about your blog on my own- just a short post I guess- and include a link to your blog- please let me know if that is ok. My email is artconstellation AT gmail.com and please fell free to contact me any time.
I am glad you are reading the "Parasites of the Mind" blog... it has helped me a lot. I will be reading your blog- your words and your images- and thinking of you. Jenny
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About IMPACT

I started this blog to help myself process an unimaginable tragedy: At a few minutes after 8AM on February 3, 2009, my Nissan Pathfinder hit two pedestrians, sisters, and killed them. My memory starts with the airbags slamming into me.

I am shaking and nauseous writing this.

I was living in Nicaragua, where the roads are filled simultaneously with pedestrians, bicycles, horse-carts, moto-cabs, dogs, all manner of freight trucks from rickety pick-ups to 18-wheelers, ancient US school buses, and mini-buses and taxis determined to economize fuel by never stopping. Under Nicaraguan law drivers in accidents where someone is hurt badly are all jailed for at least 24 hours.

No one knows what caused my accident, although my brother discovered that Nissan had issued a Technical Advisory to mechanics' shops on my year and model because the airbags were detonating spontaneously. As my car was one of the very few with airbags in the country, no one, not even the Nissan dealer repair shop, had ever mentioned anything. I will never know if fault lies with the faulty airbags, and the not knowing is terrifying.

All traumas are unique. Our human reactions to trauma have traits in common. Though everyone will have their own path toward healing, I am certain we can help one another by sharing, witnessing, and affirming.

I have also been diagnosed with bipolar disorder type II, which means I miss the fun (ha!) of full-blown mania. I have suffered from severe recurrent depression and anxiety since I was a teenager.