Lately, it has been hot, so I decided to do something that would make life a little easier. I cooked a bunch of different meals in the crock pot, put them into containers, and froze them. That way, when the weather is hot, I wouldn't have to do much cooking. Then a flyer came in from the local Mexican market. They had pineapples, plantains, mangoes, watermelon, cucumbers—fresh fruits and vegetables at really good prices. They also had beef shanks. So after the gym, I had my caretaker take me to the store. I already had plenty of food at home. I had meals in the freezer, food in the refrigerator, and everything I needed. I wasn't going to the store because I was running out of food. But when I got there, something happened. I felt happy. The store was colorful and full of fresh food. I could choose one of this, two of that, three of something else. I wasn't limited to whatever quantity happened to come in a package. I could actually look at what I wanted and decide what I wa...
There’s a question that keeps looping in my mind since the accident:
Why did this happen to me?
Not just in a surface-level way—but in a deeper, more unsettling way.
Was this random?
Or was there a reason?
And if there was a reason… was it somehow my fault?
When Faith Gets Tangled with Fear
I started questioning things I never thought I would.
Even my curiosity—exploring things like tarot, pendulums, and spiritual tools—suddenly felt like something I needed to examine under a microscope.
Was I stepping outside of my faith?
Was I doing something I wasn’t supposed to do?
Was this some kind of consequence?
It’s a hard place to sit in—when your beliefs, your curiosity, and your trauma all start blending together.
The Truth I Keep Coming Back To
The more I sit with these questions, the more I realize something important:
Not everything that happens is a message.
Not everything is a lesson.
And not everything painful is a punishment.
Sometimes things happen because life is unpredictable.
Because people make reckless choices.
Because we live in a world where not everything is fair or preventable.
That doesn’t make it easier.
But it does make it clearer.
Separating Meaning from Blame
There’s a difference between searching for meaning and assigning blame.
Searching for meaning is human.
But blaming yourself for something that was outside of your control?
That’s a weight no one should have to carry.
I didn’t cause this.
I didn’t deserve this.
And I don’t need to turn my suffering into something symbolic just to make it valid.
Where I Am Now
I’m still healing.
Still processing.
Still learning how to exist in a body and a life that changed overnight.
I don’t have everything figured out.
I don’t have a clean, inspiring takeaway.
What I do have is this:
A growing understanding that I’m allowed to be in the middle of this.
To question.
To feel.
To not have answers yet.
And to trust—however slowly—that clarity will come in its own time.
The questions without answers.
The healing that doesn’t look linear.
The moments where faith and doubt sit side by side.
I’m not here because I have it all figured out.
I’m here because I’m living it—one day, one breath, one truth at a time.
If my story resonates with you, please consider donating, sharing my GoFundMe, or simply helping me keep this story moving forward. Recovery after trauma isn’t just physical — it’s emotional, financial, spiritual, and ongoing. Every share, donation, kind word, and prayer helps lighten the weight of rebuilding a life after everything changes overnight. Thank you for standing beside me while I figure out what healing, faith, fear, and survival truly look like now.
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