I wanted to talk about the rest of our trip, what happened with the car, and how everything is leading me back to anxiety land. Let's work our way through everything.
The last time I wrote was when we were stuck in Winnemucca. A little after I had hit "post" on that entry, my mom called. She said that her and my dad had been talking, and my dad was of the mind that we should just ditch the Volkswagen, and we'd pick up a car in Reno. Then he would pay the first 18 months of payments so we'd have time to get back on our feet.
Wow.
This was kind of big, so I discussed it with my husband until my parents arrived. I mean, it's not something you take lightly. That's a huge gift. In the end, we decided to see what was up with our car, then if need be, hit up the CarMax in Reno and find something. We didn't need OMG BRAND NEW, we just needed something that wouldn't die and would take us home after our vacation.
My parents arrived a little after 11, and we told them our decision. With that worked out, we all collapsed. Too much drama in too short a time span can wear you down.
The next morning, my mom and I popped over to a grocery store to get some breakfast stuff, and my dad and husband kept discussing things. We came back and they went to see what was wrong with the car. I hopped in the shower, thinking I'd have some time, but I guess it didn't take long to come to the conclusion that the car was a loss. It would cost a small fortune to fix, and that probably wouldn't even hold. So the gentleman fixing it was gifted with the car (I mean, there were new parts and almost brand new tires on it, so salvage that shit), and we packed up, shoved ourselves into my parent's car, and took off for Reno.
We got there near lunchtime and hit the CarMax. Let me just say, I LOVED them. This is my free endorsement of their company. We laid out what we needed, what we wanted to spend, and what we already had in mind. The lady lined up cars to look at, but none really appealed to us until my husband saw the Hyundai (which wasn't even on our list). We both fell in love with the 2013 Accent, and my dad was like, "Don't look at me, just pick something that works for you guys." So that is what we got. It took all of two hours to find a car, get approved for a loan, and finish the paperwork. We celebrated with In N Out Burger (if you've had it, then you know that that is the best way to celebrate). We finally left Reno, with my parents going home with our dog (because he'd be more comfortable at their place), and us heading for my in-law's house.
I'm just going to gloss over our stay in California, because it isn't really critical to my story, but I will probably come back later to discuss my feels about being at home.
We left California on July 17th. Our goal was to stay overnight in Kingman, AZ, hit the Grand Canyon the next day, then drive to Gallup, NM and stay overnight. Then we'd hit Tulsa, OK for another night, and then home. We should have been home Sunday night. Nah. Why? Anxiety. My anxiety, coming back to rear its ugly and unwelcome head.
Our drive out of California was fine, until we hit the CA/AZ border. I had already been feeling kind of anxious, mostly likely because of the issues we had driving to California. It started raining. I was driving. I looked down for a quick second and discovered the check engine light was on. In our newish car. That shouldn't have any issues.
You can imagine how I felt.
We stopped in Needles, CA to try and figure shit out. The car was running fine, there were no other warning lights on, so my husband decided that we'd just continue to Kingman and we'd solve things from there. The light stayed on. And on. We got to our motel and discussed options. It was decided that we would get things arranged with the front desk, just in case we had to stay another night. I looked up dealerships and auto repair shops for the next day. A friend suggested going to an auto store to see if they had the code reading machines so we could get a free read on why the light was on. I went to bed anxious as fuck.
The next morning, my husband stopped at an Auto Zone and got the code read. Knock sensor, whatever the hell that is. He decided to take it up to the Hyundai dealership, but on the way, the light turned off.
What. The. Fuck.
He stopped in anyway, and the gentleman said that it sometimes happens, and no one knows why. That's fucking reassuring. When he got back, we packed up and left, heading towards Gallup, because I was just too damned anxious at this point to even try to go to the Grand Canyon, much to my regret now, because who the hell knows when we will travel that way again.
