Thursday, July 26, 2012

Ode to My Jeep

Crazy pill count: AM 10 Adderall, 30 Cymbalta, 100 Lamictal, 2.5 Zyprexa, .5 Ativan
PM 2.5 Zyprexa, .5 Ativan

I have not been in the best of sorts this past week. I'm actually vastly under-exaggerating. It has been one of the worst weeks in my recent history. A day after the battle I posted about here, I was too soon called back into war. I have been fighting ever since. I have been fighting with a depression like this one. I'm exhausted. Flat out exhausted.

In the midst of this war, the other day, my car died. I have been driving my very first and only car a few weeks shy of fourteen years. We have had some sweet, sweet times together, as well as some rough ones too, as that's how life goes. My dream was to drive my car into the ground. I just didn't know it would be so soon. One could argue fourteen years is not soon, but it feels that way. Of course it's just a car, but I am ridiculously sentimentally attached to her. I'm not embarrassed to admit I cried. Okay, fine, maybe it's a little embarrassing.

Even Dawson, from Dawson's Creek, is sad, 
so you know it must be bad.

We drove up and down the California coast, down to the edge of the Rio Grand, thirty miles off road into the middle of the Mojave Dessert, and across the country multiple times, including this time, when we got busted for driving 115mph on a manic cross country trip. She lived with me in four states, she came with me to eight out of the ten colleges I attended; we became grown ups together. Now, of course I knew she wouldn't trug along forever...well, I kind of did...

I have declared 2012 The Year of Letting Go. And when I declared it, I meant it.
And so that means it's time to let her go.

Wondering what this sad little tune has to do with being crazy?

Rather then try to sell her, or send her to a farm where she would have lots of room to drive in pastures and run with the abundant cats and dogs "who have gone to live on the farm," I have decided to donate her to NAMI. I have referenced National Alliance on Mental Health a lot on this blog, because they do a lot of really great things for people living with mental illnesses and their families. Ends up donating a car is pretty easy and NAMI feels like the perfect place.

My dear, sweet, sweet, girl, you have done me so much good; now go on and do good for others too.


And that I believe she can.

Until next time...




4 comments:

  1. That sucks, to lose your Jeep Baby Friend.
    I am sorry that things are so hard right now. I am sending you big squishy, light-filled hugs in the dark place. I hope you can feel 'em.
    xoxo

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    1. Thank you. I always can!

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  2. I'm sorry about the truck and more so that I don't have any real words today, but I wanted to stop by and let you know that I'm thinking of you. Sending all my wishes that things get easier quickly.
    Take care lovely

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    1. Thanks! I'm already doing better. Hugs!

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