253: What if you couldn't even remember the crash?
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This Is Actually Happening features real experiences that often include traumatic events. Please consult the show notes for specific content warnings on each episode and for more information about support services. From here on in, how am I going to continue living? I can't do this. How am I going to live my life? That unknown was so big. It was so dark. From Wondery, I'm Witt Misseldein.

You are listening to This Is Actually Happening. Episode 253. What if you couldn't even remember the crash?

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I am a proud Canadian. I grew up in Ontario and I haven't moved out of Ontario. Growing up in Canada in my early years was simple. I feel very lucky to have not had to endure anything very big or insane culturally. I feel so very lucky to be living where I am living

Right off the start, when I was around the age of two, my parents separated. My relationship with my mom has always been remarkable. My relationship with my father, on the other hand, has had its many ups and downs.

With my father in my adolescent years, he would watch the hockey game, I would go and entertain myself in his backyard, but I never felt the strong connection with him that I felt with my mom for my entire life. I have always been a huge mommy's girl, and I will continue to be a mommy's girl.

When I was young, I want to say five, my mom's best friend committed suicide. And I am not really sure that I really understood that until I was of a later age. But that definitely introduced loss to me from an early age.

Apparently at her funeral, I shared that I had had a dream not too long after she passed where she had come to me in my dream. And I had opened my eyes and she was standing in my room and she just wanted to make sure that my mom knew that it was okay that she was gone. She wanted my mom to move on from her death.

It really affected my mom, and she still talks about her all the time. And from that loss, it just prepared me at a young age for what to expect in the future. She is dead, and that is what happens to everyone at some point in their lives.

I have four siblings, two siblings on my mom's side and two siblings on my father's side. My youngest older sibling is 12 or 13 years older than me. So even though I have four siblings, I very much felt like a single child.

I wasn't lonely, but I got very good at talking with myself and just having my own conversations. I found almost any way to be creative. If I got bored, I would just craft. I was heavily involved in the theatre community, music, singing, and the arts. I was up to my eyeballs in arts.

I was heavily involved with theater because my mom was the musical director. And I became very heavily involved with the dance community every night of the week except Sundays. And that started when I was 12 years old. From then on, I was a very heavy dancer, being involved with every type of dance as well as teaching every type of dance.

Once I had hit high school, that is when things started to go downhill. Mental health really started affecting me, depression and anxiety. My four years in high school were not easy at all. I felt like I was being bombarded with all of these emotions and I didn't know where to put all of them.

It was just me alone with my thoughts all the time. I was very afraid of waking up and opening my eyes and starting the day. I was terrified. I was so unsure of the unknown and the future and what was to come. I hated that not knowing.

A typical day in my world as a teen, my mom would come upstairs and say, "Are you not going to school again today?" I then would curl into a ball in my bed and I would just be so scared and I would say, "No, I don't want to. I can't. I can't do this." I envied the people who would get up and attend school every single day.

I just looked at them in absolute awe. I don't know where this stemmed from, with how severe it was. I really can't pinpoint it. In these many days that I would miss school, you wouldn't ever catch me missing a dance class. The only time I would miss a dance class was if I was in the hospital.

I was in the hospital once in the psych ward because I was scared of ending my life.

And so I had talked to mom and then I admitted myself into the mental health ward and stayed there for a number of days. And then once I came out, it was even worse because then I had experienced these lovely days in the mental health ward, experiencing solitude with myself and only myself. And I could think what I wanted. I didn't have anyone's judgment or opinions shared.

And then when I was released, everything was overstimulating. I lived more at the dance studio than at my own house. I have never felt more alive than when I was dancing. Dance was my expression. Dance was my language. Dance was how I coped with my emotions and everything I was struggling through.

I would let out with dance. I was dancing six out of seven days a week, and my mental health and my suicidal thoughts were all still there, but I was just able to cope with them and just set them aside. Dance was the only thing that I was willing to live for.

Apart from dance, what was the point of all of this? What was the point of life? Why was I sent here? What is my reason not understanding why I was here, why I was breathing? And when I wasn't at dance, these answers to these questions were very negative.

I felt the need to be high or drunk or anything in order to get through the day. If I wasn't dancing, I needed something else to give me that high that I felt that movement gave me. It was May 4th of 2018. I was heading to a music conference with my mom.

After the conference, it was opening night of the theater company that we were heavily involved in. My mom was the music director of this specific show that we were putting on. And I was the choreographer. And it was a lovely play. And the whole day was just absolutely beautiful. It was a Friday night.

