The course

                                                 

                                                  IMPACT PANEL

I am sitting across from a boy, I think is not much older then my daughter, his mother sits behind me, as a observer, she is uneasy, and nervously fidgets with papers.  I sit with approximately 30 people, in a stuffy room that reeks of cigarette ash and old clothes.   My stomach feels like I am just about to walk into some classroom unprepared to do a speech I have yet to write.  I fidget with my papers to fit in.  

"This is the first evening of our impact panel, it is meant to make you uncomfortable, and think about certain situations before you get into them.  You will hear from victims of DUI cases...Driving under the Influence of a substance, a liquid or texting.  You may cry, get angry, or feel like you should not be here.  You ARE here, because you WERE driving under the influence...or texting"

It is hard to get excited about these classes.  Yet they are required if you are involved in any kind of accident that could have been prevented.  Also known as a Crash, for accidents cannot be avoided, crashes can.  I and the 30 odd others were then subjected to 3 hours of information, presentations by victims, and a movie.  It was for the most, what I wish every child should go through before he or she receives their license.  The first exercise proved very effective.  We were told to write down 3 people we care about in our lives one name on one piece of index card.  I wrote, Dick, Sydney and Berkeley.  Then we were paired with a stranger, (you don't really socialize at these events).  You were then suppose to shuffle the names and pull the one on the bottom, and hand it to your partner.  

The other 2 that were left, you set aside.  I put down, Berkeley and Sydney to the chair on my left.

"Now, look at the card your partner just gave you."  I looked, and saw that the card I had given my partner had the same name on it.  " This is the person you just killed, and 1 in 4 of you in this room will kill, or injure.  Please turn to your partner and discuss who you just killed."  

It turns out my partner, Richie, had a son named Richard, whom he just bought a car for.  I had killed him.  And he, had killed my husband, Richard.  It was an eery feeling, and we both were stunned at the coincidence, and shared it with the group after.  It was a powerful moment for the class, one that you normally don't think about while your driving your car, or texting to your Friends.  It was many of several consequences that hit close to home.

Next up, the speakers...you could see every muscle in their bodies tense.  And for the most part the class was respectful while they spoke.  Again, there are a few who think they were wronged in life, and even though they crashed the car, or received the DUI, still didn't believe it.  We listened to lives ruined, from wealthy restaurant owners, that lost everything and were now 30 year old living with their parents, to young adults just getting into college and having everything fall apart.

Enter Emma.  She was 23.  She was texting her friend, at around 8pm on a dark winter night.  Was watching the phone for a response and did not see the women and dog she had hit on their evening walk.  The women she hit, broke every bone in her body.  The dog she was walking ended up in the ER, alive, but suffering.  I worked that night in the ER.  The heaving body of this great chocolate lab, came in on a stretcher.  Bleeding, and not coherent ....it was brought in by the E.M.T on duty at the scene of the crime.  It had been thrown 150 yards from where it was hit.  "You have to save this dog, it is all she has left"...was what I remember hearing.  10 minutes later it arrested, and died.  The dogs owner, through numerous surgeries, and painful P.T sessions, is alive physically, mentally she is gone.  Emma cannot be in the court room with her victim.  She has a restraining order against her.  Emma is not allowed to contact her in any way.  This was a connection I was not wanting to happen, yet for some reason, this girl who had only talked on 2 other occasions, was standing in front of me, telling her story, from the other side.  I could not hold back tears.  And I had another evening of this class.

I do not intend to write these stories for gossip sake, or for pity.  I am trying to get people to think.  I was never "One of those people", but there I sat.  Not privileged, not untouchable, not a junky, not a inexperienced driver.  Me, a 45 year old, that chose to drive, and avert my eyes off the road at the wrong time.  It happens to anyone.  I asked at the end of class, why this was not a required course in schools today.  " It can't be, in order for it to really work, one must have gone through the trauma".  

It strikes me odd, that such a devastating experience only need to happen after the fact.  It was one of the many things I would have changed during this lesson in life.  We are a society that tries to prevent old age, disease, hunger, poverty, yet we can't keep kids, adults animals from dying from something that actually could have been.  There are many misfortunes with how the system works, inconsistancies in courtrooms, departments, lawyers and consequences, but there are several constants in my life.  The ability to not drive a car with the phone on, or under any influence at all.

