Today, my husband had our usual evening events. I taught a lesson at the house, he made some delicious dinner, we chatted, and then we scoured  Hulu & Netflix for a show to watch while we sent out billions of emails. With all of the season finales and breaks around this time of year, we decided to try a new show. Neither one of us knew much about it, but we had seen some advertisements and thought it would be worth a try. The main character was introduced, the writers were setting the story, and then, the unthinkable happened: I had a flashback.

The main character was riding in a car, and then out of nowhere a giant semi truck crashed into his vehicle. My mind was flooded with terror, my ears with the sound of breaking glass and crunching metal, my heart raced, and suddenly all I could do was scream. As the adrenaline pumped through my veins and I let the moment of terror run its course, I was embarrassed and guilt-ridden. I remember feeling the same way during and after the accident. As I was “off-roading it” and thought I was at the end of my life, I remember screaming at the top of my lungs. It was all I could do. I felt helpless, sad, scared, and disappointed in myself that this pitiful sound emanating from my lips was even happening as it did nothing to save me from what may be. In those moments, I so badly wanted to say to my husband on the other end of the line, “I love you! Tell everyone I love them! ” or something that you would imagine a person would say in the end. But me? No. A harrowing scream was it.

It led me to question: What purpose do we have for screaming? I’m sure in some dangerous situations involving wild animals it might be helpful as it might scare the creature away. In other cases, it might be a cry for help or an announcement, “I am in danger! Please come quickly!” Regardless of these useful purposes, I have to say that for my situation, the only thing it did was scare the crap out of the person I love most, my husband. And that, was a terrible feeling. I couldn’t and still can’t shake the guilt of knowing that that sound could have been the last thing he heard from me. I know it was not my fault, but I guess I always assumed I was better than that. I thought we all were.

Despite all of this, I refuse to believe we can be reduced to only animalistic behaviors. It’s too dark to believe. Maybe we have moments of slipping into it, but then we must bounce back higher. We cannot stay there. We have to rise to the light.


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