I fell 10 metres from a cliff.
I was Hospital for 4 weeks, and medical rehab for 2 months
On 10 July 2021, I fell 10 metres from a cliff, resulting in a Traumatic Brain Injury. Without my memory, supposedly it was one of the hardest extractions to get me out, and resulted in being in a coma in ICU for 10 days. I don’t remember the exact moment of waking up, but I’m sure my friends and family do. I was then in the Hospital for 4 weeks, and medical rehab for 2 months.
I remember my dreams – they were pretty funny
It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment I woke up, but I do remember the dreams I was having either in or out of my coma. They were pretty funny, one dream was that they were asking to do Bachelor auditions in the hospital (I said yes obviously), that I was in a self-love hospital, that Dom Pérignon invited me to a boat party and I was with my brothers girlfriends family (whom I have never met, but turns out they were praying for me).
By the afternoon, I would be completely drained, intense fatigue, brain fog and crying daily
The immediate impacts of my brain injury were incredibly challenging. I lost my sense of balance and had to rely on railings and someone supporting me every time I tried to walk. By the afternoon, I would be completely drained, experiencing intense fatigue, brain fog, and struggling to think clearly. I later discovered I had extremely low iron following the accident, and receiving an iron infusion made a world of difference.
Without a doubt, the most significant impact of my brain injury, both immediately and long-term, has been on my emotional health. I cried daily, often in huge, uncontrollable outbursts. My main triggers were feeling overwhelmed, frustrated, and especially the week before my menstrual cycle. At times, and still now occasionally, I feel like I don’t have full control over my emotions. These outbursts led me to spend a lot of time alone.
My hormones were also greatly affected—I began experiencing painful periods, irregular cycles, and PMS for the first time in my life.
I told the nurse I planned to move to Bali in a few months—oh boy, was I in for a shock.
When I first realised I’d experienced a brain injury (the staples in my head were a bit of a giveaway), I resisted listening to doctors or trying to fully understand what had happened.
I knew that whatever I believed to be true about my condition would shape my reality, and that understanding of the power of our belief system served me deeply in my recovery.
I remember telling a nurse I planned to move to Bali in a few months—oh boy, was I in for a shock. The early stages of recovery were anything but easy. One thing that helped was going to the gym with people in their 80s who had just had strokes; they were full of joy, cracking jokes and listening to Elvis, reminding me I had so much more life to live and a second chance to live it. Gratitude began to sink in.
A diverse team of rehabilitation specialists played a huge role in accelerating my recovery.
During my initial recovery, I lived in hospital rehabilitation, which involved daily appointments with a physiotherapist, speech therapist, and occupational therapist. I then spent around two months in outpatient care, continuing work with those specialists.
After that, I took my recovery beyond the hospital walls and began seeing an acupuncturist, therapist, nutritionist, and naturopath. Having a diverse team of rehabilitation specialists played a huge role in accelerating my recovery.
What really mattered wasn’t what I thought had mattered
Because I couldn’t handle stimulation, I’d lie in a dark, quiet room with no phone or TV. It was during COVID, so I couldn’t have many visitors—but my parents came every single day, and their presence was the highlight of my world. That’s when it dawned on me. The energy and focus I put towards work success, making money, being super busy, and on-the-go didn’t actually matter.
What DID matter, when all of that was taken away from me, were two things: the relationship I had with myself and how I sat with myself while I had zero distractions and stimulation, and the relationships I had with other people, in particular, the quality of them.
Since then, this has been a huge way I’ve led my life, zooming out and understanding that I could quite literally die tomorrow. So what’s important is scheduling time for loved ones, giving them unconditional love and support and slowing down to enjoy the ride. The love and support my relationships gave me at this time, especially my parents, is what got me through every day.
I wanted to rush back into my life – my impatience was actually the problem here
One of my biggest symptoms was getting overwhelmed extremely easy. I wanted to rush back into my life, and felt annoyed about the idea of slowing down and relaxing. My impatience was actually the problem here, not the fact that I got overwhelmed.
This taught me a lot about valuing delayed gratification rather than instant gratification. Also, that overwhelm is rarely a symptom of having too much in front of you going on. It’s your racing thoughts about said things going on that cause the overwhelm. So i learnt to pause, breathe, return to the present moment and control the only thing you actually can control – your thoughts and breath.
When I started to feel my suppressed emotions and trauma the healing process started to flourish.
The recovery process was a lot more lengthy and tedious than I expected. Honestly, remaining delusional and positive mostly served me – if I imagined what was to come then I would have been SO much more anxious and unstable. The reason I say mostly, is because what I would do differently now is really sit with the uncomfortable emotions I was experiencing rather than always be in ignorant and fixing mode. It wasn’t until I started to feel my suppressed emotions and trauma that the healing process started to flourish.
No one is invincible.
Falling off a cliff and nearly dying taught me that no one is invincible. While I don’t think it’s productive to be scared of death, considering it’s inevitable. I do think it’s important to take into consideration that drinking copious amounts of alcohol or being a bit young, dumb and irresponsible can lead to traumatic and impactful things. So, keeping yourself safe while still having fun is the sweet spot. Having a positive relationship with death now really serves me.
Breathwork, deep breaths, time in nature, movement and meditation – helped me move on with my life.
The recovery process showed me how important it was to ensure your nervous system is regulated, above anything else. When I focused on doing things to regulate my nervous system such as breathwork, deep breaths, time in nature, movement and meditation, it allowed me to get out of survival states of overwhelm, emotional and anxiety and have the foundation to effectively move on with my life instead of letting my trauma impact me. When I switched up my recovery and healing process to specifically focus on nervous system regulation, my recovery process skyrocketed.
I now teach breathwork across the country.
It wasn’t until I began practicing breathwork regularly – and became a certified breathwork practitioner – that everything began to truly shift and heal. Breathwork became my lifeline, and still is to this day. It helped me regulate my nervous system, process and release emotional overwhelm, significantly reduce anxiety, improve my sleep, and most importantly, reclaim my power during one of the most challenging seasons of my life.
Today, at 29, I live by the ocean on the Gold Coast, run the business of my dreams, earn more than I ever have, and feel the strongest, healthiest, and happiest I’ve ever felt. I’m surrounded by an incredible partner, beautiful friendships, and loving family. I’m active, thriving, and genuinely fulfilled—and breathwork played a huge role in getting me here.
If you or someone you love has experienced a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI), please know you’re not alone. I’d love to offer online Transformational Breathing Sessions to support your healing and recovery journey. Reach out via email at emma@sheflourishes.com.au
Emma