That’s right. I finally did it. I sold my baby.
When we decided to move to Colorado my husband got online and found a dream vehicle. He wanted a ‘73 Chevy K5 Blazer that he could bring up here and make his “mountain truck”. Well, we bid on it and won. We met the guy in Oklahoma (at the time we lived in Texas and the seller lived in Kansas so we met halfway) and purchased the lovely creature. It was baby blue and really fit my husband well.
We drove his truck up to Colorado and he took a job out of town for 8 months. Little did he know I would be doing my own shopping for my own “mountain truck”. I contacted him one evening and told him I found “Trixie”. A ‘74 baby blue GMC Jimmy. Same model as his lovely truck, same parts, same color even! He approved and I bought her.
After some engine trouble we had her worked on and things went well for some time. I was driving her one day and heard a knocking noise…NOT the sound you want to hear in a truck. We retired her after some investigating and many people telling us that her engine needed repair. My husband knew how much I loved her and even wrote Overhaulin’ or some other shows to see if we couldn’t get her in shape. Nothing worked and she sat.
Well, as you all know we purchased an ‘06 Dodge Durango (“ticket me” red in color) in November for my birthday. I’ve fallen in love with this truck and really depended on it for most everything while my old ‘74 Jimmy sat, in storage, at the auto place. I got a call that the guy that used to work on “Trixie” rolled his K5 Blazer and had a great engine but no body to go with it. I contacted him moments ago and told him that I was interested in selling her.
We’re supposed to meet next Tuesday and divvy up. I will miss her and she was a good vehicle for me when I needed her, but I realize she’s meant to be driven, not sitting in a parking lot wasting away. Best wishes to Trixie! I know I’ll see her around town looking sharp because the person buying her is a mechanic and he always treated his K5 well.
I shed a tear for her…is that strange? I don’t think so. She kept me warm and pulled many a stranger out of ditches during the winter.
He looked at me and told me he was sorry. He told me that he never meant to hurt me and that I was such a GOOD person back then, he knew I must be today, still. He looked sincere and although part of me wanted to not allow that in or accept the apology, most of me wanted to let it go and move on. I accepted the apology and then I told him that at this point, any further contact would be up to my son.
No encouragements. No discouragements. I would let him choose and decide and to my surprise, he agreed that was best. He said he wouldn’t assume anything at this point as far as what rights he had or what further choices needed to be made. He said that was up to me and that any choices I made for my son, he knew, would be for the best.
I feel wonderful to be free from those horrible memories of the past. I will always carry the scars. I will always bear the mark on my soul…but I won’t have to cover it up with band-aids or bandages any more. I can allow them to heal.
Not really…but I had to say it so that you’d feel the same reaction I felt when I heard that I was one. That’s right. I was talking to a new friend and she had asked a few people if they knew me. One girl spoke up that worked for a mortgage company that I serviced (computer consulting) locally.
The lady that owned it at the time was a very odd person and I never got my final check from her so I left on bad terms. Anyhow, this girl worked in the front office area and I had limited contact with her until we moved last year. When we moved I was fostering some pups and one ran away from home. She ran to this girls’ house and I went to retrieve her. This girl was very nice and I never assumed she felt this way about me. I didn’t act strange (that I know of) or out of order at that time.
A few days ago I heard that she thinks I do drugs. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know it probably makes total sense that someone that moves to a town, has mental issues and then is “sent away” a few times is probably attending a few “rehab” hospitals but…it hurts my feelings that she thinks this. And it makes me wonder how many others think this.
Why would I assume others think the same thing? I saw an old client at a work party my husband and I attended. At this party I walked up to my husband and I had a glass of wine in my hand. The owner looked at me walking up…looked at my glass of wine…and gave me this disgusted look I cannot forget. Wow. Later it hit me! She probably thinks that during my issues it was alcohol or drugs, not mental issues.
Is it better they think this or like me, do you feel this sucks? I hate it and it honestly hurts my feelings. I know I should “let it go” and move on but I can admit it hurts to know that someone…maybe more than one person, thinks I’m a drug addict or alcoholic.
To further stress me out I remember in the past one of my husband’s uncles saying to family that I was probably into drugs or alcohol because he saw signs of it (he is a recovering alcoholic that now does counseling) but little did they know I was in severe therapy and working through some serious past memories.
Flashbacks and such had me whacked out and I was having self-injury issues. It had nothing to do with alcohol or drugs and I can’t do those with my diagnosis because I am always too scared to even try it. UGH!
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I had tears in my eyes although deep inside I wanted badly to hide them and not let him see me cry. I had to remind myself that I was strong and crying showed NO weakness.
I talked about the hurt and I looked him in the eyes and said something I never thought I would be able to say to him. I had heard about it in therapy for years and I was told it must be done. It never made sense to me because I felt that if I said the words it was like saying, “it’s okay that you hit me, hurt me, beat me. It’s okay because it was my fault” and I didn’t believe that.
I learned that it wasn’t my fault. I learned that it wasn’t okay. How in the world could I then say those words? I had to realize that it did not mean any of that. I had to say the words for me. So that I could move on.
“I forgive you.” I said them without feeling like I was admitting any fault. I said them without feeling as if I was giving him or anyone else permission to treat me that way again.
I said the words and it felt so good. And then we talked and he said words to me that I needed to hear.
(more to come)
I’ve been cellphone shopping lately and was asked to write up a review of a site that deals with prepaid cell phones and other options. I currently use Alltel and I am really getting tired of the lack of service areas. When we first moved here I went on a pre-paid plan and Alltel had the best out there. They still do, in my opinion, when you compare price vs. minutes.
Problem is…it doesn’t help your credit and I want something showing how good my payment history has been. In order to get this, I’m going to have to get an account. In this area, service is rated better with Verizon so I’m probably going to switch over to their plans.
We’re looking at family plans and phones right now and I’ve gotten dizzy at the amount of choices that they give when you’re shopping. Free phones, mostly free phones, reviews, photos, etc. It’s amazing and no matter how many reviews of cellphones I do, shopping is necessary.