I'd definitely say that the car crash broke something deep inside.

I was thirteen when a plow truck sideswiped my mother and me. It was the worst moment of my life even though I didn't realize anything was wrong, but at thirteen it's difficult to have that kind of perspective.

I had crushed nerves in my knee, torn some cartilage behind the cap, and was not going to walk for the next nine months. That was the prognosis, at least. But then I looked to my left, and my mother was crying hysterically. So after consoling her for a bit, I got up, walked to the nearest payphone, called 911, called my manager to tell her I couldn't deliver the newspaper today, and went back to the car to wait for an ambulance. When the ambulance arrived, I walked over it and climbed in, after seeing that my mother was already in the rear, safe and sound. We got to the hospital, I walked in the doors, my mother was taken away, and I collapsed on the floor.

I lost control of my leg for the first time, and wouldn't walk again for the better part of a year.

Something happens when you lose your ability to walk - you find there's a lot you can't do anymore, and consequently you find yourself with much more time on your hands. Time spent in bed, time thinking, time stewing, it's all time with yourself, time alone.

>>>>