After my junior show ended, I got in my car and I drove home. And my plan was to go and hang out with this friend that I had.

Our friendship was long. I had known him since elementary school, and we had just reconnected recently before this specific day. We were a little bit more than friends. We were just in the midst of perhaps becoming something else. So I hopped into the shower.

And then I grabbed my dog and I went for a drive with this friend of mine. I don't actually remember any of this day. The only memories I have of this day are just because they have been passed on to me verbally. My mom has told me about this day. Those are the only memories I hold of this day.

supposedly we had gone into town the driver myself and my puppy mocha who was just over a year old we were on illegal substances at the time and three minutes away from the house we ran a stop sign

The car who we collided with collided with us at the side of our car and sent us tumbling into a field while the car that we collided with burst into flames on the side of the road. We rolled in the field at least three times and this field had been freshly planted so it was very, very dirty.

the driver that i was with at the time was ejected through the sunroof since i was in the passenger seat neither of us having seat belts on with my feet up on the dash and my puppy in my lap

When the car rolled due to my feet up on the dash, and thanks to my very flexible body at the time, I was found later by paramedics with my legs over my head and twisted the wrong way. The driver of the other car, after his car burst into flames, he walked away from the accident with minimal injuries. Thank goodness.

The driver of my car, this friend of mine, had been ejected through the sunroof from impact and died instantly. My dog had been wonderful and she had protected my face from any injuries. And it was shortly after the paramedics removed her from the car that she died from internal injuries.

We have been given a USB that holds pictures of the accident scene and seeing the car that I was trapped in with my legs over my head, one side of the car was almost completely ripped off. Two of my three brothers who are firefighters had seen this car wreck and they both say that it's one of the worst ones they've ever seen.

From what I have heard, one of the paramedics is a young woman who was able to climb into the back of the car I was in and register an IV because my pulse was ridiculously low.

The helicopter then picked me up. I was then airlifted to the nearest city hospital, but this specific city hospital wasn't equipped well enough to handle my injuries, so the paramedics were told to take me to the next closest city in order to possibly save me.

I was airlifted to the next closest city and then I was on the surgical table for approximately seven hours. It was after my surgery had ended that the lead surgeon had come out and found my mom and had said, "She's very broken. We did the best that we absolutely could, but she is very, very broken."

After that surgery, I was then in a coma for 21 days. They were monitoring my brain activity. Due to the car rolling in a freshly planted field, there were a lot of infections that came my way that attacked body parts of mine that had been gashed open and had lots of dirt in them.

It was shortly before I woke up from the coma that I was upgraded from brain damaged to brain injured. That's when I came out of my coma and started the worst, most intense, insane, craziest healing of my life.

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This Is Actually Happening is sponsored by ADT. ADT knows a lot can happen in a second. One second, you're happily single. And the next second, you catch a glimpse of someone and you don't want to be. Maybe one second, you have a business idea that seems like a pipe dream. And the next, you have an LLC and a dream come true. And when it comes to your home, one second, you feel safe,

And the next, something goes wrong. But with ADT's 24/7 professional monitoring, you still feel safe. Because when every second counts, count on ADT. Visit ADT.com today. My most critical injuries after my accident were my left arm, which was literally hanging on by a thread.

and my right fib tib, which was very infected from all of the dirt in the field. These limbs were almost amputated, but were able to be saved. The only amputated parts of my body are my left toes. Some of them are gone, and some of them are there.

After I woke up from my coma, I'm not able to recall any memories until about my second month of waking. At the hospital where I did some of my most serious rehabilitating, learning to stand, learning to walk again, my brain was not ready to make memories.

From the time they brought me out of the coma to when I start forming memories, it would have been approximately two months. In that time, I had learned to stand and I had learned to reach with my very, very, very broken left arm.

I had learned more about my gait with my upper body and that in order to walk, which we hadn't got to yet, I needed to have my shoulders back. When I was in my last recovery hospital, that is when my brain really started to wake up. That is when I started to really understand what had happened to me. And that's when I started to absolutely hate everything

so sad and angry at what had happened to my life. At the time, it seemed as if I would never move forward. During my entire hospital experience, which ended up being 210 days, my mom was with me. She made a point of sleeping in chairs, in cots, on the floor, because she couldn't imagine leaving my side.

