Surviving and Thriving after someone was drunk driving...

Life can change in an instant. Twelve years ago, I took my son to spend the day with his Oma and Opa. To have a pool day in the heat of summer, and just let my sweet four-year-old enjoy every moment before it was time for me to go back to teaching, and for him to go back to preschool. The day was truly wonderful. Laughs galore, and memories that will forever live in our hearts. On the way home we stopped at Target to get a few needed items and made our way back to our house. The entire drive (from my parents to my home was about 15 minutes). It was barely 9pm at night. I remember looking to my left as I set my signal to exit the freeway, and my son asked, “momma, are we almost home.” I responded, “Yes baby, almost there.” And then, as if we were cast in a scene from final destination our world exploded. I can still hear my son’s blood-curdling scream. I tried to slam on my brakes while it felt like our car was ripped in half, I was screaming for my son, “baby, are you okay, are you okay baby,” all while trying to bring the car to a stop, but the brakes weren’t responding. My son was screaming for me. After what felt like a lifetime, I was able to slow the car down and come to a stop. My door was jammed by whatever happened and I had to slam my body into it in order to open the door. My son’s door was nonexistent, and I had to pull him over my seat to get him out of the car. I held him so tight, and we dropped to our knees. We were both crying, shaking and totally unaware of what had happened. A woman approached me and asked if we were okay, she must have registered that I was in shock and told me that she witnessed the whole thing and that we were hit by a drunk driver. She said the ambulance and police were on the way and asked if I needed anything. During the impact everything in the car was displaced and I couldn’t find my phone, so thankfully this beautiful soul allowed me to use her phone to call my husband and parents. We stood on the side of the road and saw my van literally smashed and totaled. We survived. My son had asked if he could sit in the very back on the way home and something stirred in my spirit and I told him no, that I didn’t want to move his seat, and it would be faster for him to stay sitting behind me. If he hadn’t been in the seat he was in, he wouldn’t be here today. There was no trunk or back row left. Our minivan was turned into a 4-seat sedan from the impact. In the distance I could see lights and the lady said that two men pulled over with their trucks and blocked the driver in because he was trying to leave. The police, firefighters and ambulance showed up but went to him first, it took about 20 minutes for them to make their way to us after they arrived. They said he didn’t suffer any injuries. They examined us; my sons face was bloody from being hit in the face by something in the car, but he was okay physically, aside from that. They cleaned him up and examined me. My blood pressure was dangerously high, and they wanted to take us by ambulance, but I was already so anxious and just wanted my husband to take us to the hospital. We were there for hours, and I had to sign a waiver to be released.

The police report predicted that he hit us going over 100mph. That on impact he spun out and went into the shoulder, thankfully avoiding all other vehicles, so, by the grace of God, it was just the two of us that were involved. He was 4xs over the legal limit for alcohol and high. When they walked him past us to put him in the police car near us, he was laughing and smiling and saying, “what happened, I’m fine, I can go home.” He had no idea what he had done. The next year would continue to create trauma as him and his attorney did everything to avoid any type of repercussion for his actions. All I wanted was for him to get help, he was only 21 at the time. My son and I sought counseling, which didn’t go too well for us at the time. It was horrible trying to get an appointment to begin with (we had Kaiser at the time), and the wait was long. The intake process and subsequent appointments were anything but helpful, and I began to do my own research on how to help my son. Unfortunately, I was also let go from my private teaching position because of physical limitations due to the accident. I had no idea what to do. I loved teaching and never thought that God might have different plans. As I learned more about play therapy, God put on my heart to pursue a counseling psychology degree. He took what the enemy meant for evil, and He turned it for good. I knew that I never wanted another family or child to go through what we went through when we were looking for help.

That accident happened twelve years ago, and while I live with chronic back and neck pain, and my son and I were both diagnosed with PTSD, panic disorder and generalized anxiety, I am beyond thankful that God had plans for our lives. Not everyone is able to walk away from these accidents. In the US alone, 29 people die every day due to intoxicated driving. That is 1 death every 50 minutes. Sadly only 1% of people who drive under the influence will ever face any kind of consequence for their actions. Twelve years later and we are still impacted by this “accident,” that could have so easily been avoided had this young man made a different decision. As crazy as it might sound, I thank God that he hit us and not a family in a smaller vehicle. That it was only us involved in that accident. And I still pray that he was able to turn his life around and find hope, help, and healing.

