Let it go (a Smashy-smashy update)

The registered owner of the vehicle that hit me denies it was in an accident.  *sigh*  So, the owner let an unlicensed (suspended) driver take the car, the driver hits another car, there is no police report, so the owner simply denies it happened and is off the hook.  The driver can simply deny as well, I suppose, and it’s just me dealing with all this.  I do have uninsured motorist coverage, so I’m not going bankrupt, I’m just feeling bad. 

So it’s been a week.  I’m still in some pain.  Nothing like it might’ve been in a higher speed accident or with me completely unprepared for the collision, so I’m grateful for that.  But I’m still incurring some medical expenses out of pocket.  Not thrilled with that.  We replaced the car (out of pocket), and we’ll be reimbursed this next week for the total loss of the smashed car.  Still, additional out of pocket expenses were incurred, this time for a safety check & some repairs on the ‘new’ car from our mechanic.  We don’t deal with car lots or car loans, so it was a private party purchase, so no surprise the car needed some maintenance.  It will be a while before this is all resolved.  I find the waiting to be stressful.

But, as I said, it’s been a week.  Friday thru Tuesday were thoughts of revenge and how to get justice, Wednesday and Thursday were thoughts of how to DO something to fix this (still seeking justice).  Friday was recognizing it’s time to let go of the whole experience and let God/Higher Power/Goddess/Spirit/whatevernameyouwant take this.  For some people, this would be considered fast.  For me, this is slow.  I don’t generally stay angry about things – and I usually trust that if I’ve done all I can do in a given situation, then things will be what they need to be.  I’m having trouble this time.  Mainly because I’m holding on to blame for NOT having done everything I COULD have done.  Or SHOULD have done.  It’s the SHOULDAS and COULDAS that give us brain tumors, folks.  It’s the hanging on and reliving things that can’t now be changed that give us ulcers and migraines and any number of lingering aches and pains.  I SHOULD have called the police.  I didn’t.  And so I blame myself for this being a long process that I can’t be entirely sure the outcome of.  So I’m being very unforgiving of myself.  And I’m spewing that hostility toward the driver and owner of the car that hit me, adding the anger toward myself onto the righteous and understandable anger I feel towards them.  It’s okay to be angry.  It’s not okay to stay angry a long time over things that can’t be changed.  I would be mostly over this if I felt I’d done all the things I should have/could have.  My feelings at the time were that the cops wouldn’t respond because there was no need for an ambulance or tow (previous experience supports this interpretation), but the bizarre behavior I witnessed and the uncooperativeness of the driver SHOULD have pushed me to call the cops as soon as I got back to my car.  Later in the day, I realized they would have come if I’d only told them she didn’t want to talk to me and that I could only get the barest of information out of her.  But at the time I wanted to get the hell out of that alley where I was the only one who gave a damn about the accident – three people who didn’t care, didn’t care if I was hurt, didn’t care about the condition of my vehicle … and ME.  It was so bizarre.  I’ve never experienced such a … VOID, a lack of conscience.  My focus was on staying calm long enough to get what I could get.  Once I’d dismissed the idea of calling the police, I didn’t even think about it again.  And so I am angry with myself for NOT being together enough to make the correct decision.  I am angry with myself for being incompetent. 

Ah.  That’s it.  That’s the thing that does it for me.  I try so hard to be (seem) competent, and when I make a mistake … I’ve fucked up.  Incompetent.  Damn.  I’m hard on myself.

So, anyway.  I decided last night that when I would start reliving this, going over it yet again, kicking myself in the ass … I would give it up to God.  I start to go over the events again, think about how I SHOULDA called the cops, whatever – stop it, Devra, and just remember it will work out as it is meant to work out.  Some of us have a hard time with these things.  Any situation that leaves us reliving, rethinking, reworking again and again, second guessing & hating our choices, requires effort for us to move on.  Even relatively minor car accidents.

"Dear God,  I did the best I could.  I made the best decision I knew how to make at the time.  I’ve done all I can do.  I release this to you.  I know that you will guide this experience to its ultimate destination.  And that how this unfolds is up to you, and will be for my highest good.  I release this experience to you.  Amen."

Smashy-smashy

I hate car accidents. 

Friday morning, on my way into work, I was hit by some doped-up up bitch in a Jeep (hereafter: DUB).  No, really, she was on something.  And I think, technically, you could call it a hit & run because she kept on going until she was at the spot where she was to meet some home inspectors – she just happened to be meeting them in the alley she turned into when she hit me, so she didn’t go far.  I was traveling in the far left lane of a one-way street, preparing to turn left at the end of the block, she was to my right in a center lane – she crossed my lane to turn into the alley & hit me on her way in.  Then things got weird.

I got my car out of the road (drove to the end of the block to park in a lot), and noticed NO ONE was coming to check on me.  I immediately thought "Shit! Hit and run!"  I grabbed my keys, locked the car, and ran to the alley to see where she went.  She was right there, jeep parked, standing there talking to two fellas with pickup trucks.  I walked up to her and said "Hello??  What the hell?"  She gave me a bored look.  Me: "I parked at the end of the block.  I need you to walk with me to my car so I can get your information."  DUB: "I really don’t have time for that right now.  I’m supposed to be meeting with these home inspection guys.  I have strep throat.  I have other things to do right now, so, I really don’t have time to walk down to your car."  Me: "Excuse me??  Lady, you just HIT me!  With your CAR.  I need to get your information."  DUB: "I don’t have time for this right now."  I looked at her, stunned.  DUB:  "I didn’t even know there was a lane there."   