We made it to Gallup in record time, car still running smoothly, with my anxiety running smoothly beside it. The next day was going to be a longish drive (twelve plus hours to Claremont, OK), and I started pleading with my husband to stop in Amarillo for the night. I couldn't do it. I could not face driving that far, with fears of the car breaking down on a lonely stretch of interstate. The anxiety was consuming me, and the thoughts were getting darker and darker. I finally wore him down outside of Albuquerque, and he told me to find a motel in Amarillo and see if I could reschedule our night in Claremont. Unbeknownst to him, I already had everything prepared, with the exception of the rescheduling. Anxiety fucks you up and gives you heightened senses and organizational skills, I swear.
We arrived in Amarillo in the early afternoon, with me still keyed up from the drive. I had found myself obsessively counting the miles between each town, hoping we'd make it to the next one without problems, and tensing up every time we hit a damned pothole or bump.
Our motel was right off the interstate and the night passed uneventfully, with some swimming and hanging out with people from all over the country. We gassed up and headed out early the next morning for Oklahoma, with me being a nervous twit the whole way. It got worse as we drove further into the state and the cities were small and set out a ways from the road. We stopped at a trading post, and the first thing I did was panic because it was so hot and what were we going to do if the car broke down somewhere before we got to bigger towns and oh my god, this is awful. That is not the rational thinking of a normal human.
My brain calmed down a smidge as we got into Oklahoma City and the turnpike for Claremont, because that is just a huge cluster of civilization. We finally got to our hotel a little after three, with some fantastically ominous clouds to the east. Being Oklahoma, I was expecting tornadoes and the apocalypse, but we emerged unscathed. Except for the ear infection I developed (which will be brought up later on). And the never ending anxiety.
The next day found us traveling for ten plus hours. I wasn't as panicky as before, because Missouri is pretty populated (shockingly so), but I found myself doing the counting the miles between cities thing again. It's a crazy little game to play when you're already going nuts. I breathed easier when we hit St. Louis, but once we got into the desolate wilderness of Illinois, I could feel myself tensing up again. Yes, I know it isn't desolate wilderness, but when your brain is being sucky, it sure feels like that. So I started counting the miles again. Small farm towns, Springfield, little cities, Bloomington-Normal, farmland, finally the beginning of the suburbs of Chicago. I wanted to cry when we got there. I knew I was almost home and could lay down these stupid fears.
Except I didn't.
Tomorrow: Part 2: Anxiety, Potential Agoraphobia, And An ER Visit.
We arrived in Amarillo in the early afternoon, with me still keyed up from the drive. I had found myself obsessively counting the miles between each town, hoping we'd make it to the next one without problems, and tensing up every time we hit a damned pothole or bump.
Our motel was right off the interstate and the night passed uneventfully, with some swimming and hanging out with people from all over the country. We gassed up and headed out early the next morning for Oklahoma, with me being a nervous twit the whole way. It got worse as we drove further into the state and the cities were small and set out a ways from the road. We stopped at a trading post, and the first thing I did was panic because it was so hot and what were we going to do if the car broke down somewhere before we got to bigger towns and oh my god, this is awful. That is not the rational thinking of a normal human.
My brain calmed down a smidge as we got into Oklahoma City and the turnpike for Claremont, because that is just a huge cluster of civilization. We finally got to our hotel a little after three, with some fantastically ominous clouds to the east. Being Oklahoma, I was expecting tornadoes and the apocalypse, but we emerged unscathed. Except for the ear infection I developed (which will be brought up later on). And the never ending anxiety.
The next day found us traveling for ten plus hours. I wasn't as panicky as before, because Missouri is pretty populated (shockingly so), but I found myself doing the counting the miles between cities thing again. It's a crazy little game to play when you're already going nuts. I breathed easier when we hit St. Louis, but once we got into the desolate wilderness of Illinois, I could feel myself tensing up again. Yes, I know it isn't desolate wilderness, but when your brain is being sucky, it sure feels like that. So I started counting the miles again. Small farm towns, Springfield, little cities, Bloomington-Normal, farmland, finally the beginning of the suburbs of Chicago. I wanted to cry when we got there. I knew I was almost home and could lay down these stupid fears.
Except I didn't.
Tomorrow: Part 2: Anxiety, Potential Agoraphobia, And An ER Visit.
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