I’ve become so good at hiding my emotions from other people that I also hide them from myself. Then, when I completely break down, I wonder what am I feeling and why? Granted, this has always been a problem for me, but today… mercy. I’m sitting here crying my eyes out with this heaviness in my chest, a panic attack trying very hard to take control. Today… I feel helpless. I feel insecure. I feel ashamed. And I feel frustrated.
There’s a lot going on – some very real problems, some probably imagined. One of the very real problems is that we’re having transportation issues. We both own older, ’90’s model vehicles. KR’s truck began giving him problems a few weeks ago. The transmission needs replaced. This is a highly costly repair, not to mention KR is having a problem finding a replacement transmission; so he’s been driving my car back and forth to work. Yesterday, I had a therapy appointment. I had a few different options for getting there. In the end, we decided that I would ride with KR and his coworker (more about him in a moment) to work so that I could take the car from there to do some much-needed household shopping – pet supplies, groceries, and nonfood items – as well as get to my appointment.
After dropping them off at work (about a half hour’s drive from where we live), I had close to an hour and a half before my appointment. I decided to take the scenic route because I had the time. Tennessee has some of the most beautiful countryside views I have ever seen – rolling hills, wide open spaces, and curvy roads that simply make driving here fun. Now, for some reason, there are two highways in this area that I constantly get confused. I have no sense of direction; and like I told my therapist yesterday, “I would get lost in a bucket.” Getting lost has always been a game for me, ever since I began driving at the age of 17. Get lost; find my way back. I’ve often taken the opportunity to drive just for the pleasure of driving and exploring. However, I actually had someplace to be; so I ended up backtracking in order to get myself to my appointment on time. Luckily, I made it there with 15 minutes to spare.
After my appointment, I decided to go for a walk at a local park since I haven’t had the opportunity to get any exercise outside lately. After that, I did all the shopping and went back home to unload everything. Finally, I quickly ran through a few of my daily chores and relaxed for about an hour before having to go back out to pick up KR and his coworker. On our way back home, my car’s battery light came on. Great. Other than the serpentine belt, I’ve had no problems with this car. KR spent the morning replacing the alternator. He ended up driving his truck to pick up the alternator for my car at Auto Zone ($153 later); and his transmission seized up. He left his truck parked somewhere, and took a taxi home. And he was late for work.
I feel guilty because I feel responsible for this chain of events due to my little driving excursion. KR expressed his stress over this added financial burden before leaving for work.
And, of course, the coworker who rides with KR to work was also late for work today. He depends on KR to get him there. I’m not really sure how this arrangement came about, but he’s been riding with KR for a few months since he has no transportation of his own. As far as I know, he doesn’t even give KR gas money. Until yesterday, I had no idea just how far KR was driving to pick up and drop off this coworker from where he lives. I think he should, at the very least, be giving KR gas money for the extra miles per month that he’s driving. Even if it’s only an extra 4 miles as KR says, that adds up. Gas is expensive. Personally, I think this coworker is taking advantage of KR’s kindness. And I don’t like it.
I also don’t particularly like this coworker due to other impositions he has placed on KR, including added stress. Yesterday was only the second time I have been around this coworker. After our first encounter in which I will admit that I was extremely irate over what he was asking KR to do, the coworker told KR that I was scary. That particular morning, he must have called our house a half-dozen times, waking us up. He then shows up on our doorstep asking KR to pee in a cup for him because this coworker couldn’t pass a drug test to get hired on as a permanent employee. Damn right I was pissed; and I feel completely justified in my anger! I don’t want people like that in my life. Period.
However… there’s one reason for my dislike of this coworker that is completely irrational… hence, an imagined problem that causes me to second-guess all of my other reasons for disliking him. He’s a very large, black man who reminds me of my second rapist. I sincerely apologize if this sounds racist or prejudiced because I know in my rational mind that I shouldn’t associate a race of people to a past victimization; but this coworker’s mannerisms, attitude, behavior, and overall physical appearance is so similar to the man who raped me that I can’t get it out of my head! Last night… as I sat waiting in the parking lot of where KR works… in my car… in the dark… waiting for KR to finish working, I was so thankful that this coworker did not immediately get into the car with me when he came out first. He waited outside the car until KR came out… what felt like an eternity later. So, yeah, there’s that… and the odor of sweat (?) that lingered in the car. KR drove home; and I sat in the backseat, staring at the moon most of the way home.
There’s comfort in those craters.