Fear is inevitable. You simply can’t avoid it. So I guess it's safe to say that when I experienced the most frightening event of my life, I was faced with heaps of it. You never quite know when you’re going to go through a moment that you’ll always look back on. Or a moment that’s going to change your perspective on life. And that's what fear does. Too much of it changes you. I had no idea what this specific type of fear was capable of doing to me, until after I experienced it.

Let me enlighten you some background knowledge. I have always had anxiety. Not your usual butterflies and nervous feeling that one gets when they are anxious about a big meeting. I’m talking big anxiety. The other type of anxiety. The type that consumes you. But I didn’t know that my anxiety could become as bad as it did, until after the fear that this one particular night caused within me.

So here it is. The big fear. I got into a car accident. And not your average rear end fender-bender. A major car accident. The kind that shakes you up and takes a piece of you with it. Because as dramatic as it sounds, I know that I am not the same person I was prior to the accident. I know that car accidents are not of rare. They happen all the time and everywhere. But the truth is, I never expected for it to happen to me. But most importantly, I didn’t expect the way the fear would come to change my thinking; the way it would completely rewire my brain to whole new levels of my anxiety disorder.

At this point my life is split into two halves, me before my car accident, and me after. The ironic part is that at 8pm on October 15, 2018, I was already at a low point of my life. I was caught asking myself, could it get any worse? My mental health had been put to test after test and the days dragged on as I felt purely empty. I had finally gotten the courage to go out of the house and be with my friends. I had gone to dinner at Zias with my friends Georgia and Jolie and we returned back to Jolie’s house. The night was good. I felt a less stuck in my daily routine than I had been when alone with my sad self and thoughts for weeks in a row. I left her house and got inside my car, which at the time was my childhood car: a 2006 silver Honda Pilot. The second I got onto the road, it was less than a minute before we collided. Driving down Dee Road thinking about the reasons I had been so down, before I knew it a car had turned left in front of me. The first thing I felt was anger. I figured I’d just break abruptly and give them the finger and move on with my night. I hit the break with all of my strength but it was not enough. This was when my anger turned into fear. My breaking turned into me slamming into them. I don’t have words to describe that feeling. And the feeling that takes over your body the second collision occurs. It’s safe to say that I will never forget it. I will never forget the sight of the airbags flying at me upon impact. I will never forget smacking my chin on the top of my steering wheel. I will never forget how bad the airbags smell after they deploy and no matter how hard I try, I will never ever forget the feeling of shock that took over my body once I realized what had happened.

Climbing my way out of the car staring at the sight that had just occurred, it felt as though my life was going past me in slow motion. If you have ever seen the movie If I Stay, one of the many thoughts racing through my brain was the images from a scene where after their family gets into a major car accident, the main character Mia seems frozen in time as she looks around with a dropped jaw at the horrific sight of the pain that had been caused. When I watched that movie when I was younger, I was shocked at that part. It seemed unreal. But it hits a different way when that girl is you. So many thoughts were running through my mind at this moment. And all I could hear, was the sound of the car horn blaring and booming against my eardrums, as the unconscious driver from the other car was pressed up against the wheel. Looking closer, I realized she was an older lady and I felt heartbroken. I had tried to go up to her and see if she was okay but I couldn’t speak. I felt like I was frozen. All I could see was a man who emerged from across the street trying to help her. But I felt as though I was a block of ice. Frozen in the sense that I did not know what to do with myself, and physically shivering from the trauma.

I had heard stories about people who feel fine after car accidents, but end up with unknown internal bleeding issues. I read somewhere not to move after an accident like that in case there are problems internally. But when my sympathetic nervous system kicked in along with the fight or flight instinct, I had no choice but to try to fight. Because honestly, I thought that I was going to die. The adrenaline masked the feeling of pain and I remember telling myself to just hold on and stay awake until I call 911. I was convinced that I was going to pass out. I called but I could not hear when they picked up, due to the sound of the horn, and the call somehow failed. I quickly texted my mom and said “got in accident on Jolie’s street, I’m fine I think”. I looked to my left and saw a girl who looked about my age looking out her window, clearly shocked at the sound of the collison. As I approached her door to ask for her to assist me in calling 911, a man approached me. He asked me if I knew that my headlights weren’t on and told me that he was about to flash his lights at me but it was too late. My heart sunk. My car did not have auto lights. I was new to having a license and constantly found myself forgetting to turn them on. I had even joked to myself that morning about making a sign that said “turn your headlights on.” I went to the girls door, begging her to call 911 as I tried to call again, this time going through. We both told the police where we were and they said they would sent help over.

