Closet door shut tightly so as to seal in the deep depression. The very essence of my idea of self was in question, which was unthinkable to me. Driving pass a tree I would make a mental note of its girth, strength and ability to stop a truck permanently. Is there enough room to gain sufficient speed? What if someone is coming the other way? The drive down a winding mountain road would become a checklist of where guardrails were lacking. How steep a drop-off is beyond the grey, smooth pavement? Could the truck sail far enough to over ride the effectiveness of landing in shrubs? Deep within the answer was patiently awaiting the ultimate question. Why could I not ask it? Am I so scared of the possibilities that I would rather live in a state of denial?

The invitation to a holiday party seemed a welcome relief. Let yourself soar, if only for an evening. The half-hour drive was on small, rough country roads. My companion, Pfizer, rode with me as he always did. With a mere mile or so to go, my burden felt lighter as I anticipated the gathering of friends. Perhaps my place in this world would become clearer and the door would creak open and give a glimpse to a happier existence. Thoughts of the evening were circulating around the cerebellum when lights appeared off to my right. The young, non-licensed driver would later tell the police: “I thought I could make it”. He didn’t. With his girlfriend beside him, he drove his upscale Toyota 4Runner through the stop sign without so much as a thought of consequences. My lower level 4Runner was traveling a little over 50mph when it T-boned the young, reckless man’s truck.

Just before impact I yelled to Pfizer to lie down, and thought to myself that this is how it is all going to end. The collision was brutal. On impact Pfizer was thrown from the rear of the vehicle to against the front windshield, looking like a deadly version of the Garfield stick on toy. My chest was crushed by the seatbelt, and I sustained an irregular, slow heartbeat for several weeks after. The front of my truck collapsed and the frame buckled from the intense impact. My head whipped violently  backwards with such impact the headrest folded rearward while I lost consciousness. The steady blare of my battered truck’s horn woke me up. Pfizer wasn’t moving. Pain coursed through my body as I attempted to get a grasp of the situation. The other vehicle was surrounded by fluid and the passengers were trapped. My door had to be shoved open, which only gained me more pain. Without being fully conscious I managed my way to the nearest home and banged on the white front door. An old man asked what I wanted and I said I needed to use the phone as I was just in an accident. Fearful of treachery, he wouldn’t let me in and instead said he would call the police. The walk back is lost in memory cells I can’t access. Pain increased with distance. Too weak to do anything more, I opened the passenger side and slid back into unconsciousness.