She played such a ginormous part of my recovery, especially in those first few months when it was just, it was crucial. Because I was so immobile and because I had endured so many surgeries, my hair was starting to fall out like crazy from all of the anesthetic.

We decided that it was just better off if I shaved my head and just start fresh. And being the amazing mother she is, she said, well, if she's going through it, then I'm going to go through it too. She shaved her head as well. So we were both bald and we went through it together.

She went to Staples and just purchased a bunch of whiteboards. And because she was losing her voice from repeating what had happened to me when I asked because of my short-term memory, so she purchased all of these whiteboards to write out what had happened to me and then hang up the whiteboards just from left to right, synopsizing what had happened to me.

Your name is Desiree Ford. You were in a car accident with so-and-so. So-and-so died, as well as your dog, Mocha. You are now in the hospital, healing. You have all of the support you need. I was alive, and that was all I needed to focus on, was just the fact that I was here.

She says that I would look over and ask, "So what happened to Mocha, my dog?" And she would be there reading her book and she'd say, "Second board, fifth line down." And I would look, "Your dog, Mocha, died in the accident." And then I would say, "But where was this? First board, first line, you were five minutes away from our house."

When my mom told me that my dog had been in the accident with me, it took a while for me to even remember the dog that I had. But she managed to have her put on ice in order for me to see her again once I was ready. And when my brain had recovered enough...

I went to this pet place and they took her out of the freezer and I got to hold her for a little while and with my very injured brain have some memories come back of what a wonderful dog she was and the fantastic experiences I was able to have with her.

It was after this final hospital, when we were released and could go home, that I really started to feel everything all at once. These feelings ranged from anger to sadness to any other negative word out there. That is what I was feeling.

I had thought that I had been so emotionally confused before my accident, but this topped it by so much. By this point, I understood what had happened to me and where I was in my life, but I was so mad that all of my friends the same age as me had moved on with their lives and were now in post-secondary education.

When everyone I knew was starting to live their life, I just happened to have gone back a million steps and I had no idea if I would ever be able to match where they were.

I was so depressed and angry and because of all this rage, since I didn't have any way to let it out of me, since I wasn't exactly able to dance anymore, I was just focusing on walking, I felt that the only way I could get out all of these crazy emotions in me was to scream.

But because both of my lungs were punctured by my ribs, these screams would sound absolutely horrific because I had no power to give them. Apart from the screams, I would throw things with as much might as I could, even though that wasn't much because I had lost almost all of my strength from being in a hospital bed.

I was in the worst headspace I have ever and will ever be in, and I would never wish on my worst enemy for them to be in the headspace that I experienced. That's when I started to put my hate on someone, and that's when I started to hate the driver. I blamed him completely for all of this.

But I was so angry that he had died after this horrific collision, but I hadn't. My anger toward the driver was entirely because he had died and I had lived.

If living meant that I had to adjust my life so much to this life that I didn't call life, then I did not want to be here anymore. I wished dearly that I could have passed in the car accident as well. For quite some time, I was very suicidal. I knew that

So far with my rehab in relearning extremely simple things wasn't going to get any easier. I didn't want to have to endure that. I didn't want to have to handle that.

I didn't want to have to relearn how to pee. I didn't want to have to relearn how to slightly bend my legs in order to sleep comfortably on my side. I didn't want to have to retrain my brain to cope with memories and store information. I didn't want any of that. I wanted so badly the easy way out.

I started ferociously judging my healing and my rehab. And although I made leaps and bounds in my recovery, I was always pushing myself for more. And, oh, well, yeah, you did that, but you could do this better. And all of the judgment was coming directly from me.

But I give so much credit to my mom for keeping me in line. And when I was screaming with no lung power and throwing things, she would calm me down and she was able to remind me that I am so loved and that I have come this far.

Why on earth would I stop now? I'm only going to get better. I just had to be a patient patient. Which I absolutely hated hearing that for so long. But at the end of all of this, it was such great advice.

I struggled deeply with finding friends since most of them had moved on with their lives. Although there were quite a few who were still checking up on me every now and then, I just felt so behind.

As I talk about that with my mom, she said, "When something this catastrophic happens to someone that you're friends with, how do you go and talk to them? And what do you talk about? Are they comfortable to talk? Can they even talk?"

So I know that I lost a lot of my friendships or friends were scared to reach out to me because they were scared of how I would react and how I would communicate with them now. And just the unknown, which made me want to just scream and shout to everyone that please contact me, please, because I feel like I might as well be deceased.

