September 24th, 2013.
I don't believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that everything just happens. And you can either choose to be strong about it or you can think the universe is out to get you. But it's not. The universe doesn't care. The universe is fucking indifferent. But you know who isn’t indifferent? People. These are the people who got me through. I love you. Whether you gave me a pep talk, drove me to Starbucks, sat with me while I cried, got me to drive again, or helped me make a web series, I love you.
And if your life is such right now that you’re faced with an uncertain path, something you really aren’t sure of…go with your gut. Do the right thing for you, even if it’s the hard thing. Because at the end of the day, you have to live with the choices you’ve made, not anyone else. And you get to make those choices. Those choices that will either lead to immense happiness or overwhelming sadness. And that’s a privilege. So don’t you dare let anyone else make your choices for you and say you had none. Because you always have a choice. Two years ago, I wanted to give up. I wanted to die and I wanted to not try and I wanted to stay inside and never do anything again except watch Friends and cry. But I fought. I fucking fought. I wrote through it and I walked through it and I talked through it until I got through it. And then I kept going. I didn’t just stop and smile once I saw that I was "through it." I kept walking, so as to put it as far behind me as possible.
Two years ago today, I got in a really bad car accident. And for a long time I thought it ruined my life. If you've known me for any amount of time, you'll know that I'm a planner. I’m organized. I’ve always had a path laid out for myself. If people were Parks & Recreation characters, I’d be Leslie Knope. (Or Ben Wyatt. I haven’t decided yet.)
But looking back on it now, I realize that that car accident didn’t ruin my life. It just took me off a path I was wrong to think I should be on, and down another, more suitable one. I can’t even begin to tell you how significant that is. Even though it’s been two years, I can still remember sitting on the couch with my mom right after it happened, and her saying, “One day you’ll understand why this happened.” I remember that like it was yesterday, and I also remember feeling like there was no way in hell that would ever be true. But she was right. I understand it now. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
And now I’m here and yesterday I drove to Rochester for a concert and I tried sushi for the first time and visited cool coffee shops with friends and ate waffles. And that isn’t to say it doesn’t still haunt me. I worry every day about that dark, hopeless feeling sneaking up on me and grabbing me from behind again. But the thing is…I’ve got protection now. I have people who have been through it too, so it almost feels like we’re all standing in a giant circle back to back, protecting each other. (Avengers style) That’s an awesome feeling, and something I’m really proud to be a part of. I’m honored to protect you guys.
So…I’m not trying to say I’m happy the accident happened. I'm definitely not. But I accept that it did and I accept that I am here as a result and that here doesn’t suck. It doesn’t suck at all.