Trying to Let IT Go

So I wish I could say not much has happened by it has. Wouldn't be life if it didn't. I recently had a horrible experience buying a car and though I've since sold the piece of junk and bought another car, I'm having a problem letting "it" go. By "it," I mean the experience, process, downward spiral that prompted me to buy the car. So here's my attempt to get rid of it, tell what happened from my point of view and finally let it go.

Before we left Louisville, I had a nice, sporty, little car that we were growing out of. It didn't have a/c and I was in the process of getting that done but then we moved to Owensboro. So after going through a summer of no air in the car, I decided I would get it done by the next summer (2012). Because we had just moved, I didn't have a mechanic and barely knew many people in town. Through one of the church groups I attend, I found a mechanic or so I was told. I'm going to fast forward a bit, the end result was no air was ever put in that car and I was told I needed to hurry and sell it before the pending repairs were needed. It took me almost two months to sell this car. That far exceeded my less than a week norm. Anyways it sold and for way more than I intended to sell it for. That and my school money came around the same time. I was a happy carless (for a few hours) camper.

Fast forward a bit more...the mechanic and his wife had suggested I buy his old work car that had new tires to hold me over for the winter and until I could save some more money. Buying a car from a mechanic seemed reasonable to me. I just needed a safe vehicle to get us to school, the gym, church and back home again. I also had a tendency to want to believe there's good in most people and knowing that I'm a solo parent of a preschooler and a full-time student, surely they knew and trusted the condition of this car they were selling to me. Granted I wasn't a hard sell and didn't have many options but still it was their car so they knew, right? 

Well the first bad sign was the car didn't want to start when I was going to put it in the garage minutes after I handed them the money. That should have been my point of no return but I drew a line at my daughter's safety and I didn't think it was crossed...yet. Second bad sign was when I took it to a tire shop to have the "new" tires balanced and they wouldn't touch the car due to dry rot and cuts in the tires. I was advised, from someone I trust wholeheartedly, that this was a bum deal and I needed to get rid of the car. I was told, by the mechanic, that the shop was just trying to get me to buy tires. Most people would think that my line had been crossed upon finding this out, I didn't feel it...just yet. A week later it rained, the tires skid going uphill and my anxiety started to elevate. Once again I'm told, by you know who, that I was used to driving my other car and not familiar with how to drive this type of car. At this point they're standing on the line. Oh another issue I had was that the dashboard lit up like a Christmas display. Nice for the holidays but not so much for my car. Also there was a stench about the car, possibly backed up fumes, which prompted my 3-year old with speech delay to give it a nickname of "stinky car." I was told this time that he didn't recall those things happening when he drove the car. I was told when I bought it, that it lags about 20-30 seconds when going in reverse. I know, I know...it will be addressed in a bit. I think I made it another week before the next issue surfaced which was it wouldn't start again for about 15 minutes when leaving a store and then again as I coasted into the gas station. When he got a chance to check it out, I was informed, in person, that the fuel injector had blown and  he had only seen that happen when water got into the tank. He went on to tell me that he  filled the car up before he gave it to me so it must have been one of the times I filled it up. Huh? So let's recap, shall we:

• I'm target for an upsell
• I don't know how to drive certain cars
• I notice things that may or may not have happened
• I don't know how to put gas in a car

LINE CROSSED!!! I know what you're thinking, it was crossed long before but I wanted to see if this Christian mechanic was going to try and make good on selling his car to a solo parent and student. I had already taken every last dime I had to purchase another car and find an actual mechanic that works in an auto shop. He doesn't throw his religion in your face and does the job honestly and correctly. So there I was broke with two cars and only driving one. 

I sold the piece of junk car because I was told it's a good car and the issues had been corrected. The young lady I sold it to didn't even make it home without breaking down on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. When I got the call, my heart sank. How did this happen? That would have been me. I paid to have it towed to her mechanic in her town. I had to do right by her even though I had been wronged. We were told that the fuel pump went out and the transmission was on its way out. Long story, short...though I've sold the car, my good and heavy conscience accepted whatever offer she would make if she wanted to keep the car. 

So it's a done deal. The car is no longer mine. I left the group that I met the mechanic's wife from for "personal" reasons. I have no reason to ever interact with these people that put my daughter's life in danger by pawning off a heap of junk car on me. The way I see it is that they knew my situation and still got over on me. Now it's not my style to put them on blast but you better believe I don't refer anyone to him. I really hope for their sake, they stop messing people over and handle business right. I opted not to take this situation to the next level because I'm not looking to retaliate. So breathe easy if you're reading this. I'm not taking you to court. There's a higher judge you'll answer to one day. 

