Facewash and a Car Crash

How does one know if they’re in shock? Is it even possible? When I hear about people going into shock, I think extreme circumstances - prolonged hypothermia, massive internal bleeding, life-altering emotional trauma. But can a person go into a much lesser shock in much lesser circumstances? How would that person know if they do?

I find myself doing a lot of thinking about this after getting rear-ended last Monday on my way to work. A van smashed into the truck behind me hard enough to send the truck forward into me and me forward into the car in front of me. It was a solid thwack. I soon found myself pulled over on the side of a single lane road, loaded up with rush hour cars trying to get by, the third in a line of four banged up vehicles with emergency flashers communicating the obvious to traffic stuck behind us.

As the four of us stood there, it became very clear that nobody was entirely sure what they should be doing. I was fumbling through my phone, trying to find my login information for the Geico app. The lady in front of me was taking pictures of the damaged vehicles. The guy in the truck behind me was on the phone with someone. And the driver of the offending van just kept shaking his head, half mad at himself for what he had done and half feeling like he needed to present an air of remorse in front of we three victims.

Then, once the four of us had broken the ice, the strangest thing happened - we started talking. Joking. Hey where do you work? Oh are you from there originally? Oh yeah I had a cousin who was into that. The lady searched through her phone to find the punchline of her story about reconnecting with an old high school friend - the friend’s recent disheveled mugshot. It was like meeting friends of friends at a party, a group of random people looking to try and connect with each other after being plopped into a confined social setting together. Eventually, the police came, took a report, recorded everyone’s information, and an hour and a half later we were all handshakes and “nice to meet yous” and on our various ways.

Does that sound like a group of people who had just been in an accident?

I went through the process of calling my insurance, getting an inspection set up, leaving work early to take the car in and get a rental. There was something… odd. I didn’t feel hurt, but I didn’t quite feel like myself either. Tense. A little shaky. I took the next day off. Started hearing reports from the rest of the party of four - guy behind me was too sore to get out of bed. Lady I got smashed into had to go to urgent care the night before for a pinched nerve in her neck and shooting pains down her leg. I guess I fared alright - just a headache, some tightness in my neck and shoulders, and a general sense of drowsiness for a day or two.

So… was that shock? Was the nervous small talk on the side of the road a product of us all being in a mild state of shock? Is this some eons-old survival technique where we humans seek community immediately after some sort of trauma?

Very curious. Never been through anything like that before. Won’t soon forget the surreal experience of a spontaneous team-building exercise on the side of the road with three total strangers.

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In other news, I bought some new facewash the other day and it felt like a big step forward for me. You… don’t understand the significance do you? Let me explain.

For years I’ve tended to let my face stubble grow until it gets scratchy and the skin underneath starts turning red. At that point I buzz it back down to ease the discomfort and wait for it to suck once again. The other day I up and decided to research what a guy is supposed to do about that. Oh. Beard shampoo, beard conditioner, beard balm. I’ve… I’ve never even considered such things.

There needs to be a handbook for guys whose fathers didn’t teach them guy basics.

So, as silly as it felt for a guy that’s never actually set out to grow a beard, I ordered a kit. And… wait for it… I was excited to try it out. Spent longer in the shower and in front of the mirror than I have in… god, for as long as I can remember. I don’t know if I used any of the soaps, creams, ointments, tonics, or whatever properly but I’m actively excited to see what they do and if there’s a change for me. Hell, maybe if I’m not always itchy and red I’ll be able to grow something out enough to be a bald bearded tough guy. That’d be pretty rad.

Anyway, the real significance here is that this was the first time in eons that I’ve been excited to do something that takes care of me. My person. The way I look. The way I present myself to the world. I had sort of fallen into a cycle of working on my house, taking care of Vally, taking care of work responsibilities, anything other than myself. Almost mentally avoiding having to take an inventory of myself at all. Like refusing to look at a bank statement that you know isn’t gonna give good news, or not stepping on the scale because you don’t want to face the number it’ll give you.

So, after years of trying and failing to act as if I matter, I up and got excited about a beard care kit. A silly little thing, but mentally a bit of a turning point for me.

Looking forward to seeing this through. Recovering. Better days ahead. Bring em on.

-M