Charissa Graves
From the Graves
Once again, I have aged.
I’d say that I didn’t notice it happening, but that would be a lie. I’ve felt every minute of it.
Since turning 22 this same time last year, most of my time was spent unemployed and in academic limbo, acutely aware of every moment that passed. I tried to fill it with whatever I could, and some good came from that; I learned new skills, made new friends, and had new experiences. Underneath it all, though, was this gnawing feeling that I was becoming a waste, a shell that had been told it had potential and then discarded at the bottom of the sea.
Thankfully, I had a good support system in my family and friends; I still do, although most of them are a lot farther away now. They helped keep me from sinking entirely.
So, for about eight months, time passed extremely slowly for me, every day a void to try and fill (I usually didn’t, despite my best efforts). And then, almost four months ago, I got the phone call that led to me attempting to pack up my life and move halfway across the country in a week.
Suddenly, time was moving very, very fast. Then, a month later, I got hit by a car, and there was a super fun dichotomy between the speed at which things moved around me, and the speed at which I could feel myself recovering.
Now, a few months in, I’m here, I’m settled, and I don’t feel like time is my enemy anymore. It’s funny, considering that this is a profession ruled by deadlines, but those don’t seem nearly as daunting as the arbitrary time constraints I put on myself before.
I’ve written a good deal already about adjusting to life with disability, and I don’t want to belabor those points too much, just in case I decide to write a memoir later, but I’ll just say again that it has had a significant impact on my life this past year. Mostly, it’s made me slow down and take care of myself, which I hate and have never been good at.
As far as I know, there are no fun milestones associated with turning 23. I’m one year closer to death, and that’s about it.
I’m not at all where I thought I’d be right now. I thought that I would be stronger, wiser, and that I for sure would’ve gotten my degree by now. By the time I made the decision to come out here, it was supposed to be temporary. I thought maybe I would get some freelance work to make contacts and keep myself afloat.
It’s dramatic to say, much like most of what I write, but for the first time in my life it really feels like I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. It’s like a much more intense version of the feeling I got when I was in middle school and I picked up a camera for the first time and learned that telling stories was something I was capable of.
I have no idea what the next year will hold for me, but I do know that I’m very excited to be spending it here. I hope that it will be full of just as much learning and growth as this last one has been, though it would be nice if it were a bit calmer, if only for the sake of my spine.
Charissa Graves is a reporter for The Hutchinson Tribune. She can be reached at: charissa@hutchtribune.com.