A Car Accident Changed My Life
I am abruptly awakened by the words “Sh*t! What the hell?!” as I hear someone stumbling over the makeshift alarm system that I created of empty milk cartons and rope. I quickly reach for the Smith & Wesson M&P Shield 9 mm from under my pillow and point it blindly into the darkness. My heart is pounding through my chest, and I can barely catch my breath yet I still manage to squeak out, “Who is there?” and “What do you want?” A man’s voice responds, “It’s me…Fred…don’t shoot!” I recognize his voice as belonging to my neighbor, let out the breath that I have been holding, and lower my gun. This scenario was something that I frequently saw in the movies; it wasn’t reality. It definitely wasn’t MY reality — or not what I remember as my reality anyway.
It wasn’t long ago that I had a beautiful home in the Carrollwood section of Tampa. My backyard was decorated with palm trees, flowers, and a bird bath. My morning routine consisted of sitting on my favorite black wicker chair listening to nature’s sounds including the chirping of birds, croaking of bullfrogs, and quacking of ducks playing with each other in the lake. I loved everything about my life especially anything having to do with the water. I loved the “Florida life”: going to the beach, boating, riding a bike, riding my motorcycle (yes, I was a biker babe), and eating new foods. I had a happy life.
I had the life I always dreamed of, and I wanted to share it with others less fortunate. My heart ached when I observed people sleeping on benches. More than once, I saw someone curled under a newspaper as their only form of protection from the rain that was about to pound the earth under the dark gray nimbus clouds above. I passed food, water, or money through my open car window as a way to acknowledge their existence and say “I’m sorry for your situation” without saying a word. I wondered what went so wrong that forced them into what appeared to be a sad and lonely life. My life was completely different than theirs. I spent my days surrounded by loving parents and I was well liked in the community, rarely spent time alone, and never ever felt lonely.
In a split second, my whole world changed. An awful car accident left me with an irreversible spinal injury, uncontrollable migraines, and so many knee issues that it’s unbearable to walk most days. Prior to the accident, I owned my own business, and therefore, I worked long and hard hours. I was a rock star! Now I depend on the kindness of others to help me get by. My last memory before waking up to those obnoxious beeping sounds of the vital machine was me driving to the grocery store. I learned that while stopped at a red light, my car was slammed into from behind by a drunk driver. My life has changed dramatically since that devastating day. Because of my injuries, I am disabled and my doctor said I will never work again. Since I am unable to work, I lost my house, my car, and my life.
After the accident, I stayed in a hotel for a short time, but they were expensive–especially when I was utilizing them on a daily basis. I wanted to make my savings last longer so I was forced to choose a hotel that, well, was not exactly the Ritz-Carlton. The walls reeked of mold, conversations were heard through the walls, the flooring creaked with each step, and the mice were hiding from the rats. The rooms would get rented by the hour and they seemed to have a revolving door. My room was clean but the surrounding environment made me feel dirty. Outside the hotel’s walls, I was subjected to a rough life including drugs and prostitution. When I left the hotel, I was acknowledged with whistles and cat calls. I smelled fresh weed, cigarettes, and stale liquor and witnessed people exchanging items. Although I am not positive, I am fairly certain there was something illegal being exchanged. I wanted no part of that so I lowered my head and swiftly walked past them. I felt very unsafe. I decided it would be safer for me to find another place to stay.
I purchased a single person tent and after several weeks of struggling to set it up in the evening, taking it down in the morning, and finding a place to store it during the day, I realized that this was too exhausting for me to continue. I located a spot where I would be be away from the stares, chatter, and ridicule of people and where I hoped to feel safe. I set up my campsite one last time. This campsite in the woods off of a main road in Tampa has been my “home” for nearly two years. During the day, it can be quite loud because of the heavy traffic. I hear the traffic speeding by, horns blowing, brakes screeching, and vehicles backfiring. Once the day becomes night, the traffic settles down, and I find the same traffic that is quite intrusive and obnoxious during the day to be somewhat soothing.
I don’t sleep much during the night as every movement that I make results in a lot of pain. Additionally, my sense of hearing became heightened, and I hear every movement in the woods around me. I do my best to keep my campsite private but anyone could stumble upon it and cause me harm. Even when I do sleep, I sleep with one eye open.
I am excited when it is time to climb out of my tent in the morning as the highlight of my day is using the bright light of the moon to locate the perfect place to lay out my blanket and witness one of the true beauties of the world. Not many people are awake early in the morning so I find the world peaceful and relaxing as opposed to mean and judgmental. As the sun gets closer to the horizon and the world around me gets brighter, I hear the breaking of twigs and the rustling of leaves and know that a larger animal must be near. I look to the right to see a beautiful doe and her fawn making eye contact with me. I slowly pull up my phone to snap a quick photo. I am careful not to make any sudden movements and scare them. I take the time to focus and capture the image. I got it! Wow! That was amazing. It was almost like they were posing for my photo. They made my day!
Other than taking pictures, I don’t do anything fun; it’s more about doing things for survival. Most of my time is spent searching for food, cleaning my laundry, going to appointments, or making phone calls to locate housing resources. I spend any free time at my tent with my best friend, Zoe, who is my dog. She has been with me through the good, the bad, and the ugly. She is getting older now, so I worry about her a lot. She brings me all the joy that I have in my life. Zoe is my everything; we are each other’s everything. I don’t know what I would do without her.
My current dream is to again be in a home where I can have a place to take a shower, a place for Zoe to run and be care free, a place to sit and relax without worrying that I am going to be arrested or harassed, and a place where I can store my belongings without having to worry that they will get stolen.
I recall my first night on the street when I slept behind the mall. I worried all night. Where am I going to go? What am I going to do? Am I going to be safe? Where am I going to go to the bathroom? Where am I going to wash my hair? How am I going to feed Zoe? Where can I get water? It was very difficult to get comfortable, knowing there were so many open-ended questions and not having one single idea on how to solve them. It has been two and a half years and I still have the same thoughts, the same worries. My situation hasn’t gotten any easier. I wonder if it ever will.