I asked the home inspector dudes (who hadn’t said a word, offered to call the police, or so much as acknowledged they witnessed an accident) for a pen and a piece of paper, and DUB sauntered back to the jeep.  When I got there, she was sitting in the driver’s seat, tearing a small piece of paper from a larger one.  I asked for her license & she slowly started writing her name & DL number on the teeny piece of paper.  Me: "No.  Give me your license & I’ll write it down."  She handed me her license … you know, eventually. 

Here’s my first fuckup:  I wrote her name & DL number, but not her address, & I didn’t even check the expiration.  My excuse is, I was upset, I was angry, I was stunned by her complete lack of interest.  Still.  Wish I’d gotten the address.  DUB:  "I’m sick.  I have strep throat."  Me:  "I realize you’re sick, and not having a very good day.  Neither am I.  Just give me your information so we can both have a better one."

Next, I asked for her insurance.  Like pulling teeth, it was.  I asked again, she mumbled "Progressive".  Me:  "What’s the number?"  DUB:  nothing, nada, no response …  I asked again, she feigned searching for an insurance card, then stopped.  Me:  "It’s Progressive??"  DUB: slight nod in the affirmative.   OK.  Great.  I don’t have a policy number.  I don’t have shit.  At this point, I should’ve raised holy hell, insisting that the Home Inspector dudes call the police.  I did not.  That was my second fuckup.  I don’t know why, but I wanted to be charitable.  Maybe she’s in more shock than me.  Maybe she’s really really sick.  Maybe she’s got some serious shit going down in her life and this is sending her over the edge. 

My experience is that if you do not need an ambulance or a tow, the cops will not come out for a traffic accident.  So I did not call the police.  I did not ask anyone else to call the police.  On the other hand, no one offered to call the police.  On the whole, some strange people, and I should’ve screamed for the cops anyway.  I pointedly said to her:  "By the way, my name is Devra ——-."  Nuthin.  No response.  She never asked my name, she never asked for my insurance or license, she had no interest whatsoever in either the condition of my health or my car.  I finally gave up on getting any more out of her, stepped back, and wrote down the jeep’s license plate number.  This was one of the few things I did right, as it turned out. 

I drove into work, which was around the corner.  I was glad my car was driveable but I didn’t feel safe to drive home in it.  I was in my office, but I didn’t work.  I spent the entire morning on the phone making arrangements with the insurance company, the body shop, and the rental car company.  I put in my claim, drove to the body shop (3 blocks), got a ride to Enterprise Rent-A-Car, drove back to work, and opened up for the afternoon’s business.  By 1:30, all the adrenaline I’d been running on ran out.  I was so tired.  My head hurt so much.  I made it through our busy period, then went home 45 minutes early. 

But before I went home, I called the police department to enquire if I could still file a report.  Sadly, no.  I was told they can’t take a report after the fact, but the lady on the line was apparently intrigued by my story & searched out some info based on what little I had gotten that morning:  DUB was on a suspended license, and the car is registered to someone else.  So, the plot thickens.  I’m pretty damned sure she was high, not sick – and my insurance co. will take a while to get this all closed out.  And I’m REALLY kicking myself for not calling the cops when I got back to my car.  I think they’d have come out if I’d told them what I observed about her behavior.

Here’s the weird thing about my life:  I only get a new car when my old car is a total insurance loss.  That tells you the kind of strange (mis)fortunes I’ve experienced with cars over the years.  I have been hit by someone else a total of 4 times within the past 10 years, and I’ve had 2 cars stolen in the past 15 years.  Funny thing is, I always end up in an upgrade to a better car without having to actually pay for it.  I’ve paid for one car in my life.  The rest have been paid for by my insurance company (via my premiums, true).  Granted, there are downsides:  physical pain, mainly.  And the hassle of dealing with the aftermath.  Financially, my experience is relatively positive as I am fully insured & we have found terrific deals on good cars, and I’ve never had to deal with a car loan.  Physically, there have been some lasting negative effects, although – again – I feel fortunate in that I’ve never broken a bone, lost a limb, or had serious/severe/life-threatening injuries.  But a couple of experiences with whiplash & back pain do weaken those areas long term, and I have to be extra-careful with lifting, twisting, bending, and so forth.  All in all, I’d rather stay home.

So Saturday, we replaced the car.  We’re already near-positive it’ll be a total loss, and we happen to have enough money in the bank to buy something in the price range of the payout.  When the claim closes out, we’ll pay ourselves back (it’s money for a purpose, and a new car was not in the budget), but at least we won’t be in a panic situation when the time comes.  We lucked out again:  found an even nicer car for what we paid for the last one, which is, ironically, exactly what the blue book value is (hence, what the payout will be). 

Someone’s looking out for us.  I’ve never been seriously hurt when these things have happened.  We’ve never been out-of-pocket on major expenses afterward.  And somehow we manage to be slightly better off on balance financially, offsetting the stress, hassle and pain of the experience.  I’m a lucky person.  I know it.  And I don’t forget it.