It’s been two weeks since the day of the accident, and I keep realizing how every day that followed has felt quite different.

When something really bad happens, you’d think you’d forever continue walking around with the pain of it, and nothing would ever feel the same after. It’s true, so much does change. And yet, so much still stays the same.

I still wake up every morning. I still gasp at the sound of my alarm when I realize I’m super late. I still look for something to wear, pull myself together, and head to work. I still manage to feed myself, and take care of my little details. I still get distracted and almost forget what pain feels like on most days. I still come across people who know nothing about what happened to me, and I still smile back at their faces the same way. I still have casual interactions, and part ways realizing none of us really knows anything about what happens on the inside. Even beyond that, I still hang out with friends who know every little detail about what happened, and we still laugh our heads off over inside jokes. I still laugh. So hard. Anyone watching from the outside might think I’ve never experienced pain a single day of my life. I‘d think the same if I watched from the outside, too.

Yet I still randomly tear up at the most unexpected times. In the most unexpected settings. For the most unexpected reasons.

I’d be watching my favorite series, the audience would be cracking up, while I realize I’ve wet my cushions with a flow of silent tears. Because for a moment there, it somehow felt unsafe. I’d be in the middle of a serious talk, then randomly feel a pinch in my heart, tightness around my chest, and find it hard to breath. Because someone said something totally unrelated that somehow still triggers memories from that day. I’d be going to bed with a smile on my face after receiving a cute text from someone so dear, then experience a sudden reflex jump after I curl up under my blanket. Because my mind happened to wander back to the accident a few seconds before I fell asleep, so I had to go through a nightmare of a much worse crash that totally disturbs my sleep.

Every time I start feeling a little okay, I realize I’m so not. And every time I’m convinced I’m never getting back to who I used to be, I find pieces of my old self making it through.

Because it finally makes some sense. How people would always say, healing is never linear. Now I know.

Healing will always be full of ups and downs. Highs and lows.

And that’s okay.

It’s okay.