There are so many options these days. No one has to drive under the influence. And we need to do better and not allow others to engage in these behaviors. I am not sure what the answer is, but I know too many people personally that have suffered greatly because of drivers who are under the influence. There is help and hope. There are programs and people who care enough to help those struggling with addiction or risky behaviors.

When I look back at the picture I am transported to that moment, and while it is a moment I wish I could forget, its one that will be with me for the rest of my life. I am blessed to be here today. To have my son and to continue to share this testimony. The enemy meant to kill us that day, but God made beauty from the ashes.

This is part of my story. And it is what brought me to find my own help and healing. It allowed me to connect with wonderful colleagues and create a path for myself that allows me to help people every day. I am so honored and privileged to work with all my clients and to help them write stories they love for themselves. I know that life can change in an instant, and I do not take that for granted.

If you or someone you know is struggling call or text 988 or call 211 for local resources. There are also plenty of celebrate recovery programs, AA, and invitation to change programs.

A Letter From A Therapist...

This is a time like no other. We are all facing uncharted territory and trying to stay afloat amidst a chaotic sea of doubt, fear, worry, panic and isolation. We are told to refrain from connection (person-to-person contact), which is so life-giving to so many. We can no longer walk trails or beaches, which provides an outlet for nature lovers and reprieve from the constant day-to-day stressors. We are not allowed to gather with family, friends, our churches. Many have lost their jobs. Kids are not allowed to go to school. There are shortages everywhere. The medical community continues to cry out for us to stay home, and many of them feel as though they are sinking.

We have never seen this before. We have never known this particular struggle. Many of us were completely blindsided; not because others knew this was coming, but because most of us never thought something like this would. As I sit here and write this, I am still trying to reconcile all that is going on.

Virus— Pandemic— No Cure— Shortages— Isolation— Loss— Grief

As a therapist I can tell you that no two days are alike for me either. That’s what grief does to you. Some days you have reached acceptance, and others you face denial or bargaining; others still, you are angry or depressed. Some days I can go about, and it almost appears as though nothing is out of sorts, nothing from the outside world can penetrate the bubble of safety I have created in my home. Other days I grieve deeply. For the loss of human life, the loss of financial security, the loss of physical/emotional safety, the loss of consistent meals for so many, families being separated, the loss of large events like graduations and weddings, the loss of plans, the loss of aspirations and dreams, the loss of freedoms we so often took for granted. I grieve for these losses so deeply and my heart aches as I pray for a cure; I pray for total healing and restoration. As I navigate through this with my clients, I can’t help but feel that things are different right now. Many of my sessions, like most others I assume, are about what we are experiencing. There is a loss for words, and silence has become more normal in sessions. But even in that silence I hold hope.

You see, the only thing bigger than fear is faith. And I have faith that we will pull through this. Not unscathed. Not unchanged. Not without exponential loss. Not without grief.

But we will pull through.

I am not only holding hope for my clients anymore, I am also holding it for myself, my family, my friends, my faith community, other clinicians… I feel like I often hold hope for everyone and anyone that needs me to. But I want you to know something, I am hurting too. I see you. I see the deep grievances you face, and it hurts me. I see the uncertainty as we meet through video sessions, and it pains me. I see the fear in your words through our correspondences and I worry for you.

I worry that I was not trained for this. I was not trained to walk you through a pandemic. I was not trained to know what to say, what to do, what to give you in this moment. And if I said I was, I would be lying. This is new to me too. Every day I am learning. Every day I am relying on my intuition and my knowledge to help me piece things together. Every day I remember why you might be feeling this way, why emotions might be magnified. And I ache for you. My heart breaks that you are facing triggers you haven’t in a long time. My heart breaks that anxiety is heightened and depression is magnified. My heart breaks that you have to face yet another tragedy, that you are walking through more trauma.

Please know, my heart breaks for you.

But I want to turn this around now, I want you to see all the things that I am seeing too. I want you to know my heart in this, because if we can’t be vulnerable now, I don’t know when we ever will be.

·         While I was not trained for this, I am here for you.

