“Fuuuuuuuuuck!!!” I yell at the top of my lungs, waking up the entire neighborhood and kicking over a metal post in my backyard. I cannot function. I have never dealt with such raw emotional anger, such pure hatred. Two weeks back, I was out on Clearwater Beach celebrating a friend’s birthday. The club is packed with beautiful women, so packed that the crowded dance floor has a pulse, swaying back and forth, jumping up and down. I leave Shepherd’s elated; happy to catch up with old friends and downright thrilled to be out mingling with all the beautiful people. I get back to my car and it is not there. I walk frantically up and down the street three times checking every side street, every parking lot. “It was parked legally, this is complete bullshit!” I say to myself. “Do you see a towing sign?” I ask a group of onlookers, looking at this crazy man zooming up and down the street. I call several towing companies to no avail. “Sir, I am going need you to calm down. We have not towed your car, if it is impounded, the police will know.” My friend’s cousin, whom I had spent close to the whole night dancing with comes and picks me up. I am silent and do not know what to do. I continue to call around to towing companies, who all say they do not have the car and that I need to file a police report. The cops show up and are really hesitant to believe my story: “How much have you had to drink, sir?” “Are you sure you parked it here? I don’t see any glass or anything” “Did you give the keys to anyone?” I’m sure these questions all have to deal with pure statistics, as I am sure cars are almost never stolen in Clearwater Beach, with no glass on the ground, especially in front of a police station(seriously like right in front!!). I am angry at the questions, but respect the fact that they are just doing there jobs and these questions probably have to deal with years upon years of police experience, of seeing drunk spring breakers reporting there cars “stolen”, only to remember that they parked there vehicle on some other part of the beach. God, how I wished my car was on some other part of the beach or even towed. It unfortunately was not, this was where my car was parked and there slowly becomes no doubt in my mind that it was stolen. The cop tells me they will get back to me and files the report in the system. He suggests I look around the beach area. We drive around until 5 am. It is way too late for vengeance way too late for worry. I get back to my house and for the first time in a while fall right asleep. I am helpless. The next two weeks become quite the ordeal, I had moved back home a few months back to save some money and get more focused in wrapping up college. I wake up and my mom tells me to get up and my dad drives me to work. I love them and all that they do, but I feel like complete garbage. I am 23 and not only is my car gone, but perhaps my pride. That stupid little car, which took me all of a few years to afford, is vital to my life. It was my way to school, my way to work, and my social life. Yes, I am 23 living at home being driven to work, like a god damn child. This could not have come at a worst time for me, my self esteem had been shot down a few notches with the inability to find a steady girlfriend, moving back at home after three years on my own and no longer enjoying time spent with my core group of friends anymore. I would hate to bore you like I always do with the banes of my existence, I’ll spare you every tough time I go through as one thing I learned from this event is that we all have our own problems and the mark of a strong character is one that deals with initiatives, doesn’t harp on every rash, every misfortune. In fact, from now on, I no longer will use (at least I’m going to try) this blog as a dumping ground, but instead a place to update people I care about on my life, my journey. Back to the point at hand, I am a psychologist’s paint canvas and go through (one of my favorite pieces of psychology) the Kubler-Ross model, venturing through the first four of the five stages of dealing with an issue:
Denial
Being the skeptic I am, the Denial did not last long. “It will show up at an impound lot” I say to myself. “Its busy for these towing companies during spring break, the tow truck driver must have just forgotten to report it.” All wrong assumptions. But hey, I am in Denial.
Anger
I begin to get very angry. I send a vicious e-mail to all my slacker group members, who are not doing there job and perennially ignoring my e-mails on the upcoming due project:
Well its 8pm on Sunday and seeing that nobody has responded Tim and I are taking the liberty of doing everyone’s work for them tonight. No need to meet tomorrow or for that matter, act like adults, just continue to ignore our e-mails and think of what lame excuse to use tomorrow. “My e-mail was acting funny” or “My grandmother was violently sick” are common yet acceptable, if it helps in your efforts…
Again, no need to worry, unlike all of you busy college students, Tim and I have really really easy schedules and will gladly take on this responsibility.
Thanks for everything,
The e-mail sent by a very angry man, was regrettable but nevertheless all team members responded immediately, so if I think of it, it served its purpose. Anyways, back to the unrelenting anger and hatred. Each night I come home from work wanting to rip someone’s head off. I “What is fucking wrong with this world? Why me? Does the man upstairs fucking hate me or something? I put my fist into several walls. Each night I have violent dreams of finding the thief, pulling him or her, (I wasn’t discriminating…) out of the car and savagely beating this person to a pulp. I dream ripping this person out of the car and knocking out all of their teeth. Fuck Florida, america’s land of outlaws, a modern day Australia, this would never happen anywhere else. This person is a disgrace to humanity, taking a shitty old car from a hard working college student. Fuck them. Fuck humanity. “What is wrong with this world? Everyone just seems to be out to fuck over everyone. People are vicious and will do whatever it takes, they rape, they steal, and they kill each other. This anger eventually subsides, but I must admit there is still a lingering distrust for humanity and people in general.
Bargaining
I am not a religious person. However, I do believe in a higher power and that there are some things in our lives that we simply cannot control, whether that be some sort of divine intervention I am not sure, but I am sure that there are powers greater than all of us in a spiritual sense. I begin to bargain with myself and perhaps god; “I worked so hard for that car man, just let me have this car until I graduate. I will do anything just to have my car back.”