I guess you can say the Impact panel worked.  Please be safe out there people.  

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.
                                                   

Daily Dose of Death:

It is hard waking up, knowing that you have to face death.  It is even harder when you see death, and it is the worst when you know you were so close to death.


It has  been week two, and three and going on four, I have biked to work and home 4 out of 5 days to my work.  I love to bike, and it frees my mind, it is a time to organize and let go, but at the same time it is a fight to stay alive....not the fight our military has to face, not the fight our children have to go through each and every day through their daily upbringings, trying to figure out who they really are, but a true fight, for life.

I ride in rain, sleet, gorgeous blue bird days, I like to ride...what I hate is the anxiety of never letting my eyes off the road.  To some that may be easy, to others like myself who suffer from ADHD, it is a challenge.  I rode my bike in 30 degree temps for about a week or two, my hands were cold, fingers numb, my face had no expression except concentration.  What was I concentrating on...life.   The ability to survive the 12 .3 miles it takes me to ride to or from work safely.   I asked my husband what I should be weary of, on a day it was 30 degrees and pouring rain....he said don't ride on the painted lines.  Painted lines.  They may look big to those who drive along side them in a car, in fact you may curse a many cyclist for being too close to the  lines they are driving near, but let me tell you about the painted lines.  For one:  painted lines are made for the gas guzzling vehicle, two: if you are not a gas guzzling vehicle you loose, three: stay away from the painted lines.   This may sound confusing to you, but let me explain....We as bikers, cyclists if you will, are not meant to go beyond the painted line, it is our safety zone, where we feel secure, oblivious to the surroundings around us....this is bullshit.

What you don't see between the slim line protecting vehicle drivers from driving off the edge of the road or warning drivers that there is no shoulder, is the biking lane.  It is small at times the size of a mountain bike tire, at random occasions it is wide and wonderful.   Those wonderful times exist few and far between.  There are dead animals, metal, broken glass, gravel, trash, a random bottle or two...it is a nightmare.   I have to say, that the joy of biking turns into an adventure course where ninja warriors abound....This is my daily dose of death.  I swerve, curve, bobble, and bound, I jump, sway, maneuver and pray, that I will not find that metal object you threw out of your car, or the nail that happened to appear.   The cracks alone give me anxiety....if I get my tire in between the crevices, they pop...oh so not cool. The lines are slick, like ice on a rainy day, they toss you to the side if you turn on them at the wrong time.  They are the enemy.
        I now know the favorite drinks of people by the trash they throw outside, Franzia wine, Yoohoo, Amp drinks, Cavit wine....these are the things I view daily,  10 boxes of Franzia alone on Barber farm road...and when did chocolate milk become a forbidden drink so that we need to discard the debry....I hate that I cannot take my eyes off the road to view the soaring hawk, 10 feet away, or the fact that I cannot pull my sleeve down because my arm is frozen and I have 10 more miles to go....if I bobble, sway or swerve, I am dead, or seriously injured.  It is hard to face everyday.  Yet it is a fact that I did not take into account when I drove my vehicle that night.  One swerve, one twist, one mistake and I and my children would be dead.   It is something I have to wake up to everyday.  It is something you should wake up to everyday.  

I was suppose to get my license back this week, but the system tells me different.  Instead of a month of suspension, I will have nearly 2 months suspension...because you need to complete a crash course before you get your license back. a crash course that is full and overflowing. and takes you two weeks to get into...costing my family nearly 3,000 $ financially, anxiety between children's routines and  normality, and being a burden on society.  I will dance with my daily dose of death...for another 16 days......it hurts, sucks and pretty much makes me nauseous everyday...but it is what needs to be done to figure out how lucky I am.

I am here, and want to make sure that you are here....think before you drive that car, think before you play with the music on  your cell phone, think before you turn your head to look at your child asleep in the backseat ..for you are playing with Death. One second and it is over.

I am thankful for the reminders, even though they are painful, they make me face what I took for granted, or did not want to visualize.  I awake to a daily dose of death, And now  I go out and make sure it does not happen again.