So why am I blogging about it? I'm having the worst time just letting it go. I've spent a number of sleepless nights just staring , praying for and crying over my daughter. I want what's best for her always. I want to protect her always. I need to know that my actions are the right ones. And this time, I put my trust in someone who knowingly did something so potentially dangerous to us. I can't seem to forgive myself though the car we have now is a much better fit. After talking to that very special person, I decided I would blog about it and let it go for good. It's gone! Lesson has been learned. Anxiety is back down to  its normally high level. Now I'm going to finish homework while  we watch our favorite movie...Cars!

Got Therapy?

I told my therapist that one of my meds was making me crazy. Yeah she didn't laugh either. This is not a moment of bashing or dishing unsolicited advice. If you've read any of my blogs or scrolled down to see my profile, you know I suffer from depression and anxiety. I'm not ashamed.

For the past nine years I've been seeing a therapist. Not the same one, I've been through my fair share until I found a good fit. Here's my issue, I've noticed the downplay of mental health within the black and church community. First of all, mental illnesses affect all races and religions. The problem is more people are suffering and too ashamed to get proper help. I'm not standing on the mountaintop bubbling over for joy about this. I do recognize that being mental un-thy requires seeking help to HEAL your mind and body. Maybe a person doesn't need medication and just CBT. That's fine too. I just wish people wouldn't suggest I pray more or act like therapy is a secret. I do pray more and I'm also in therapy. It's like physical therapy for your mind. If your brain is sick how can you expect your body to function properly. Seriously it gets to me each and every time I hear someone make a joke or criticize someone else for their mental illness. It's not like they would poke fun at a physical disabled person.

When I was hospitalized during my pregnancy, I was on an antidepressant until I gave birth. Everything seemed normal or what I perceived as normal for a new, single mom. When my daughter was 10 months old I unknowingly took a test for postpartum depression. I was told I scored so high the nurse wasn't supposed to leave Z alone with me. In my defense, not once have I ever had thoughts of wanting to or attempted to hurt my child. I thought PPD was when a mother wants to harm her kid. I was however overwhelmed with not knowing what I was doing and having to do it all alone. Because I was so sleep deprived, I didn't know which end was up and thought it was normal to feel that way. I began seeing the therapist and she told me that normally she admits patients that score where I did. I told her that if she or anyone else separated me from my child, I would really have problems. (that's the edited version) Through therapy and being a proactive patient I've discovered that PPD is not at all what I thought and what I felt was not normal and healthy.

                                                                    
I'm a better mom now and in the future because I recognized and accepted the help needed to care for my Z. I could write a million blogs to tell you all how much I love this little girl. She has changed my life and made me realize that I need to be well to give her all that she deserves. I have a feeling there are a few other moms that feel the same way and won't get help for whatever reason. Trust me, you won't "just" get over it.

She said it!

Those who know me know I'm nowhere near being a chocoholic. Yet I'm just about ready to inhale this pan of  low-fat brownies. Now that I got that off my chest and it has absolutely nothing to do with this entry, let me tell you what happened.

Z finally said her first French word last week which is papa (means daddy). I am stoked! She's been watching her videos and listening to a CD since she was just a few months old. It was easier to make sure she heard it when she was younger. Now that's she's mobile she will stay in her room to watch bits and pieces. Some days she watches the entire lesson without leaving her room. Anyway, my ultimate goal is to get her in a French immersion school. Why French? I say why not. I would like for her to be bilingual. Whether she continues with speaking French after high school is up to her. There are so many benefits to being bilingual and that's another subject for another day. To get back to papa, she loves saying that word and I love hearing it even if she's calling me daddy. She even sings it to me several times a day.When she watches her lesson I hear her saying papa as instructed. Makes me smile each and every time.

So last night we went to hang out at the coffee shop. Teri was occupying Z by teaching her to say mama. After a minute or so she says it plain as day! I heard it but when she said it the second time I saw it. Almost as if she said it in slow motion and the letters literally came out of her mouth. Well that's how I felt when I saw and heard my daughter (I'm still in shock that I got pregnant and now I'm a mom ) call me mama for the first time ever. She's my sweet pea even though she's working on her terrible two. I look forward to hearing her next French and/or English words.

Pretty Much Love Her

My beautiful baby girl is one year old today. She has been worth every second of two and a half months of complete bed rest, hernia repair surgery and any other temporary discomfort. Just listening to her giggle or getting a wet and sloppy kiss is like having the best Christmas ever. My life has changed in ways no one could explain and yet she's worth it all. Motherhood may not be for every woman however it most definitely is for me! Be blessed.

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