The next couple minutes are a complete blank in my mind. I don’t remember what I did from the time I called the police, to the time the ambulance arrived. I somehow managed to text my friend Georgia, who I was with at dinner, that I had just gotten in a very bad accident. The ambulance arrived and took the older lady onto a stretcher. They asked me if I needed to go to the hospital too. And I knew that I should have. But I also knew how expensive ambulances are. I mean, would you do it? If you had just gotten into a huge car accident, if you knew it would already cost your family so much, would you be more of a financial burden?

My parents came speeding down the street and got out and comforted me. All I could say was how sorry I was. That was our family car that we have had for over a decade and I had ruined it. Before I knew it, Georgia and Jolie seemed to had come from out of nowhere and hugged me as I cried. I cried out for the lady that I had hit. For the two cars that I had totaled. And for the fear from the emotional trauma I had just been a part of.

The police issued me a ticket and a court date. Shortly after people came out of their houses to offer me their help. They gave me water and asked me if I was okay and if there is anything they could do. And was I okay? No. I was not in any way. And I knew I wouldn’t be for awhile. It’s odd that I was so low a couple hours prior to the accident, dwelling on everything. I was so certain nothing could make me feel worse. But all that disappeared the second I entered that fight or flight mode. And at that point I’d give anything to rewind a couple of hours.

The drive home felt much emptier than I had for the weeks before the accident. My fingers were badly burned due to the friction of rubbing against my steering wheel cover at impact. When I got home I cried. I cried until I could not feel anymore. Not being sure if I had a concussion, I tried to stay off my phone, despite the heartwarming and comforting texts from friends. Falling asleep was painful. I don’t know how to describe the fear of going to bed, being convinced that I won’t wake up and that I would die in my sleep. Going to bed having to fear that I had just killed someone. Going to bed with an ample amount of fear running through my veins. I woke up multiple times throughout the night, feeling nauseous. When I had finally made it to the next morning, my body ached with soreness. All over. Where the airbag had hit was nothing but pure pain. Along with the aching I felt emotionally. I was so worried that something was wrong with me internally, so we went to the doctor and I got checked out. They said it did not seem as though I had a concussion, and that I was alright. They said I was lucky. But I sure as hell did not feel lucky. Out there, was a lady that I had put in the hospital, and I didn’t even know the update on how she was doing. And all I came out with was a sore body and burned fingers.

In the end, I never found out details on how the older lady was doing. I was simply told not to contact her and that she ended up alright. The days after the accident were spent with friends bringing me ice cream and trying their best to cheer me up. But all I could seem to do was sit in my room, stare out the window and cry. I truly felt broken. I had never experienced this type of fear before. Fear that nothing would ever feel normal again. And this type of fear feels like no other.

But the true fear came after. It came from what stemmed from this accident. The anxiety. I never knew the toll that an accident could take on someone.

I didn’t expect to be flashed back to the horrific sight constantly. I didn’t expect to lose my breath and feel my heart pounding out of my chest at the simple sight of a car yielding to turn left. I didn’t expect to be jolted awake night after night, by recurring nightmares. I didn’t expect to fully break down the first time I returned behind the wheel.

In fact, even just writing this makes me panic.

Because this is the type of fear that you don’t want to remember. The type you’d rather not recall. The kind you probably would rather not write about either. But what good does keeping it in do?

The worsened anxiety did not stop. I started to feel an immense amount of fear, even more than I had before. I started to feel nauseous and dizzy all the time, like I had in the middle of the night after the accident. I’d feel nauseous and an uncomfortable amount of anxiety every morning, every night, every single time I ate, and every time I set foot in a car. It has become quite unbearable for me these past months.

Since the accident, I live my life in the fear, the anxiety, and the constant worry that something is going to happen to me.  I get anxious over everything. I’m slowly learning to manage the anxious feeling. It’s a vicious cycle every day and has been holding me back from things that “me before my car accident” would’ve been able to do. Even simple things like going out with my friends or making it through the first few periods of the school day, which is when my anxiety is at its peak, has become much harder. And I can’t help but trace it back to the fearful day of my car accident. I am not the same person that I was then and I am well aware that as hard is it is to take control of your worries, fear should not be the one to hold you back. True fear changes people.

I wish I could end this by saying that I took away this huge life lesson from my car accident, and yes, I did take away quite a few; but the truth is I am still learning to live with the fear. The fear that I have already overcome, and the fear and anxiety that I am being confronted with now.