Thank you again to all the families that have given my children a sense of normalcy.  To my husband who gives me strength   and most of all to my children for their ability to love through thick or thin....It is with all of this combined strength that I can wake up and ride on.

Week One

  WEEK ONE:

It has been a week since my license has been suspended.  The first day after I realized I couldn't drive anymore to pick up that loaf of bread I wanted to eat with our dinner meal, or take my kids and dog to Mobbs, where they like to run wild and splash in the river, free and uninhibited, I felt horrible.  Lifeless, almost hungover.  I didn't want to move, I was depressed, withdrawn, and down right grumpy.  I remember almost feeling nauseous.  I didn't want to eat, just wanted to sleep and I was pissed.  How dare they take away my license.  What did I pay my lawyer to do anyway, show up in court and call it a day.  It was a dark place for me to be in.  What I really wanted to do was run away, hide and  come out when it was all over.  The mear mention of dialogue concerning what we were going to do for the week, plan wise, was just another kick in my ego.  I am not used to loosing.

The day was gorgeous, 70's and sunny, and just one of those days you don't get in October.  And luckily my kids and husband pulled me through.  We had soccer, we had to grocery shop, the laundry needed to be done, I had to make arrangements on getting my kids to and from school the next day, I had to dig out my biking clothes, and most importantly, I had to find in myself the ability to ride 23 miles a day on that bike, to which I have not ridden in several years.  Even though these things made the day go by, the uncomfortable angry darkness, still surrounded the glowing sunset that I watched as the evening slipped away.  My kids are spoiled you see, they get a ride to school every morning, and they get picked up at a location that involves play time with friends, or an occasional read in the town library, or more importantly a play date at a friends house. They were not going to get that on Monday.  Instead they would get an hour long ride in the morning, and an hour long ride in the afternoon, to their house, their boring, everyday, non eventful house.  I could not kiss them goodbye as they sauntered into school, I could not gossip with the ladies at the front desk,  There would be no greetings to fellow moms, and dads that were dropping their kids off  and fulfilling their roles as parents.  I was powerless, not in control, walking on territory that was unfamiliar to me.  You see when George took my power away when I was young, I promised myself that I needed to fight, and not live a life of a victim, but be strong, powerful and independent.   No man or thing would ever take that from me again.  And yet there I stood, watching my kids step on a bus, that I was not driving, and going to a school that I could not enter to make sure it was safe, being independent, which I was not ready to embrace.  It was sad, and frustrating and felt like a little piece of me, had just gotten lost.

That day I rode, 12.5 miles to work, hard, and what I thought was fast, but really not so much.   The road was bumpy, full of cracks, potholes, cars that should have a sign saying" I hate cyclists", But I made it to work, and when it was time to ride home, I did so, with legs that were not in shape, and a pace that wouldn't win any races, but I did it, and the day still went by, the kids made it off the bus alive, and day three had arrived and passed.

I rode to work everyday except one, and each day  the cracks got smaller, the traffic became obsolete, and the potholes became divots.  I had forgotten how fall in Vermont felt.  The crisp air, the smell of decaying leaves, the farm that had just spread it's manure, closing another pasture for its winter hibernation.  I saw geese landing in the fields, floating on the river, hawks seeking their prey before they migrate, and watched the slow decomposition of the animals that were not so lucky at crossing the road to get to the other side.  When I arrived home, my kids would either be just arriving off the bus, or because the school did not receive my emails, would be delivered to me by grateful friends, who feel like family.  The anxiety, of not being in complete control lessened.  And life still was.

Now, I look forward to biking into work, granted the first week was a blessing from Mother Nature with its mild temperatures, and foliage that just won't take no for an answer.  I've gained a biking buddy, who goes out of the way to ride to or from work with me.  I think my pace is improving, and I feel content.  Sure, I am unable to hop into the car and go to the places I used to go to a the drop of a hat, but what I can do, is stop, observe, and take in what I have been missing in my hurried, fill every moment kind of day living.  It will be colder next week, and a whole different feel to my morning rides, but it will be another lesson, of letting things go.  Enjoying what you have in front of you, and not always symbolizing power with independence and comfort.