·         We are experiencing this trauma together, so like I always tell you, everyone’s trauma threshold and response is different. You can lean on me.

·         I will always hold hope for you.

·         You will once again find hope for yourself.

·         This will not last forever.

·         We will get through this.

·         I know you feel stuck, and that your emotions are heightened right now, but you do have amazing new coping skills that you can utilize.

·         Feelings are not facts, and you know how to remind yourself of truths.

·         Your progress is not derailed.

·         Regression is a normal state of progress. Read that again.

 When we face uncertainties, we can often become disoriented; feeling as though we are not truly certain of anything but our fear. But fear is a liar. We are not held captive by fear unless we allow it to hold us captive. We can choose to see things differently. It is not always an easy choice to make, but you do have the power to do it.

I want to remind you (or equip you) of some coping skills you can use. I think its great for all of us to have these in our toolboxes.

Deep Breathing:

Find a quiet place, sit comfortably, close your eyes. Take a deep breath in through your nose for 5, hold for 6, and exhale through your mouth for 7. Repeat 3xs.

Grounding:

5 things you can see

4 things you can touch

3 things you can hear

2 things you can smell

1 thing you can taste

Mindfulness:

I want you to find a safe and comfortable space and either sit or lay down (it can either be in a quiet room or with your favorite music playing softly in the background). I want you to visualize a place of complete serenity. I want you to picture all the different colors you see, the landscape or place you are in, what does it look like? What can you touch? What can you hear? Is anyone with you or are you alone? What can you smell? What can you taste? I want you to visualize yourself in this space. I want you to feel yourself completely free of worries, fears and doubts. I want you to take some deep breaths and tell yourself you are safe. You can stay in this place for however long you would like. When you are ready you can open your eyes.

Follow up activity: find a picture or create a picture that reminds you of this place and hang it somewhere you will see it often and be reminded that you can utilize mindfulness to reset and feel safe again.

Other effective coping skills:

·         Healthy sleep and eating

·         Journaling

·         Being creative

·         Connecting (phone/video/email/text) with people you love

·         Exercise (wear a mask outdoors or find fun stuff to do inside, dance parties are awesome!)

·         Read a good book/listen to music/watch your favorite movie/tv show

·         Practice self-care (a warm shower/bath, spa day at home, a cup of coffee with the fireplace on…this can be anything that is healthy for you and makes you feel good).

Above all what I hope this message conveyed to you, is that you are not alone. We are all in this together, and that there will always be people who care and want to hold hope for you. I would be lying if I said this was easy, and I wanted to share my heart today and let you know I am worried too. But what I also know is that worry is like a rocking chair, we go back and forth but we never get anywhere. Its okay to sit in the chair sometimes, because sometimes we just need to acknowledge our worries. But worrying can not add anything to your life, it just takes all the good things away. I needed you to know that I have been spending time in this chair too, and that it is normal. I do not want you to judge yourself right now (or ever really). I want you to acknowledge your feelings. To be present. To be mindful. I want you to practice your coping skills and self-care. I want you to reach out. But more than anything, I want you to be well. I want you to be safe. I want you to be thriving.

There is so much pain and heartache right now, but there is also so much hope and healing taking place. I see it all around me too. I see people connecting in ways they haven’t before, faith becoming stronger, communities pulling together while distanced. I see people doing the hard thing and staying home, staying away from those they love BECAUSE they love them. I see all the “essential” workers and that they continue to show up and be present for us all. While we might be distanced physically, I am not sure we have ever been closer emotionally.

To whomever needs to hear this right now, I want you to know you are loved, valued, treasured and cherished. Your life matters. You have a purpose greater than you know, and there are people who deeply care about you and your well-being.

Its okay to be tired. Its okay not to have a schedule. Its okay to eat ice cream for dinner (maybe not all the time 😉). Its okay to do nothing. Its okay to stay busy. Its okay to talk on the phone. Its okay to ignore a phone call. Right now, in this moment, I want you to give yourself permission to do a self-check-in and to write down everything you have been holding inside. Then drop your shoulders, breathe deeply and release the tension.

Remember this, it is always one day at a time, but sometimes we have to take it moment by moment too.

This is new. This is scary. But I see you. I hear you. I feel you. And we are in this together.

Lovingly,

Melani Samples