Robert Thornton

On March 20th, 2020, I wrecked a motorcycle. I was 23 years old. I had been learning how to ride before that for a total of 2 weeks. The reports say that I was going at least 120 mph. I was going around a curve and lost control. I drove off the road, jumped a 6 foot ditch, and hit a cattle post head-on. Bystanders said I flew 15-20 feet before landing in a cow pasture. Due to the wreck, I shattered my left shoulder, broke my neck, and caused significant damage to my brain and skull. I had a global assault on my brain with 3 brain hemorrhages. A subarachnoid hemorrhage, subdural hemorrhage, and intraventricular hemorrhage. Damages to my temporal lobe, occipital lobe, and temporal lobe were noted.

Between 2020 and 2022 I didn’t remember anything about 2020. Not the wreck. Not what happened after. However, I could remember everything before the wreck. I didn’t know what the colors were. My sister came to the hospital and told me to press buttons on the emergency remote attached to the medical equipment in my room. She said that she told me to push the buttons by color and what they did. I asked what colors were which. My sister was my caregiver when I left the hospital. My family said I was distant and acted unfamiliar. I remember feeling unattached. As if I just met them. At first, I didn’t have anger issues. However, my emotions were very irregular. I was sad then happy. I bounced back and forth between the two. I was mainly happy and very easy-going. Despite having FIVE loved ones die from random causes. Wrecks, COVID, old age. I had 2 close great aunts die 3 weeks apart. I felt nothing. I looked at their dead bodies as if they were strangers. “No reason to be upset for the dead”, I would say. The first year I acted as if the entire accident was no big deal. As if I just fell off my bicycle. Until happiness seemed to fade and there was nothing but emotionlessness and depression.

I then rode another bike to help me deal with myself. In July, I wrecked once again. I woke up in the morning and took a ride. I was going 45 mph. I freaked out after seeing the nose of a car pull slightly out into the road. She stopped but my reactions were intense, and I braked too hard. Throwing me over the handlebars and sliding about 50 ft. I rode my bike home an hour later and fell asleep. This was first thing in the morning. After sleeping the night before. After that, sadness, depression, and recklessness kicked in. I had a breakup a few days before Christmas of 2020. That hit hard. With that, everything in 2020 seemed to hit all at once. Depression was out of control. My quality of life plummeted. I was acting out hedonistic endeavors. COVID was in full force. No one was talking to me. I couldn’t see my family because I was around other people so often that they didn’t want to risk me giving them COVID. I understood this grudgingly. I didn’t want to take SSRIs. So, I started studying neurochemistry.

I wanted to get out of the slump. I couldn’t relate to anyone. No one, including myself, understood what was happening to me. So, I traveled alone. Taking long road trips. Staying out of two for 3 weeks at a time. Not telling anyone where I was going. I just drove and slept in my car. I’m a disabled veteran who is allotted a monthly allowance. I used that to survive. My time consisted of driving and listening to Jordan Peterson, Brene Brown, Alan Watts, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and many others. I wanted to find answers about the brain. Psychologically, emotionally, and physically speaking. It was a long, lonely, and difficult task to take on. At the time, I contemplated suicide often. At least once a week. Thought about driving off the road while driving through the Teton Mountains in the middle of nowhere while in a blizzard. My dog kept me from doing that. She didn’t deserve to get hurt and die with me. So, I stayed on the road. Other times, it was a gun pointed at my head while sitting on a hill behind my apartment complex. I had all the reasons to do it, too. I just couldn’t. Truthfully, I couldn’t let myself give up. I felt obligated to get better. Despite how hard it was.

Now, I have a son. He’s 9 months old. A beautiful woman. With no crazy emotional irregularities. I have my days. Anxiety gets ahold of me. But depression and sadness haven’t been in sight for some time now. It took a lot of work. I felt like I had to reinvent myself. Pick and choose the traits I remember having before the wreck and the ones I wanted to keep. I started aiming at a goal and haven’t stopped marching towards it since. If I had to summarize my experience in a single word it would be PERSEVERANCE. I beat the odds. I had doctor’s consults saying that I had a high probability of multisystem deterioration and/or death. The chances of my survival were less than 10%. The chances of my survival and keeping my cognitive functions were even lower. But I persevered. I realize that brain injuries are all different. It depends on the injury itself AND the person. I can tell you this; if you look for answers and you don’t victimize yourself, you’ll find the answers to keep pushing forward. One way or another. Keep moving. As Dori said in Finding Nemo. JUST. KEEP. SWIMMING. Fredrick Nietzsche said, “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how”.