I think we often rush through life fulfilling our duties to ourselves and our children and families and we don't remember to slow down and enjoy even the little things...Todays' world is built on convenience  and speed.  It can destroy the beauty of being powerless.   Sometimes we just need to let go to find what we have been missing, a much stronger power then we ever thought.  Yes, I know this has been said before, through many Buddhist sayings, or enlightenment's, but to actually experience it is more powerful then reading about it.

Democracy? Not so much.

Let me start out by saying Thank you.  The out pouring of kindness, emotion, truth and love from all of you over the past weeks is amazing.  I have never been so sure of myself, then these last few weeks.  I have cried, hidden, yelled, woken up with nightmares, and loved.  I have admitted, and faced fears, that I had not faced before.  You have all given me something to keep me going.  And some of you have given me things that I did not want to hear but had to.  It is not always a rose garden out there, but, it is the truth that needs to be told in order to move on, and allow oneself to live again.  So, I am grateful to each and everyone of you who have reached out to me and given me strength.  Moving on, I will, and it may not be a walk in the park at times, but I will move.

After I wrote what I was going through recently I was due in court the following week.  Working up to that day in court was horrible.  I often would wake at 2am and not fall back asleep, I would dream of death, and watching my childrens bodies buried in the earth.  I would visualize car crashes with unexpected drivers, my friends, family members, or the occasional wildlife.  It was I am sure stress related, and the fact that my body was withdrawing from something that used to numb all these feelings. Court day arrived, I had not had any contact with my lawyer except a letter, It said "court sentence is at 1:30, be there at 1:00"...no call, no chat, no questions.

Court:  The most humilatating place on earth.  I was surrounded by people, who shook hands with friends that they have not seen in awhile, " hey, what are you in here for?", " Oh, they said they fucking found pot on my body, and I was driving under perscribed drugs, fucking idiots, they told me I had to go to crash, Fuck them, I'm not going, fucking idiots."  " Dude, what up?", "Seriously, that fucking bitch, she needs to be taught a lesson"..." shit man, this is your 4th offense"  My heart was pounding, in fact so much that I thought I might faint...my lawyer walked by me and didn't even look at me. It was 1:30, 5 cases later, he called my name, and when I said "right here", 2 inches from where he was, he said "oh, I walked right by you."...." We are gonna have a tough one here,"   my heart sank, after all I thought we were here for a child endangerment ruling, and I wanted to argue that my child was in a seat belt and not in a booster because she is beyond the requirements to be in a booster.  Well that didn't happen, they were actually charging me with cruelty to a child, and slapping on the DWI.  I felt sick.  Hot, Like I was about to vomit.  I had to pee, but could not go to the bathroom because they may call my name to go into the courtroom.   10 minutes later my lawyer comes out, I am the last one he has come to talk to.  " those fuckers want to charge you with cruelty, unless you plead guilty to DWI"...just as the ball drops, the baliff comes in and says " the court is in order" ....No time to discuss, just whether or not you want me to fight this, or plead quilty....If I fight it and lose...I have DCWF on my case for the next 10 years, if I plead quilty, I lose my license for 30 days and complete a Crash course.  With 5 DWI's in front of me... the judge was magnificent, knowing that he was dealing with a situation that was bad timing, and unfortunate, he actually humored me.  Being that is was the day that the Lamoille shooter was in town, and the 2 police officers that were there at the scene of the crash, showed up at the last minute, I was the one that was to be made an example of.

I pleaded quilty.  I am a mentor, of young children, a kind person to those who know me, I will go out of my way to help those who need it, and I will not allow child cruelty to be any where associated with my name...and facts are facts, I was driving with a blood alcohol content above the legal limit.


Fucked.  My lawyer postponed the sentence, I don't know why, because he has not really talked to me about it.  My sentencing is now in November...When it is cold, and hard to bike to places I may need to bike to.  It is another day, that the courts will spend money, to answer a punishment they already know is fordue.  It is a corrupt system.

