I apologize in advance if this post seems jumbled, choppy or uninspiring. I am coming back to this after almost two weeks. I guess I just felt like if I didn’t force myself to publish something, I would keep avoiding my blog and not write any updates, which defeats the whole purpose of blogging. As such, I have opted to post this, rather than wordsmith and finagle this into the post of a lifetime.
My blood is thick and it’s hot outside. I feel tense and anxious and strong all at the same time. I’ve been so entrenched in work and troubleshooting car repairs, that it’s been difficult to find the time or mental space to sit down and write. Despite the foggy mental space I’ve been in- I feel amazing physically. My consistent workouts, intermittent fasting and energy work have strengthened my sense of vitality and endurance. On top of that, I’ve somehow adapted to the heat and no longer loathe the 80 degree nights. But everything else is in disarray.
My car- my precious companion, whose taken me from the majestic mountains of Colorado, to the humid greens capes of Arkansas and the sweaty concrete jungles of Dallas, Texas to the gentrified nothingness of Washington D.C., is taking a beating. A month ago I took it for an oil change and to get a mystery noise checked out. They said my car just needed some new fluids and sent me on my way. Of course 2 weeks later the noise was back with a vengeance and they couldn’t get me in for 3 days. So I opted to take it to another dealer who said they could have someone look at it that day. 2 weeks, nearly 4 separate car visits and a total of $2,300 later and my car is still not running well. They replaced the entire rack and pinion and I opted to get all the other stuff I was saving up for done as well- 90,000 mile checkup and new tires. It was a lot of money but I figured I could pay half in cash and pay myself back the rest in another week and I wouldn’t have to think about my car for another year or so. It seemed well worth it- until I realized after getting my car back from the dealer that the airbag light was on and the horn didn’t work. Plus there was a loud popping noise coming from the front of my car. How could any reputable mechanic ever return a car back with these things wrong? Especially after so much money was put into the repairs.
So I took my car back and they replaced the steering coil- something I believe they broke when they didn’t lock my steering wheel into place and changed the rack mount. Plastered on various online forums are a bunch of other people who had the same job done and the same issue RIGHT after the rack was replaced. They took it back and agreed to fix the “unrelated error” for free, even assuring me the noise was the sticker left on my new tires. When asked if they test drove my car, my service manager gave me a shaky yes. That was Wednesday when I got my car back for the 4th time and of course there this still a popping noise in the front right tire and the steering wheel is hard to move. I have called the manager 3 times over the last week and received no phone calls back. I have the names of another mechanic who can look at it and scheduled an appointment with another dealer, but all of this takes time I don’t have. Work has become exceptionally busy, requiring late hours for community meetings following the release of a major plan. I’ve also taxed myself with finding a second job to pay off this debt faster, so I spend all my free time at the library cruising Craigslist. Did I also mention I will be in a documentary in two weeks to share how debt cripples Americans? All this and mind you, I am still living in my car, and my car is not working.
The most frustrating thing about this car experience, is how it echoes my own mental health journey and frustration with society. To my mechanic, I’ve become the delusional know it all that googles everything and insists I know exactly what happened and what is needed to fix the car. To my doctors, I’ve become the same girl, who complained that it was the SSRI withdrawal process that caused an acute bout of obsessive compulsive disorder, chronic body pain and unbearable depression. Just like I showered the Doctor’s with scholarly journals and threads from online forums only to be ignored, the car dealership was equally as dismissive. It sucks when people don’t take you seriously. And it sucks even more when you have paid those people to do their job.
But on a more serious note- not having my car has made me realize how important homes are in maintaining emotional well-being. I have spent the entire two weeks in fight or flight and the OCD started to get annoying. As of late, I’ve been thinking about the recent tragedies that struck Ellicott City and Louisiana, and even the wildfires in California. I’m not by any means asserting that my car troubles and voluntary homelessness lifestyle compares anything to the loss of life or economic impact of those events. Just noting how life is constantly taking us by surprise- stretching our capacity to feel and our ability to adapt in times of stress and desperation. I realize just how fucked up things are and how little control we have. As I tell many friends of mine regularly- the struggle is real. Sometimes all you can do is go “oh shit”, this is happening.
Wherever you are and whatever you’re doling, I invite you to take a nice deep breath into any difficulties you are experiencing. Release them, along with any tension in your jaw, shoulders, arms, back and legs. Know that although these are trying times, you reading this proves we are not in the struggle alone.