I totally, completely understood the situation between my life and theirs. But I was just so pissed at everyone for moving on. And that brought guilt, feeling anger for people who were moving on with their lives. And how could I be angry at them? It was just a constant circle. An endless, vicious circle.

At this time, I was questioning my future in general. From here on in, how am I going to continue living? I can't do this. How am I going to live my life? That unknown was so big. It was so dark. How am I going to handle this complete sadness for the rest of my life?

I had made my future out to be such a negative unknown because I was so unsure of what was happening. When I first got out of the hospital, my memory sucked. I would have to ask the same question ten seconds after I asked it the first time to get an answer again.

But I was so blessed to get the rehab therapist that I did who strictly works on my memory and recall. She's just so full of energy and I clicked with her right away. And her, my hand therapist, my physiotherapist, I loved them all so much.

At the beginning, when I hated everything and my big steps in my recovery, I just looked at as small. As I started to accept my brain more and accept who I was, my healing just skyrocketed.

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Before my accident, I had a very good friend of mine who I considered my best friend, who I would hang out with very frequently.

During all of my recovery in the hospital, this friend was there all the time, was a fantastic support, and I felt very good around this person because this person was from before, and I appreciated that because I needed to be reminded of before.

As my memory kind of came back, I remembered more of what our relationship was before, the best friends. And then I started to feel, okay, maybe I like this person a little bit more than a best friend. And so I shared that with them and they happened to feel the exact same way. And so we started a relationship.

But the entire time, I was feeling constant pressure to become the person that I was before the accident. Because that is who this person fell in love with, and so I need to get back to that so that we can just keep going with where we were, and we can just be reckless teens again.

As I was healing and I wasn't getting back to that person that I was, I could sense a lot of just awkwardness between the two of us. We weren't really happy like we once were because things were different.

Everything had completely changed to the point where two years after my accident, they invited me over and just said, "Well, you know what? I had fallen in love with the Desiree that you were before the accident, and you are nothing less of a person now, but I am no longer in love with you." That hurt me for approximately a day.

And then my mind opened. I thought, "Oh my goodness, he's totally right. I am a completely different person and not in any way, shape or form am I a different person in a negative way."

I can fly now. I can just do my own thing and not have to be consistently comparing myself to who I once was. And I can just go on my merry way being the person that I am now.

I can't explain to you how much freedom and how much of a boost that gave me. My recovery had been progressing very, very quickly and well, and now when this happened? Oh man, it was dangerous how fast I excelled once I had accepted that I can't go back to who I was.

For the next couple of months, I never had that thought that had been in the back of my mind consistently when I was with this person of, "Oh, no, no, no, no. I wouldn't have acted this way before the accident," or, "I wouldn't have had this opinion before the accident, so this is wrong now." That was no longer there.

The amount of freedom I felt, self-freedom, was wild. Something I can't say I've ever felt before. We so frequently were referring to my personality or things I did before the accident that after a while we just short-formed it to instead of saying "before the accident" to be "a" before accident.

then we would start to refer to things after the accident. So we short form that to AA. BA before accident, AA after accident.

My rehab therapist that I love and am connected to so dearly, she said around this time, "Des, it's like you've just exploded with positivity and you are smiling more than I have ever seen you smile and laughing and just joking." Even just something as simple as going to the grocery store. I just held my head so high and my chest was up.

I finally felt that things made sense and I didn't have to feel bad about who I am or my situation or who I'm not anymore. I knew that after what I have been through, I knew that anything was possible. I can do whatever the hell I want.

Growing up, my father was always a part of my life, but in no way did I feel a deep connection with him that I felt with my mom.

Once I got into high school, as I began to form my own opinions and not be as careful with the thoughts that I would share, we started to get into fights because I disagreed with how he was doing something or his opinion on something.

It got to a point where before the accident, I had ended my relationship with him. I wasn't interested in keeping him in my life. I had actually gone and egged his house not too long before my accident because I just had no respect for him and I thought so little of him.

And then after the accident, with my memory and how at the time I was going through my childhood phases. And so if I have my mommy, then I obviously have my daddy in my life. And so, you know, just due to what I wanted, my mom had invited him. And so he was a part of my healing experience. He would visit once a week.

And then just as my brain grew, I began to realize how I actually felt about him. And I said to mom one day after he visited, I said, wait a second, I don't actually like that guy, do I? And she's like, no, I'm very glad you have figured that out now.