This is only the beginning of what I have just unravelled.  The system that we believe in, our democratic rights, our freedom, our ability to trust in the system, is all but a farce.  What it comes down to is how much money you have, and how many people you can pay off.  Now wonder the people who have nothing and depend on a public defender, have no hope, they are never going to win.  It is a terifying feeling, walking into a courthouse.  The abuse of power is everywhere.  There are no friends, and no feelings of hope...it is desperate,   I am guilty.
 I can only imagine what it is to commit a crime that requires jail time, prison, or loss of life.  This system of ours is wrong.   I am a stronger person, for seeing what I have just not wanted to see.  Open your eyes people and remember, it only takes a second, to change your life.

Listening to yourself

It has been a long time since I have written,  why?  Well I think I did not want to remember the last post I made, it brought back horrible memories, pain, uncertainty, and basically a bad taste in my mouth.  But alas, I have come out of the shadows...and am willing to share my experiences with those that may be going through the same struggles, or may feel alone.

I have been awakened to a reality recently, that put my life in danger and more importantly that of the beings I could not live without...I am talking about my children, Sydney and Berkeley.  They make me get up in the morning, come home at night, and more importantly fill me with importance.  I could have taken that away, in one swift moment of misjudgement.  And I could have taken it away from another family, or soul...how you ask did this happen, why would I put the things I love to the moon and back in such danger, well that is easy...I crashed my car into a telephone pole, at 35-40 mph, after a wedding.  It was the best day, and the worst day, all at the same time. It hurt, it sucked, it ruined property, but most importantly it endangered my most beloved things on earth.

I have hidden my desire to hide the pain in my heart, the constent need to feel loved, the need to feel wanted, the pain I suffered from not fully allowing myself to let go of something that had happened to me ...what did I numb myself with, alcohol.  I hated myself, for letting someone else take from me, my personality, my being. my self.  I drank to hide my anger, my distrust of myself, I drank to forget.

I was an amazing drunk to my friends...I was happy, funny, sexy, "the life of the party", I was comfortable.  Habits are our friends, at least that is what we tell ourselves.  On the home front, it was not that easy, I was "a bitch", "Nasty", "argumentive", impatient, and asleep or passed out by 8.  In my perspective, I was tired.

That all changed when I crashed into the telephone/electric pole ...

The image will never be erased.  Smoke, airbags imploding, children screaming, my life changing.

Blood trickled from my nose, and my first thought was " my husband is going to kill me",,, of course not literally, but because I just crashed the new Volvo I recieved for Christmas.  Then as I heard my daughter exclaiming, "Mom, Mom, can we get out of the car now,? "  my instincts kicked in....save my children....get them safe,   they were fine, Seat belted and just bruised, I was fine, bloody nose and an amazing neck pain that felt like someone had hit me with a baseball bat on the base of my neck...BUT more importantly..ALIVE.

I blew a 1.2, and the cop handcuffed me in the front, instead of in the back, a most uncomfortable position for the body to be in.  Any other car, would have been split in half...we would have died.
I don't remember much of that night, due to the ringing in my ears, my head throbbing and the fact that I just kept thinking about how I just almost killed my children...it was horrible to say the least.

I woke up, not wanting to face the facts, defensive, angry...I hated myself.

My husband was angry, rightfully so, I almost took his lively hood away.  But he listened, and he told me, he beleived in me.  It was what I had been fighting for, for years....but had hidden behind alcohol.

I am not okay, nor will I be for a very long time, but what I AM, is ALIVE,  I have my children, I did not harm a innocent bystander, I am not giving up.  I have the most amazing friends and family, they have helped me, listened to me, and told me to stop playing the victum....I love them for their truth.  I will fight this battle dailey, and even though it arised from the young age of 14, I will win.  I am strong and George even though you thought I could not handle it as a 14 year old, I can handle it now!

Tomorrow, I will wake up, smelling my childrens fresh cleaned hair, holding their hands as we walk to school, kissing my husband and actually feeling his love.  I was given a chance to Listen, and now I will try to Live the life I have been missing for over 20 years.

To George, who fucked me up, and probably many others, I feel sorry for you....you have lived a life of misory, hate, and most likely neglect...I hope you can find some kind of help, that will enable you to enjoy a life without regrets.  It may be too late, but try, there is always hope.

Please contact me if anyone would like to talk...I am always here to listen...