For the past few months, my body had been healing, but my mind had not. My anxiety was completely out of control, panic attacks would come upon me suddenly and without warning, insomnia had become a normal part of my routine, and my tears that started with the accident continued to plague me. I needed help.
     This wasn't a talk it over until I was better with Mike kind of problem. Or go out with my girlfriends for an evening type of depression that just needed the company of a few good friends to take away. This was the dark, soul-crushing place that I hoped to never visit again, and now that I had returned to the land of the cracked and broken, I was stuck. I needed help finding my way out, someone who could point out a few new road signs so I could pull my...

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