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Cassandra Di Lalla (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

I’m choosing to write about this because I’ve escaped death numerous times throughout my life.

I struggle immensely with my mental health, but I’ve come to accept that about myself. I’ve tried nearly everything under the sun, yet I’m still left with so many unanswered questions. I’ve seen some unusually dark days. I was bullied relentlessly throughout the years by peers, teachers (yes . . . teachers), partners, etc . . . I was beat up, name called, threatened, harassed and the list goes on. It was constant and it was every single day. Cops did absolutely nothing other than say, “Kids will be kids.” The disgust, the anger, the sadness and the hopelessness I felt when those words were said to me . . . unbelievable. Those experiences were a lot to handle and I didn’t know how to cope, but I’m still here.

I’m doing the things I love most. I’m spending time with my family, hanging out with my fur friends, writing, crafting, meditating, enjoying nature and plenty more! I also really appreciate being part of the Low Entropy family—it has made such a positive impact on my life. I feel valued and appreciated.

I’ve been in more car accidents than what I can count on both hands, but I’ll only share a few of them.

I was in a multiple car pile-up collision with my father, so the impact from all the other cars behind us was quite heavy. It was a wild chain . . . the 10th (or so) car behind us was what started it all. Imagine—for all those cars to have hit us with such high impact—the guy responsible must have been absolutely flying!

There was a collision where I can truly say that I survived by sheer luck or miracle, because there was every reason in the book for me to have died that day. And I don’t mean because I deserved to die, I simply mean that, with the way it happened, I’m surprised I wasn’t pronounced dead. I say this because a big truck with a lift-gate backed up right into us, breaking through the passenger side window, directly hitting me. My entire right side was hit and bruised, but I also got pushed as far as the driver’s seat and right into the steering wheel, causing the car horn to go off. The tip of the lift-gate pushed right up against my cheek bone and neck, making it difficult to breathe. I was terrified and I was livid. 

I somehow forced myself up and out of the car in a total rage and I went after the truck driver, yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs and using some not-so-pretty words. Why? Because he had no care in the world about the accident he just caused and what he had just done to my father and me. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. I was worried about my father, I had to make sure he was okay. My anger towards the truck driver kept escalating and there was a point where my father and bystanders had to physically restrain me. I was fuming. The truck driver could have ended my life as well as my father’s and his reaction to what had transpired was absolute trash. “Oh sorry,” was all that came out of his mouth. He didn’t ask if we were okay and he didn’t offer to help us in any way. The bystanders then sprung into action by asking if we were hurt, offered to call 911, stayed with us for comfort and support, etc . . . It was mind-boggling.

I was in another accident with someone other than my father but again, I was the passenger. We got T-boned on my side. It was awful. The airbag dropped in for a visit and I was squished between the airbag and my seat. I had a hard time breathing. They had to unbolt the door to get me out. I was immediately put on a stretcher, given oxygen and a neck brace, and rushed to the hospital. Another miracle. The paramedic was nasty . . . as nasty as you can get. I had voiced to her that the neck brace was a bit tight and she told me to shut my mouth and to stop overreacting all while shaking her head and laughing. There was a cop that came into my hospital room telling me I needed an attitude adjustment. When my brother, mother and father came to the hospital and my father found out about how the paramedic and cop had treated me—he was not a happy camper. Can you blame him? What a disaster!

I have so many others I could share but I’m sure you get it by now. I’m incredibly lucky to be alive and I try not to take that for granted, but sometimes emotions take over and you kind of wonder what your purpose is in life after having gone through all of those things.

Be thankful and grateful for what you have, because nothing is ever guaranteed. There’s definitely someone above you celebrating your existence and pushing you to live happily, so count your blessings. 

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Cassandra Di Lalla lives life purposefully. She enjoys reading, writing and mental health initiatives. She’s an animal lover for life and an innovative individual always finding new ways to create.