A few weeks ago, I was driving home for fall break. One last midterm, and I could set the books aside for a brief reprieve and let my brain settle into hours of Netflix and a river of steaming caffeine. It was time to finally see my cats again and revel in the serene fall foliage of my hometown. A five hour car ride was the only distance between me and the sweet scent of home.

For me, car rides are the worst. Unless there is a constant flow of tunes to chip away at the traffic and back pain from sitting in the same position for numerous hours, the journey is not ideal. Jamming, as I normally did with the bass thumping, and taking in the beautiful landscape, I drove on. With only forty minutes to go, I was cruising in the passing lane ... until I wasn't anymore. Instead, I found myself upside down in a crumpled car on the side of a major highway.

Since the accident, I've told this story about a hundred times. Every time I see someone knew, I find myself reiterating the same speech, answering the same questions. No, I was not speeding. Yes, I was wearing my seat belt. I'm fine, yes, totally fine. I'm okay. Except that I wasn't. I was a wreck. The accident was so bad that my father cried when he saw the car I managed to crawl out of. I walked around for about two weeks with a smile on my face while my insides melted in a vat of tears. I was told a million times that it was a miracle I walked away unscathed and that no other vehicles were involved. But none of these sentiments made me feel better; they actually made me feel worse. I felt guilty, like I was screwing up not only my own life, but my family's as well. I had numerous meltdowns about school and trying to work from home. I was on the brink, the point of no return. I wanted to give up, because as we all know, I'm a quitter.

Except I didn't. I came back to school and work after being home for three weeks recuperating. I finally felt like I could face people - my friends and professors. I felt semi-whole again, and that is the message here. Life happens in the blink of an eye. My life changed in an instant. Accidents happen in a millisecond; that's all it takes for something tragic to happen. I now know that my guardian angel was on my shoulder that day and this past month because the odds were definitely against me.

I'm here to tell you that it's okay to not be okay, because I'm still not fully okay. It's okay to feel guilty and depressed sometimes because these moments shape and strengthen us for the future. When I say that I wanted to give up, I mean that I felt like I couldn't continue down the path I was going. I was too stressed all the time and worried about getting to the finish line faster, and for what? All it caused me was high blood pressure and hives to boot. So, my personal take away is that I need to slow down in life and actually live. I just turned 21 years old, and I haven't even enjoyed the life I've had thus far.

So, live. Do not take life for granted because I most certainly have. If you're not okay, that's okay. Take each day as it comes and do not be afraid to take chances; one day there won't be any chances left.