Depression
I have a real tough time dealing with the loss of the car, loss of my freedom. I have been working non-stop for four years, both working hard on this internship and putting myself through college, studying and trying to balance all of the pressures that come along with it. But it wasn’t good enough; all I have worked for is pointless. Why bother even trying to better yourself, when it gets taken from you like this? I can’t seem to make women stay around me for longer than a night or two, and this was only going make it worse. How will I get to work? How can I continue to take classes in Tampa? I break down like I’ve never done before. This is not my life. This is not where I wanted to be at my age. How am I supposed to move out like I planned next month? My sister comes over one night and uplifts me with her compassion, telling me that I will get through this, that hopefully someday I will look back on all of this and laugh. If you ever want to know if someone loves you, look no further than how they feel when something awful happens to you, when you hurt, they hurt, when you feel hopeless they are there to comfort you, your problem becomes “our” problem. I love my sisters with all my heart; they are a source of inspiration for me like no other. Lauren’s sheer love for me and my family’s unconditional understanding through this whole ordeal brought me into the most important fifth and final stage.
Acceptance
As week two rolled around, I started to accept the fact that I lost my car. “You lost some money” my dad put it best. I lost money, really what it was. Money makes the world go round, but it onto itself it is so insignificant. This was not about me; this car thief didn’t steal this car as a personal attack against me. He stole my car (the most stolen car in America Honda Accord) because it just so happened to be there at that time. This was no doubt an awful thing, but it could have been worse, I could have been in the car when it happened. I could have cancer. I could be getting shot at in some foreign country. I could be paralyzed. I begin to realize that it’s all going to be “ok”. Any obstacle in this world can be fought head on with an open mind, a willingness to change course. The car was stolen, I cannot change it so I might as well make the best of the situation. I start looking again at new cars, all which are expensive yet manageable if only I worked more hours or tightened my belt a little. I can’t believe that a motor vehicle company (rhymes with Beneral Gotors) has the nerve to charge premium prices while there company tiptoes on the verge of bankruptcy. I do find some cars that are real nice though and perhaps it is time for me to have something nice, even if it means having to work a little harder for it. If only the majority of Americans (and our fearless government) who seem to feel they are entitled to everything, who live completely outside there means and run up debt like there’s no tomorrow would take on that age-old notion of “hard work pays off” I think our fledgling economy would be in much better shape. The fall of capitalism is upon us and because of not just runaway government spending, but people who just eat and eat up things they don’t need and more importantly can’t afford.
After coming to terms with the loss, the next day (no kidding! like seriously the next day) the very next day I get a call from a Hillsborough Detective who has found my car in Tampa, intact and being driven around, they even tell me they have the thief with them. My dad takes me and we race off to meet up with the investigators, who we find sitting next to the car, the thief a woman (I know. women steal things too?!?!) in handcuffs. “Keep it cool ” my dad says, surely remembering the gory things I said I would do the person if I found them. But I am past the anger, am so relieved to see it back and in one piece that my anger is taken over by childlike giddiness. “Oh my god, this is it!!!” I say pointed to the rust spot on the driver side door. “I love you rust spot.” I say to myself, a modern day George Bailey kissing the loose post of a banister. Something great has happened; my faith in humanity is restored. The iPod and its enormous 15,000 song library are as I expected stolen, which sucks but again nothing I can change. I begin to look around the car and realize that some work has been done to it! My a/c which wasn’t working very well has been fixed, my driver side door’s cloth lining has been patched up and according to the sticker left on the car, even a minor oil change and tune-up has been done!
The cop tells me that the girl bought the car from someone else a week or so ago, knew it was stolen and will not confess as to who sold the car to her and as a result, will take the fall for the felony. The cops are proud of themselves and rightfully so, they have done some fine detective work and deserve all the credit in the world for their efforts. The investigators tell me that the VIN the girl used to register the car was from another stolen car and that when she went to the DMV to get MY car registered, it showed up in the system as stolen and alerted the Tampa authorities. Following this lead, the cops go to where the vehicle was registered and sit outside of her apartment wait and pull her over. I know there are many people out there whose image of a cop is some pompous power tripping douche with a mustache who only went in to the profession because he was picked on as a child and masks this deep an unfilled need to feel dominant in his profession, but for every one of those cops there’s about ten guys who are out there uncovering dirt and dealing with the low-life scum of the world every single day. It was a fine piece of detective work. I get to work around lunchtime, high fiving people around the office, appreciating the fine people I work with. I am elated and so eager to be around people, tell the enchanting “caper” I was just in. Everyone around the office looks at me in shock, they have never seen me so happy, so incredibly wired and giddy. I am usually diligently working in my cube blocking out everyone else, a symphony in my headphones and working on some complex coding and database composition are probably the common thought of me at work.
Looking at the bigger picture here, I learned so much from this ordeal. Yes, the world is for the most part a brutal place, people will rape, kill, and steal just to get ahead in this rat race we call life. However, by succumbing to these people we become just like them, too often mistaking the awfulness of the world as being our own. The more I thought about it, I realize how blessed I am. Sure there are things I don’t like about my life, but only I have the power to change them. I am doing the best I can. Regardless of what anyone might think, I am doing the best I can right here, right now. I am three classes away from a serious promotion and with that shift in lifestyle, surely a completely new set of worries. As “the secret” (kind of cheesy feel good hogwash, but something to take with a grain of salt for sure) says “The current life we live now is just the current life, not the be-all or end-all of everything. My car getting stolen very well may be a blessing in disguise! By the way, thanks for the new air conditioner you son of a bitch!
“Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom.” – George Patton
Read this tonight for the first time. Keep writing.
Love.
By: Lauren abernathy on November 30, 2009
at 6:27 am