Self-hate

This weekend was a rough one. And today was no better. My back is out and I’m in a lot of pain. But Saturday was traumatic. And I had been feeling so much better since starting Zoloft again and starting OA.

We live in Queens without a car so occasionally I gripe that it takes so long to get places on the weekend with the bus or subway. My boss was going away so he asked if I could watch his car. It would save him the trouble of paying for airport parking since we have to move cars in NYC for street cleaning once or twice a week. I would be free to take it on trips. The only thing is that it’s a manual/stick shift. I had one for years in the 90s but haven’t driven one since 2001 when I moved back to NYC.

So I was looking forward to taking lots of little car trips this past weekend and next. And I wouldn’t have to pay for a Zipcar or an Uber. Saturday we were supposed to see my extended family up in the suburbs. My husband couldn’t come because he had to work, so it was my first time driving with the girls without someone to help entertain them/keep them from whining/crying/screaming. 

I think I was riding the clutch too hard in the stop and go traffic because I kept seeing the RPMs go up and it would rev too much. On the highway by Yankee Stadium it was smelling like something was burning and when I got on the George Washington Bridge the clutch stopped working and I couldn’t move the car. I felt like an absolute idiot stalled on the GW and was so scared someone would read-end us. And my youngest was screaming to get out of her car seat. Had to be pushed by a port authority guy to a gas station in NJ. There I was on my phone trying to get a tow truck trying to see if we could still see my family, while still dealing with tantrums and corralling the girls. But ended up being towed backed to Queens. 

I’m very thankful no one was hurt but I’m still so upset that I couldn’t drive it properly, now my boss knows what a bad stick driver I am, I have to pay $1100 to fix it plus $270 for the tow, and our 4 days of happy day trips are ruined. My adrenaline was pumping Saturday and now I just feel like I’ve crashed. A zombie. 

It seems like it just takes one little bad thing to cause me to back into a depression spiral.😞

I suppose at least I don’t have to worry about parallel parking it for a few days…

And apologies if you were stuck in horrible traffic on the GW because of me. But thanks for not rear-ending us!

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