So, here we are in May. March and April were the most emotionally challenging months of my adult life. Lots of crap just happened, and if things had happened one by one, scattered over the span of, say, a year, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but it felt like everyhting just dogpiled. Grandpa had a mini-stroke, Chloe got really sick, Chloe died, some HR nightmares happened at work . . . and some guy reversed into my car with his company-issued vehicle while we were stopped at a red light, then proceeded to tell my insurance agent that I rear-ended him. It was just one small nightmare after another, and I felt like I was constantly putting out fires while basically running on fumes.
So, obviously, the Chloe thing never got better. She’s gone, and it sucks. For a while, my mind was so busy trying to forget how painful her last days were that I wasn’t able to remember any good times, either. For a while, I wanted to throw things at well-intentioned people who mentioned the Rainbow Bridge. (Sorry if y0u were one of those people — it’s not you, it was me.) For maybe a week, I was so overcome by grief that I would just cry. Every time someone said they were sorry, I wanted to cry all over again, because no matter how sorry they were, I was even more sorry. I couldn’t sleep at night, but sleeping was all I wanted to do during the day. Classic depression, I know. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t have much enthusiasm for life, either. I really identified with lyrics from Switchfoot’s song, “Yet,” where the first verse goes like this:
All attempts have failed
All my heads are tails
She’s got teary eyes
I’ve got reasons why
I’m losing ground and gaining speed
I’ve lost myself or most of me
I’m headed for the final precipice . . .
But somehow, I couldn’t really get to the verse — to the whole object of the song, which was hope. I was hurting so much, I just couldn’t get it.
Then one day, I was just better. I could laugh again. I could wake up and not dread having to pull myself through another day. I had prayed and prayed for this to happen, but the longer the sadness dragged on, the more it seemed like there would be no end to the pain, until one day, it’s as if I just snapped out of it. I could finally really “hear” the verse: . . . but you haven’t lost me yet. I’ll sing until my heart caves in. No, you haven’t lost me yet.
The accident thing is still ridiculous. With the insurance company’s approval, I finally got my car fixed yesterday, but the entire ordeal has been a struggle. A number of people have really flaked out on me in the past few months, not the least of which are certain people who are directly involved in the situation. It has really taken all of my self-control to avoid storming up the stairs (or the elevator) to see the guy who hit my car and give him a piece of my mind about what an unethical jerk he’s been this entire time . . . but I know it won’t help. Because he’s denying fault, my claims adjustor says we have to go into arbitration, which will involve a review of the evidence. Despite what you’ve seen on TV, evidence does not always exist. I’m the only person who took any pictures at the scene. The “police report” is just a minor vehicle incident form, which simply records everyone’s contact, registration and insurance info. There were no witnesses because we were on a not-very-busy thoroughfare. So basically, it comes out to my word against his, and, as it is, everybody tells me how little sense it makes that he would back into me at a red light. Yeah, I know, geniuses. I don’t know why he did it, he just did. If, by some miracle, the arbitrator or whoever determines that the other driver was wrong, his company’s insurance (yeah, he works for a car rental company and is pretty high up on their corporate ladder) will reimburse my deductible; otherwise, I’m out a few hundred bucks, and I’m guessing I’ll also have to pay increased insurance premiums. I have no idea how long this process will take and how long I will have it hanging over my head — and you know how I hate having things hanging over my head. I can’t tell you how much it helps to have my car back in good condition, though. It was drivable but really ugly up front for a good month.
I can’t honestly say I’m fully recovered until the whole car thing and a bunch of other issues have been resolved, but I can tell you that I have definitely been listening to more upbeat songs and pushing forward with life, anyway. Despite all the crap — maybe in spite of it. Philippians 3:13-14 (NLT) says, “No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved [perfection], but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.” Whether you are a person of faith or not, you must admit: This feels a heck of a lot better than the alternative.