vanity saved me
It was a cold day in November when I fell. Like most
people, I got back up and brushed myself off like
nothing had happened. The train had gone by and on
this day I decided to walk back to my second story flat
that was two blocks away. I phoned my mother who lived
nearly one thousand miles away. I wanted her to know
that I had hit my head.
The next day, I headed out the door and down to the
s t reet. I walked four blocks, but there was no train
station. It was difficult to comprehend that I was lost.
The train station was only two blocks away and I knew
this path well as I had walked it for nearly five years.
But I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong or where
I was.
Unable to fully understand, my personal sense of
perseverance kept me going through the next few weeks
though I had this shattering feeling that my life the way
that I knew it was about to end as I turned left that first
day after the fall instead of right. Then my left hand
totally collapsed. In a relatively short period of time, I
found myself at the mercy of a few friends in the
e n o rmous city and I could no longer envision the clear
path that I had worked so hard for, nor could I envision
my independent life in the city much longer. Even
g ro c e ry shopping became difficult, as did reading the
simplest piece of mail, like the phone bill.
At the time, I had no idea that my brain had been
damaged. Nor did I understand the extent of it. My
coping skills were exhausted and I was fighting my fear
of leaving the comfortable nest I called home, which
was where I needed to rest and recover if that was
possible. In a city of over nine million people, a girl
could get lost. Though I managed for a while longer and
had j
c o m p
skill
e x t re m
h o rr i f
Yet I
w e e k s
after
d i s c u
O n c e
b e g i n
w o r l d
Not o
still,
head
Six m
p o s i t i
m e m o
had just been off e red a great career position with a top company in the Loop, I knew that my confidence and my skill level since the fall had been reduced gre a t l y, so the e x t reme alarm of my judgment of perf o rmance was h o rrifying. At night, I awoke in cold sweats of terro r. Yet I managed to get into the office for a few more weeks. The new job offer did not seem operable, and after speaking to my mother right before Christmas, we discussed my moving to her home. Once I made the move, there was much difficulty in beginning again. There was no book written for this new world. All of the years of study were gone from my head. Not one stitch of information seemed to subsist. And still, I did not understand that I had had a very serious head injury. Six months later, I tried my hand at a volunteer teaching position in a high school, in hopes that it would jog my m e m o ry. My fear was evident to me alone as I began to review old forgotten subjects and teach in front of a full room of students. The fear inside was more acceptable than the possible permanent circumstance that was at hand. In the following months I gave myself a lot to live up to. Sometimes I was embarrassed at my own failure even though I was the only person that knew this. Many months passed and no one really knew my secret. I c reated mental exercises in the outside world in order to help gain my ground again and I never let on to anyone how the work that I made look so simple really was painstakingly difficult. The self-discovery of my own vanity became surprising and a private joke among close friends later on as my memory re t u rned and the fear flew away and my spirit thrived once again. Now, when I listen to the song sung by Carly Simon titled “Yo u ’ re So
Vain,” I know that song is about me….
also published in online @Vanderbilt University’s “Breaking Ground” Magazine Special Arts Edition September 2005
