When the Road Lacked Grit, I Didn’t! About seven years ago, one December morning, I was on a road driving to work. I had been on this route for over ten years, and it was intimately familiar. It was the odd winter when England had some snow. As snowfall had stopped for two days, I decided to drive to work, hoping to make it in time for my first meeting. Â
I do not know what got to me, but I turned onto a country road I would normally avoid during inclement weather. Within less than five minutes of driving on that road, at one point, I realised I had lost control of the car. Despite going at a low speed, the car spun out of control. I vividly remember thinking the car would crash into the hedges and stop on its own, and I could get out of it. Stop it did but on its nose!
By then, I had lost consciousness. I later found out that I slipped in and out of consciousness from that point until I was finally rescued. When I opened my eyes in the car, I noticed my orientation was not right. I could not understand why it was so green on the other side of the windscreen. Finally, I realised I was hanging down from my seat.
I tried desperately to unbuckle my seat belt, but it did not give in. If I had removed myself from the seat, I would have fallen on the windscreen, and I cannot say what that would have led to. I saw the side airbag had exploded. I managed to get my window down and shout for help when I was conscious. In one such moment, I saw a face appear next to the window, and I asked them to rescue me.
The next thing I know, about an hour later, is that I am standing on the road with many people, including police, paramedics, and what I recall as bin collectors. From memory, it was bin collectors who called for help.
I was first taken to the police car and then into the ambulance. The road was extremely slippery, making it difficult to walk. I then understood I lost control of the car due to black ice.
I could not recall my husband’s phone number, but I remembered his workplace and informed him. I was taken to the hospital in the ambulance. After some waiting, I was asked to turn to the right and left and sent back home with no further advice or support. The aftermath of the incident started showing the next day. I was in excruciating pain and let down by the healthcare system. The next few days seemed like hell. I was in tears often, felt unusually low, and could see I was not the same person as before the accident. I then chose to get help privately from an osteopath.
My osteopath helped me understand that my neck had travelled too far out while hanging upside down for about an hour in the car and explained how the body-mind connection was making me feel symptoms of depression. He did warn me that my neck may play up every now and then because of the injury. It is a consequence I still must deal with after so many years. Over a few sessions, I began to feel better and finally began to recover.
Despite the pain, I was keen to buy another car immediately because I wanted to be behind the wheel before the fear sets in. Fear of driving, fear of another crash! I was determined not to be held back by fear and lose my independence. As an automotive engineer, I knew road accidents were common, and one incident does not imply there will be more. In truth, I had been driving for over ten years and had a clean record. Statistically, this one incident is an outlier, and I would not let that hold me back. My husband and I went looking for a car with plenty of airbags! That is what I wanted.
After this incident happened, friends who visited me called it traumatic. I refused to give it that label, or any label for that matter. If I label it so, I knew the way the mind behaves will be altered and not in a good way.
I was surprised by how the brain responds to such incidents. I still have no recollection of how I was recovered from the vehicle, and I have stopped trying to recall. The brain and mind try to protect us when such emotionally strong incidents occur.
When conscious, I remember only thinking of survival while waiting for rescue. My mind was constantly looking for ways to get out of the car and the situation. It was not the meeting I was late to, my loved ones, or my life ahead that I thought of, and it didn’t feel like I had much choice about what to think of. In hindsight, it is interesting to see how we have evolved to keep the race going; survival is the prime motive.
While recovering, it would have been easy to kick myself for taking that turn when the weather was bad and moan about why this happened; after all, I had other health challenges already. But this incident left me with a huge appreciation of how our mind works and how it is possible to prepare ourselves for such situations.
Without giving them a name, I had been doing several things, including feeling gratitude for being rescued from a lonely road, to not only overcome this incident but make it something more. I do believe things happen for a reason, and I was curious why this happened, and I was about to find out.
While resting at home, I had an overwhelming desire to do something that would help change people’s lives, much like what my osteopath did for me. I decided to pursue my interest in psychology and become a coach.
While I went on to qualify myself in NeuroLinguistic Programming, meditation, mindfulness, and so on, what I knew deep down was that I had a lot to share with the world to make a difference. That was the personal currency I chose to offer to the world.
I then became an emotional well-being coach and worked with people to help them restore their mental well-being and, importantly, build resilience. As my clients learned to handle their ups and downs, they wanted to grow. With them, I grew as a growth and resilience coach. Now, I am working on my vision to create nurturing leaders by helping women break barriers and progress in their professional and personal lives.
Instead of asking why me, I looked, with wonderment, for where this car accident was leading me. I found my answer, which led me to do something fulfilling. When life knocks us down, the choice of getting up or lying there is with us. I chose to rise much taller, and so can you.
