I live in a world where, honestly speaking, I don’t get much of a say.
I have 4 children. One, I’ve placed for adoption (obviously, literally no say there), and the other 3 have a genetic disorder similar to muscular dystrophy. So, life just kind of…happens to me.
I share a nearly 4000sq foot house on 9 acres with my family (husband and 3 kids) and my parents. It’s “my parents house”…so they hold a bit of “the say” when it comes to that. (And I am grateful for them and their allowing us to share the house with them, but don’t get wrong. It is frustrating at times.)
In my life, that I have ABSOLUTELY no control over… I have ONE thing. I have my car. And it’s always been that way. My car is mine. It’s MINE. I drive it, I make the rules, and you are nothing more than a passenger…a temporary guest in my vehicle.
There’s no eating in my car, no shoes (for the kids), no mess. You get in, you sanitize your hands immediately. I’m strict and I mean it and I care. My car is my safe space. And you don’t fuck with my safe space.
My car is the one thing I have. I bough it July, when I was pregnant with Atlas. It’s a 2023 Kia Carnival. And it’s my baby. It’s the one thing I have that’s MINE. I’m very sensitive about it, I don’t want anyone else driving it.
Well, my husband took it out yesterday. Because his car is broken (he’s waiting until a particular model comes out before he replaces his) and the AC doesn’t work in his car. And it was a hot day, so he took mine. Even though I hate it and always tell him not to, I let him because it was hot.
Anyway, he dropped the big kids off at his moms for a few minutes and went to Walmart. Then he calls me and he’s upset and he told me that he “got into an accident”. Basically, someone did something stupid in the parking lot, he had to swerve, and he hit the hitch on another car. The other car was fine and drove away, but my car has damage on it.
I know he felt horrible. So I didn’t even say anything when he called me. I knew he was upset, and I didn’t need to make him feel worse. I just asked if he was okay. Meanwhile, when we got off the phone I started like crying and hyperventilating and panicking.
It might sound stupid, but I’m DEVASTATED. I’m so sensitive about my car. It’s the only thing I have that’s truly mine.
I did drank to calm down yesterday, but not a ton. When he first told me, I thought I was going to explode with emotions. I felt betrayed and angry, and like something was taken from me. I feel like my safe and special thing has been taken for me.
I’m just so upset. I really am. And I can’t even talk about it because I know my husband feels really badly.
I know it could have been worse. Honestly, as far as an “accident” goes, it was really minor. No one got hurt, the kids weren’t in the car, and the car is maybe? Still drivable. Although the tire does have a big gouge in it.
It’s just the feeling. It feels…I don’t know. Dirty. Or wrong. Or not as safe and special as it once was. Not to mention the logistics…I drive nearly 100 miles a day taking kids back and forth to school and appointments. I literally cannot be without a car. I can’t just not be able to transport my kids. And I’m guessing repairs will be lengthy…because everything takes forever here.
Anyway. I posted my emotions last night, and the facts today. You might think this is stupid. Maybe it is. But I’m upset about it. And I can’t talk about how upset I am, because there’s no need to make my husband feel worse than he already does.
I have therapy tonight, which I’m so glad about. We’ve had many conversations about my car, so it feels really good knowing that I won’t have to tell her why I feel that was about it. She’ll simply know how upsetting it is for me, because she knows how I feel about my car.
Yes, it could have been worse. And I’m so, so glad it wasn’t worse. I can recognize that and be grateful.
But it also didn’t have to happen.