They say to start the healing process, you have to be open about what happened. So I'm taking that first step. I will apologize in advance for any inappropriate language if it pops up but I'm rolling with a "type-and-forget-it" mentality.
Friday started off with not much, just gaming, and getting ready for work. Still waiting the second paycheck that was supposed to be delivered on Halloween, but didn't.
So that meant I had to cancel out of a party I wanted to go to after work. Bummer. I was upset that I cancelled on my friends for the second time in a month due to paycheck issues, and mostly because it was going to put a strain on negotiations for a possible winter tour with them in 2014.
Regardless, I went to work, dressed up, late to start, and driving as fast and legally as I could. Took shortcuts, had little to worry about with traffic that afternoon, made good time, and then it happened.
At the exit off the Mass Pike, I rear-ended someone, by not looking in front, when I was trying to find a clear lane. Bad timing. Very bad timing. I made sure to meet them at the next stop to talk it over, and that's when shit started to go south.
She walked out, and she had one leg. That just made the events harder to deal with. Hitting a disabled person (not sure how you define it) is a lot worse than just hitting someone.
Information exchange and negotiating to pay out of pocket for what was a small dent in a plastic bumper was the gist of it. Nothing more, nothing less. I got back in my car, and exploded. I was mad, going to be late for work again, got into an accident, and I couldn't do much about it. I called home to let my mom know what happened, and debated if I should have come back home, called out of work and explained the scenario.
I didn't. I went to work. When I shouldn't have. While I was angry and not in the right mindstate. I couldn't vent. I just had to do the worst possible thing: ignore how I felt and bury it.
Somehow it worked. I don't know how but it did. Of course I was concerned about the car in the back of my mind. And I was relieved when I got back that nothing else had happened to it.
And then the second impact happened.
Driving home, the car is acting funny, the temperature light is at it's peak. I was worried but I realized I had to get home.
I stopped at a Burger King and I looked it up. Turns out I had flirted with death again, only this time I could've died in a flaming car. Or killed someone else via the smoke from the exhaust pipe. I was shaken up. Again.
I got home, and then I learned the car was in serious trouble. Seriously in danger. And while my dad had come to help me, the first thing he said about how he was thinking about my sister, instead of how I had all that bullshit happen to me and no time to comprehend all of it, irked me.
I went into isolation for the next day. Didn't try to talk to my parents about anything, and if I did, I was only met with replies of get over it or it's not just about you.
So...I'm supposed to deal with the fact I nearly died. I could've killed someone on multiple occasions. I have no way to get to work. I got into a car accident. And just put all of that beside me.
OK, fair enough.
I hate it, I really do. I'm more alone than ever right now, my whole life is uncertain, and I can't ask my parents for a damn thing because I'll just get looks of apathy and of disgust.
So unless there's some sort of deal struck this week where I can borrow money for the commuter rail and go to work, or the car gets fixed in time for Tuesday and I'm allowed to drive it, I'm stuck at home, unable to go to work, losing out on a big amount of hours that would help my holiday paycheck, and instead of being out and about, I'm trapped at home, having to deal with how badly I'm messed up.
I wish I could talk to my parents but their apathy reassures something: if I had died, I'd probably be seen as a blessing in disguise to them, their big financial burden gone in a flash.
Messed up? Yeah. But this whole situation is messed up. And I wish it wasn't this way. And yet it is.
