…talk about adventure.
I wish I could have closed my eyes and not seen anything. BUT.. I did. And you guys are going to get my visual. Strap in, it was traumatic to me.
As I was headed to the post office, (much like I do any other day), HWY 27 was blocked off by about 27 cars and trucks. It was imperative that you drive thru the 2 oncoming lanes of traffic to avoid this catastrophe. Approaching the scene, cars blocked visually the accident. I thought the little diner was on fire. SERIOUSLY! There were fire trucks and only one ambulance. (Picture to the right is the only news on it so far and it’s on the FHP website as a call out… Fatal. Well, no kidding.
As I got closer and started thru the traffic squeeze, I saw large plastic tarps being held up by a young woman who looked quite pale. My eyes focused on the single tire that had been ripped from the car by the axle and broken in half that was in the middle lane. Panic came over my face and I looked up just as the curtain blew back from the wind to expose 2 dead people lying in the street. I saw them. I cannot give details as to what happened in the accident as I was traumatically flustered with a panic attack.
I saw a smashed vehicle, but I can’t tell you what color is was. It too had a matching tarp covering it.
Irrational fear is hard to explain to someone that doesn’t share your view.
I have a fear of Dead Bodies. This is No Shit… I can’t make this stuff up.
While speaking to my mother today about it and her calming me down, she tried to find the source of the fear. She said that it more than likely started when I was three. Check out this story that I can remember like it was yesterday:
I was 3 and my mom took us to the laundromat to do laundry. My brother (he was 7 or 8) was pushing me in one of the rolling carts. As my mother (I’m sure) told us to stop, I wandered outside the door and found a man that had face planted the cement. Blood ran from his face and trickled a dark red into the gutter. He couldn’t move and I was struck with fear in not knowing what to do. Even in my little brain, I knew something was wrong.
My mother protected us and just gathered her things and took us from the place. I have no closure knowing whether or not the guy lived.
Since then, seeing a guy dying in front of me has sunk into my brain and given me the fear of death and dying and dead people. I can’t do it. I hyperventilate.
Irrational fear is just that … irrational. Doesn’t make sense and everything else just stops. I hope that I get to experience irrational fear with J. Lemme rephrase: I hope he has some irrational fear that I get to place judgment on. He made me feel small and stupid.
It’s not something I can explain, but it’s real to me.