I woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating, clinging to my stuffed dog, Patch, trying to calm down. "It was only a dream," I told myself. "It was only a dream." I tried to shake the image of the nine-headed-snake-spider that had chanced me for several unrestful hours. My legs felt like rubber from the thought of running so fast, but not fast enough. I took deep breaths, forced myself to get out of bed, drink a glass of water, stretch and ease back into bed. I thought about happy things as I laid back down, trying to preemptively counteract the next potential bad dream I could have. My heart rate steadied, my breathing slowed and eventually I was able to settle back into sleep that was spider-snake free.

There are many times when I have wished that life could be like this. Not like the running from a horrible nine-headed-snake-spider part. No, I wish life could be like the part where I force myself to get out of bed, calm down and get back in bed for sleep. I wish I had that much control over my breathing on a regular basis, so that I could handle any situation and be ready for the terrors of reality.

On the first day of my junior year of high school, I almost died in a horrible car crash. Out of all the things in my life that I vaguely remember (my memory is just absolutely terrible), I remember this one the most vividly. I remember, my neighbor/friend was sitting directly in the car behind me-imagine the look on his face when we got to school after I survived. I was driving my old white Ford Explorer, Storm, and was trying to be the studious student that arrives early at school. I waited for the traffic to clear, but it seemed hopeless. I realized that I was going to have to take a chance and turn out of my neighborhood onto pavement that was slick with rain as fast as I could (BIG MISTAKE). I slammed on the gas and whipped out of the neighborhood, only to lose control over the car, hydroplane and swerve into the other lane. I looked up in horror to see that I was staring into the front of and oncoming eighteen-wheeler. This was in fact "The End", but I managed to pull the car back into my lane and continue forward. It was so quick; I could almost pretend that it never happened. I breathed deeply and tried to calm down, celebrating that I was alive. I was back on the road and continuing forward, peacefully.

I cannot explain why thinking about this experience is so cathartic to me. Probably because it makes me so grateful to be alive. I love to dwell in the memory of that moment, when I regained control, took some deep breaths and just kept moving. Sometimes Life gives you a hydroplaning-into-the-front-of-an-eighteen-wheeler moment and you realize that you are strong enough to calmly direct yourself back into the right lane. Remember, you are stronger than you realize. Breathe deeply. Carry on.