"Accidents will happen
They only hit and run
You used to be a victim now you're not the only one
Accidents will happen
They only hit and run
I don't want to hear it cause I know what I've done..."
–Elvis Costello and the Attractions, Accidents Will Happen
That was nearly three decades ago. My ex-wife had been in that little car, her seatbelt on, and I was standing behind it trying to flag down traffic to help. We had broken down, had no power, the wheels had locked up and there was a light rain falling at dusk. We had broken down in the lane next to the fast lane on a multi-lane highway. Some cars had started to slow and pull over, and a trucker lit a flare, but it was too late. One car barreled down on us. I jumped clear. It struck the back of the Fiat and drove it over 100 yards down the highway. Amazingly my ex ended up with only minor injuries. One of the passengers in the other car had serious injuries.
That's what I kept seeing as we tried to turn around on the two-lane highway with our new camper rig. I knew in the moment my reaction was as irrational as reliving the memory from the past, but it was too late.
"What are you doing?" I yelled. "You cannot turn around here!"
"Yes, I can. There's plenty of room," my wife Amy said. I could tell she wasn't happy with my tone.
We had recently purchased our new trailer camper and this was only our second trip. Amy drove this leg of the trip and our two daughters were playing on their devices in the back seat. We had missed the turnoff to the campground and were now in a precarious place to try and turn around. Without the camper it would've been a quick flip around to head back the other way.
I kept seeing another vehicle hitting us, over and over again. I pounded violently on on the plastic molding between the front window and my passenger door.
"Stop now! We cannot turn around here! This is is a safety problem and we will get hit!"
I could feel Amy and the girls flinch at my actions and words. Again, I knew as it happened that I was overreacting. Sure, it was definitely a safety problem and we didn't have much room and there was a blind curve behind us. We ended up driving a little further to find a safer turn-around space, and shortly after that we were at the campground. We would've figured it out and we did.
I apologized to my family and we talked through it. Amy understand why I felt how I felt, just not my aggressive response, a recurring response for me at times (the blue genes strike back). We've been spending so much quality time together as a family during this pandemic, choosing eyes of love (most of the time) in the face of any adversity. We have so much to be grateful for -- a loving family, employment, being safe and healthy.
Accidents will happen, though. We both have gotten frustrated with our kids and snapped at them. We've gotten frustrated with each other and snapped back. The girls even asked if everything was okay between us when this happens, not understanding the difference between simple disagreements and the need for deeper dialogue. And now I realize that after these past six months of COVID-19, the deaths, the lockdowns, the economic devastation, the racial injustice, the protests, the cultural divide, the leadership failures and so much more around us that feels like it's all going to hell, that the road-straddle response referenced above was the beginning of my hitting a wall.
Again, I'm super grateful for everything in my life. But with us all home together all the time through work and play, the girls starting school from home again and us being bummed out for them, and then feeling like I don't have enough quality time with my wife even though we're together all the time, I hit a wall hard. Depressed. Lethargic. Hopeless, which is unusual for me of late. Everything feeling and looking like complete shit. The world going to hell in a big community handbasket.
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) latest Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR), 40 percent of adults said they struggled with mental health challenges and substance abuse. Ugh. I haven't hit a wall like this in a long time, and thankfully Amy and I always talk through it all, walk through it all, love through it all. It's so important during weight of today that keeps bearing down on so many of us, too many of others disproportionately actually, that we talk about how we feel. Get help about why we feel this way. Don't be afraid to ask for help about when we feel this way.
We had severe thunderstorms last night that we usually don't get in Santa Cruz. Amy and the girls slept through most of it, although the thunder kept waking me and the lightning kept flashing and waking me (and Jenny our dog who barked at it a few times during the night). The past six months have felt like this hit-and-run thunderstorm that never seems to pass, leaving me exhausted for tomorrow.
So, I think I'll just be thankful for today instead by talking, walking and loving through it all.
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