I turned my keys and started my ignition, unaware of what would happen on my 5 minute drive home. As I backed out of the parking space at the repair shop, I took it slow, my ears sharp to every change. It was beautiful already. I ran my hands over the dashboard, grateful to have my friend running so well. Already, I could tell how different she was. The bubbling sounds that I had been hearing for months were replaced by a quiet purring hum.
As I pulled out to the road, I breathed in, and took in all the little differences. There was so much more than just the fact that the check engine light that had been brightly nagging for months had finally gone off. As I rolled forward, the whole car no longer wobbled. I turned on my music, because I could finally sing again without my voice being forced to wobble horribly.
As I approached my first light, and gently pressed my foot on the brake, I let out another sigh of relief. I was finally rid of the constant thunk-thunk-thunk that accompanied braking. The car eased to a stop far sooner than I had been use to over the last few months, as well. It took several lights for me to get use to the new break time. At the third light, the relief hit me harder as I allowed myself to let go of the fear that my breaks would be going out soon.
As I let go of that first fear, the happiness and relief took over. I was no longer afraid that my timing belt would snap, causing me to loose steering or break down with my children in the car. I realized that I would no longer feel worried about being stranded with frightened children, trying to figure out how to get all of us home. I was no longer going to decide to stay home instead of worrying about my car. It was very much worth the money to have my car, my children's safety, and my freedom back.
"You're crazy!".
And just, like that, my short-lived relief was replaced by another completely different emotion as the memories flooded my mind. Memories from a year ago as well as memories from just yesterday ran to the forefront of my mind.
When the check engine light came on, it was met with a sigh of disgust towards me for actually thinking it could be something important, because it was surely just the oil. Because "cars don't need oil changes half as often as oil companies want you to think", you kept putting it off. Months after I finally schemed to do the oil change that it needed months prior, the light was still on.
When the dealer told us that the problem was that the timing belt needed to be replaced, you decided that it was better to wait. A year later, I was nothing but a nag for mentioning that we should probably do it.
I brought up my concerns about the breaks as the car took longer and longer to stop, I but I was "just imagining things". It had always been this way.
I noted that the car now wobbled as we drove, to the point that it was making me nauseated. "It's all in your head".
I noted that the car now went "thunk, thunk, thunk" as the break was applied. "It was always that way. It's just the anti-lock breaks".
I said that I really didn't feel safe driving with the kids in the car anymore. "You're crazy. Get a grip. Nothing is wrong".
"It's always gotta be something with you, doesn't it?".
"Something always has to be wrong. You must just want something to be wrong. It's like you don't just want to be happy".
"I don't hear anything. You don't hear anything, either".
"Stop being ridiculous."
And while all of these words came to my mind, I also knew I could never mention them to you. The next time something happens with the car, I might have a bit more faith in myself to know when something is wrong. I might have some faith that it's not "all in my head", but I know better than to talk about it with you, because I know what the response will be now that someone else validated my sanity: "I never said any of that". "That never happened". "You're making shit up again". You will do your very best to bury that validation that I received from someone else, and attempt to make me question myself and the world again.
But I don't want to do that. And, as my eyes fill with tears while I drive, I vow to myself that I will not let anything get in my way when I get home, so that I can write this down ro remind myself, and to warn others.
Because this is my life. The repair shop may have given me a moment of validation, but there are countless areas of my life that I will never get outside validation for. You make sure of that. The next time I feel you or anyone else trying to wage that war in my own mind mind, I hope I remember this moment. I may have won a battle, but have a long way to go in this war. I want to learn to believe in myself, and to trust myself. And I want other people to know that they are not alone. I now know what it feels like to have your thinking validated, and I hope that this makes someone else feel that way, too. Please share this.
