Finding the Light Through My Deepest Darkness

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My story begins in sixth grade when I found myself becoming more and more disinterested in school. Not just in the academic aspect, but with social circles as well. I found it hard to make friends, and to focus. As time went on I was bullied by my so-called friends. I don’t know if they found me an easy target but it was relentless. Every day at lunch was the same routine. I just sat there and took it, showing no emotion on the outside, but I had no idea how much damage it was actually causing on the inside.

At the beginning of eighth grade, I had a sharp decline in grades and behavior. I started to get into trouble more often and developed a real problem with authority, my parents included. By the time I hit high school, my entire group of friends had shifted and I had no interest in being there at all. I became friends with one kid in particular, whose mother allowed me to skip school and stay at their home, so I rarely went to school at all. I became a strange face to the crowd, a nobody. My declining grades and lack of attendance forced me to retake freshmen year, so I left, never to return. I wanted to be free, to be who I wanted when I wanted.

I started drinking at 16 years old. Everything I did while drinking was to make everyone laugh, to be the life of the party, to escape the real me. Soon after, I ran into trouble with law enforcement. I was such a habitual offender that I was given an option by a judge. I could either go to a Youth Detention Center or try to get my life on track through a youth build project learning a trade while getting my G.E.D. Naturally I chose the career path, who would choose jail? While at the program I was paid for my work, which gave me a sense of independence. I was completely removed from the crowd I was with.

After the nine-month program, I went straight to work. Working helped to continue the sense of independence I craved so much. At 21, I moved in with some new friends. It was a good change, but the drinking and reckless behavior continued from my youth. Parties all the time, driving fast cars, and a general need for adrenaline. This eventually brought me to intentionally drinking and driving for the rush. It was like no other rush I’d ever felt. It was dangerous, and the danger excited me. The more I did it, and more I got away with it, the bolder I became. It only furthered my want to continue doing it every time I came away unscathed.

During this time I met a woman who instantly saw my behavior for what it was, depression. I brushed it off and continued down this treacherous the path. She became my girlfriend and we started a long seven-year relationship with many ups and downs. The drinking eventually led to our demise. After a few months of drinking heavily alone at home, we started to rekindle our relationship when disaster struck. “I’m working late,” I told her one night and went to the bar with the guys on our motorcycles. We drank into the night, far too much. I called my girlfriend and told her I was on my way home and, hopped on my bike. I don’t recall what happened that night, but from what has been told to me, about five miles from my house I passed a police officer at what appeared to be a high rate of speed which started a chase and ended in a crash.

I flew from the bike landing chest down on a stone wall and head first into a tree. The impact shattered my skull on the right side. I was not wearing a helmet. I came to a halt on the stone wall, a portion of my brain lying outside of my skull next to me.

When first responders saw my lifeless body, they assumed the worst. A gurgling sound alerted them that I was still alive. Emergency services called for Med-flight and transported me to an open field. I was picked up and immediately flown to Massachusetts General Hospital for emergency surgery.

Between the time I spoke with my girlfriend to my incision time in the operating room was exactly 1 hour 30 minutes. Upon inspection, I had a lengthy list of injuries. My collar bone, shoulder blade, six ribs, and my skull were all broken. I suffered a brachial plexus injury to my left arm. A skilled neurosurgeon began removing the damaged and exposed portions of my brain. Two days after being sewn up I went into a very serious brain swell and was under the knife again. I had large portions of my parietal and frontal lobe removed. These are responsible for most of the motor control for the left side of one’s body. During the removal process, my optic nerve was damaged, resulting in blindness on the left side of both eyes. In total, I lost 11 pints of blood. I’m sorry to be quite so graphic, but it is in this description that shows what a miracle it is that I am alive.

One month later I awoke to my girlfriend by my side. What a wonderful sight. She explained to me the entire story. My quick response was “I didn’t know they could touch your brain without you dying.” The miracles kept coming, as it was apparent that my memory was not affected, nor my speech. I was discharged to Crotched Mountain Rehab where the miraculous recovery continued. For the next five months, I progressed by leaps and bounds, with my girlfriend quitting her job so that she never had to leave my side. I eventually went home walking with only the use of a cane and started to rebuild my life.

Two years post injury I started to realize that life was not so bad. The life-long depression was somehow eradicated, and life was only getting better and looking up all the time. Now what to do with so much free time? I heard about the Krempels Center—a nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the lives of people living with brain injury from trauma, tumor or stroke—through a mutual friend. I was hesitant but decided to give it a shot. My first visit scared me, and I didn’t go back for my next visit as I was not willing to accept my current state. I spent the next 18 months continuing outpatient rehab, which strengthened me physically and cognitively. It was time to try the Krempels Center one more time.

This time, I fell in love instantly. I wanted to become a member right away. The independence that I was gaining from the Krempels Center is the same independence I had always craved but in a healthy way. I was able to speak to people candidly about my injury, and about the struggles of a new life while getting support and learning so many new things. The Krempels Center challenges me daily with new activities and helps me to see my strengths and weaknesses in a judgment-free atmosphere. I am now just a month shy of my three year anniversary of becoming a member. The love that I felt on day one has only gotten stronger. I am so inspired daily by my recovery, and by the community. I have decided to take the time to educate the public about brain injury and what it means. We are all different, we all have struggles, but in places like this, we are one.

I now live on my own. The strong woman that was by my side is no longer my significant other, but my close and dear friend. My independence grows daily, and I am happier now than I’ve ever been In my life. I have learned so much more in the last five years than in the 27 years prior to my injury, but the best part is that I finally learned how to love myself. I still have yet to find anything bad that has come from this injury. This place has played a major role in that happiness, and I thank you all so much for supporting it. Thank you all.

I have spent the last five years building a life that I want to live and fixing the many years of bad habits and damage from a life that I will never live again. I am finally seeing the true beauties of life and all it has to offer. Things I could never see before. I’ve never gotten anything right the first time around, but I consider myself one of the luckiest because I have learned from every failed attempt and mistake I have made. Now, I take my time to think and plan things through so I don’t repeat them.

Although I’m not back to work yet, I already consider myself more successful in life, not because of money, but because I have found riches through my happiness. I have also realized money isn’t all that important. Especially now that I don’t have to buy materialistic things to fill a void.

So much good has come from this different life that I don’t see what happened to me as an injury anymore, it’s just my life now, and it’s much better than the life I lived before. It’s too bad depression robbed so many years of my youth, but I do believe life wouldn’t be so rewarding and great today without those days. There has been so much good change that I find it hard to miss anything from the old life. The way I have adapted in only five short years fills me with hope and confidence that life will only continue to get better as time goes on.

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Photo: Getty Images