Yessssss. Finally have internet! Days later than I was told we would but still! INTERNET! The act of getting internet was a Sisyphean task that will probably be talked about later. For now having something that I wrote last Friday!
I’m so glad we have all our stuff moved over to our new place. I’m so glad most of it has even gotten unpacked though there is still a humongous pile of Tupperware sitting on the counter, waiting to be washed and there are still too many things that need to stay in boxes for right now because the thought of finding Happy Homes for their contents or having to do anymore organizing makes me want to cry.
I have had to be a Responsible Adult a LOT in the past week or so and I have hated every second of it. It’s like a prison sentence where I am just laying in my bunk, a giant bundle of nerves and anxiety, counting down the days where I can be free to be irresponsible and not have to care about any of this crap anymore.
It doesn’t help that even though I have been doing a pretty good job at being responsible and Getting Stuff Done there is a big voice in my head saying helpful things like, “YOU SUCK. YOU ARE SO IRRESPONSIBLE. YOU HAVE ACCOMPLISHED NOTHING. WHY DO YOU TRY? JUST GIVE UP AND PLAY SOME MORE SKYRIM.”
Like with my car. I have been doing all the good adult things that I need to do since my car accident but I still feel like I haven’t done anything.
Car accidents are never fun. Especially when you keep replaying the scenario over and over again in your head, trying to figure out what you could have done differently before ultimately accepting it was a situation you had zero control over, which sucks in its own myriad of ways.
So what happened? Well I was driving west on the interstate, heading back to the old place with Matt to try to get one last pile of stuff out. So we could be Done. Red had already gone ahead of us in his van and was expecting us at the house.
We were not a half mile from our exit when I noticed a highway maintenance truck backing up in the left shoulder. “Huh.” I remember thinking, “That’s pretty weird. I wonder what he’s up to?”
It was then that I noticed a large pile of chunks of wood in the road ahead of me. I leaned a little to the right to not run over all the wood. That’s when I saw the Log.
Or more accurately, that’s when I saw the Log get grazed by a car to my right, sending the Log directly into my path. I swerved left to avoid it but it was too little too late. I hit the log full on with the right side of my car, sending us flying (Matt banged his head pretty hard on the roof of my car).
I remember yelling, “FUCK!” when we hit and somehow keeping my head enough to keep in control and get to the shoulder. I sat there for a second, only aware that my hands were shaking so bad that I struggled to put my car in park and put on my hazards.
In my rearview mirror I saw the highway maintenance truck stop in the middle of traffic so the guy could leap out and get the log out of the road. It was thicker around than my thighs and was close to two feet long. I hadn’t even cracked it.
The maintenance worker pulled up behind us and he and Matt started discussing what looked like the damage to my car. There didn’t seem to be any frame damage but my right passenger tire was obviously shot. I managed to remain clear headed enough to remember where my spare was and how to access it and where my jack and jack spot were before I just sat back in the car and kept trying to call Red.
With the maintenance guy’s help (seriously, this guy was amazing) my spare got put on and my old tire was thrown in the back. Once we got it off we saw that not only was the tire split down the middle but almost an entire third of my wheel was destroyed as well. Metal sheared off as if it were Styrofoam. (Log: 1 My Car: 0)
He even followed me all the way back to the old house to make sure the spare wasn’t going to just pop off and roll away (a fun mixture of comforting and fear inducing to be honest. I mean, no one wants to be told that the person who just put your tire on is worried it might pop right back off after you start driving. But it’s the thought that counts I guess).
Technically as far as accidents go, that one was exceedingly mild and went as well as anyone could hope. But I still felt like such a failure that it didn’t even occur to me that I had done anything right until just as we were getting ready to leave the shoulder and rejoin traffic. Matt rubbed my shoulder and told me I had done such a good job keeping in control of the car. “We didn’t hit anybody, we didn’t fishtail, you kept us in our lane and you got us into the shoulder right away. You did really good.” I didn’t really believe him at the time.
We got to the old house and Matt heroically took on organizing and packing stuff while I did the Mature and Responsible thing to call my parents and ask them what the hell I was supposed to do now.
My very wise Dad pointed out that it was possible I had frame damage that we hadn’t seen or hurt my suspension so I needed to report it to our insurance so it could be fixed up proper and not cost us thousands of dollars. As he listed all the people I needed to call and things I needed to file, my chest felt tighter and tighter. I wanted to scream and howl and run away from the whole situation and leave it for the Grownups to fix. Except that I couldn’t because I’m supposed to be a Grownup now (a truly horrifying thought).
I remember hanging up the phone and telling Matt I needed a stress cry before bursting into tears and crying myself out. Then I just sort of laid on the floor for a while, telling Matt, “I just want to lie down here a sec and moan about the fact that everything sucks right now and the world is Poop. When I’m done I’ll get up and help you.” And I did.
I did the insurance song and dance. I filed a police report. I wrote and posted my very sad excuse for a post. And in between all of that I somehow managed to get boxes packed and loaded downstairs in Red’s van.
Monday I got my car to the body shop my insurance pointed to. The man looked over every inch of my car and said that my right “tire-arm” was very bent and I had probably destroyed my suspension as well. I dunno how long it’s gonna take to fix, but with our deductible I know exactly how much I’m going to have to cough up for getting it fixed.
In the meantime I have been sitting at home a lot, waiting for the internet installation to finally take place, and getting Red to drive me places like doctor’s appointments and blood work (where my new doctor reacted to the fact that I have anxiety and a therapist as if I had told her that I have a broken leg but am relying on the power of dance to cure all my wounds. “Best” part about it was that I walked out of there with two prescriptions for anti anxiety medication and antidepressants because I was too chicken to say, “Hey, actually I’m looking to get pregnant, are these safe for that?” Because the woman had made such a big deal about my anxiety that I felt like a selfish monster for wanting to have kids when I obviously have such a big mental health problem. BLARGH).
But yes, technically I am fine. Matt is fine. No one is hurt and we’re all Okay. That’s really the best I can hope for right now. Well that and for the internet guy to hurry up and get here already. I’m about ready to cut a bitch if it means I’ll finally get access to the web again.