Tired

                                                              TIRED



Many of you probably have heard of my misfortunes from somebody else other then myself.  Slowly trickling through the grapevine of our tight knit community.  A community I love, participate in, am proud to bring my children up in.   But recently I heard an amazing misconception, that  made my heart sink.  It reminded me of the game we used to play as kids called "Telephone", where one person starts out with a sentence or a phrase and passes it around a circle of "friends"  and the last person repeats what they had thought they heard.   It always amazes me the outcome of the final phrase.  It is nothing like the real story.  Normally, one would then ask the person who thought of the phrase, what the original phrase was...to everyone's surprise it was nothing like the end result.

This is my story, there should be no variations, sorry if it is not exciting enough for a few of those thrill seekers, or that someone else was not getting the attention they wanted, or that if perhaps my story was being told while I wasn't there to answer the questions, the facts could not be spoken.  I am here to set the record straight.

I was driving home around 11:00 from a most amazing and beautiful wedding my family and I had the pleasure of witnessing.  I was on the Huntington/Richmond road, just short of the Audubon Sugar shack.  I was rounding a curve in the road, and wanted to hear the song "Hallelujah", on my Pandora station, because the night was amazing, and I had just witnessed my friends getting married and my children grow into adults.  I love that song, as my kids will attest to.  Asking Sydney if Berkeley had fallen asleep, and getting the response, " I don't know, I can't see her", provoked my body's response to turn and see if I could visualize her asleep, slumped in her seat...exhausted from a day of excitement.   That was the last thing I remember.  Because as I turned around, my car was on the edge of the curve, clutched in the gravels pull and aiming me into a telephone pole.  CRASH, smoke, and a warm feeling of liquid down my face.  We stopped moving.  The car filled with smoke and soon someone was yelling through the window, get out, get out of the car.  My kids were crying, and " Mom, can we get out of the car?"  I focused, my head feeling like someone took a bat to it, " Yes, yes, get out of the car.  Get out of the road."  Disoriented I guess, we were not in the road, but in a ditch.  My kids and I were moved to the other side of the road, a driveway, of which I had known for quite sometime.  For Sydney used to go to Daycare there when she was 5 weeks old.   The rest happened quickly.  My friends came back to comfort me, they were driving up ahead and saw the burst of light from the explosion.  They hugged me and my children, and asked me to call Dick.  I did not recall his telephone number and stared blankly at my phone, not realizing that if I just pushed contacts his cell phone number would appear.  Shock.  My children kept repeating " Mom, mom are you okay?"  And I would say " Yes sweeties, mommy is fine, are you okay?"   We clung together not wanting to let go.  My friends, put my children in their car, they were shivering. Shock.  A State trooper showed up, and then  two Richmond cops and an Ambulance.  I did not send my children home with my friends before the cops showed up, I did not make an excuse to where I was, or that I was not drinking or that I was not using my cell phone.  We received a thorough exam from Richmond Rescue, whom I might add are amazing people. My husband showed up, driving from the same wedding I had just come from, speechless.  Shock.  The policeman wanted to talk to me.  Alone.  So after getting the okay to have my kids released from the ambulance, I sent them with my friends and my husband to get some kind of relief and because I knew I was going to be awhile.
          That is the story.  I was given a breath test, which I agreed too, and found myself over the legal limit.  Shocked.  I was processed, and here I am today, dealing with the consequences.  The stories I have heard surface from the original amaze me.  It spreads like a disease.  It frightens me, the ability to mold a story to ones liking.  This is my story, my life, and I know how it went, and how it ends.  You all should know by now, that I tell it like it is....call it ballsy, brave, honest....I call it real.  It never crossed my mind to embellish, lie, or hide what went on.
           Our society, tends to forget the beginning of the telephone conversation.  It is not news worthy, it won't get you as many friends, it does not pay the bills.  I am tired, tired of the misconceptions, tired of the falsities, tired of the hiding.  If I can get one person to stop living in a fantasy land life, through this blog, it is worth my daily reminder.  We are so slammed with politicians, government and communities, lying with each other about the real story that is beneath. It is easier to create illusions, misinformation, or hide behind a different mask, but it also kills who you are inside.   I am tired, but I am alive and even though the road gets tough at times, I like who I am, and who I will become through this and many other journeys life is going to throw me.