And so we cut the visits. And when I was able to finally go home, I got in contact with him and I said, I'm not interested in pursuing a relationship with you. And so we just didn't.

I never could have seen myself being so straightforward and then being completely okay and comfortable with it and feel so proud and sure of what I was saying. I felt like I had gained so much power after that. I felt like I could fly anywhere.

Because of my accident, I went and got a ginormous back tattoo of phoenix wings because I was always compared to a phoenix since phoenixes die and come back to life. And that's what I did. I have said that I just felt like I was flying because technically with my wings on my back, technically I'm able to.

It has been more than four years since my life completely changed. And in those more than four years, I have recovered almost completely. I managed to get back to a life that I am happy with and pleased with and isn't boring. It is just enough for me.

I managed to continue the relationships that I was interested in continuing. I managed to cut out toxic and negative people in my life.

I managed to find self-love and look at all of my scars with adoration and have so much respect for my situation, myself, my experience, my car accident, my body, my brain. I managed to get my license back after my eye surgery.

I managed to graduate from high school, which ended up taking so much work as a brain injury patient, but I managed to do it and I managed to find a job that I not only love, but just appreciate so much. I managed to not be back to where I was physically before the accident, but be so much further than everyone expected me to be.

I managed to get even closer with the person that I thought I could not get closer to: my mom. This has given us the opportunity to form such a wonderful relationship. The most difficult thing about my brain injury has just been to learn its limits.

Coming to terms with accepting it, knowing what I am able to handle, knowing when to limit myself and when to call it quits. I feel that I am able to understand my brain on a whole different level from what I could do before.

I don't feel that my brain is just a part of my body. I feel like my brain and I are like we're good friends. I am now aware of how gentle I need to treat it and how kind I need to be to my brain. Your brain does a lot for you, so treat it with respect and be kind to it and be gentle with it.

I feel I have such an advantage for me to have such a better relationship with my brain since I've had to work so hard to get it. Anything can be taken from you so fast. So cherish what you have while you have it. Treat your life kindly because you can be gone so fast. Your life can be taken so quickly.

You can't see a brain injury, which is just so powerful because if I'm not wearing summer clothing, you can't see my scars. On the outside, I look completely fine. You'd never know how much my life has been changed. And you have no clue what each one of our brains have been through and have experienced.

Because of this, I have been able to look at myself in a way that I've never been able to look at myself before and love myself and respect myself thanks to something I never saw coming. And I don't know what's going to happen, but I feel really good about whatever will happen.

Today's episode featured Desiree Ford. You can find out more about her on Instagram at F-E-S-I-R-E-E-D-O-R-D.

Out of their experience of the accident, Desiree and her mother have also begun holding workshops and speaking engagements for resilience training to help others adapting to major life changes. You can find out more about their project on Instagram at resilientspirit underscore, as well as on their website, resilientspirit.ca. That's resilientspirit.ca. ♪

From Wondery, you're listening to This Is Actually Happening. If you love what we do, please rate and review the show. You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, or on the Wondery app to listen ad-free and get access to the entire back catalog. In the episode notes, you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. By supporting them, you help us bring you our show for free. I'm your host, Witt Misseldein.

Today's episode was co-produced by me and Andrew Waits, with special thanks to the This Is Actually Happening team, including Ellen Westberg. The intro music features the song Illabi by Tipper. You can join the community on the This Is Actually Happening discussion group on Facebook, or follow us on Instagram at ActuallyHappening.

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And finally, if you'd like to become an ongoing supporter of what we do, go to patreon.com slash happening. Even $2 to $5 a month goes a long way to support our vision. Thank you for listening. Wondering.

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I'm Dan Taberski. In 2011, something strange began to happen at the high school in Leroy, New York. I was like at my locker and she came up to me and she was like stuttering super bad. I'm like, stop f***ing around. She's like, I can't. A mystery illness, bizarre symptoms, and spreading fast. It's like doubling and tripling and it's all these girls. With a diagnosis, the state tried to keep on the down low. Everybody thought I was holding something back. Well, you were holding something back intentionally. Yeah, yeah, well, yeah.

No, it's hysteria. It's all in your head. It's not physical. Oh my gosh, you're exaggerating. Is this the largest mass hysteria since The Witches of Salem? Or is it something else entirely? Something's wrong here. Something's not right. Leroy was the new Dateline and everyone was trying to solve the murder. A new limited series from Wondery and Pineapple Street Studios. Hysterical.

Follow Hysterical on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of Hysterical early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+.