So last Thursday, the fomer MariaMobile died. It was a 1990 Camry that I had owned for 13 years and I loved it. Lot of history in that car. Three states, several jobs, uncounted nervous breakdowns - that car saw me through all of it and always worked. I will miss the Camry. I cleaned it out today at the garage it was towed to. The TOYOTA CAMRY thing from the back side of the car was pried off and I will hang on to it.
There is a lot more to this car though. This car was a major component in why I do not have a relationship with my parents. In 1996, I killed the first ever MariaMobile by not putting oil in it. For 2 years. Yeah, I know..... In my defense, no one ever really schooled me in the basics of car maintainence. I DID periodically put oil in it. When the oil light would come on, I would drive to WalMart, buy a bottle and put half of it in. How it lasted 2 years like that is a miracle.
So, the first MariaMobile died a violent horrible death due to overheating and cracking the engine block. I am very lucky though, the car very possibly could have exploded while I was driving it.
So, I was living on my own, working at an animal hospital 30 hours a week for less than 7 bucks an hour, could not afford a replacement and had no credit. I was also living with an undiagnosed case of major depression. My parents paid for the Camry with the understanding that I would pay them back for 4 grand. And I tried. I took a second job at Taco Bell (ugh). Then I was hospitalized for a week - depressions a bitch, y'all, and lost my job. I don't think I was actually suicidal at that point, but the facts were that I worked at an animal hospital, had access to euthaniasia drugs and the knowledge of how to start an IV. I was considered to be risky to say the least.
Job loss plus hospital bill did not help the depression and things spiraled way out of control, including my first eviction. Contact from the parents stopped, and I was too embarassed and ashamed to ask for more help. I did become close to my cousin Missy, who provided endless hours of phone therapy - most of it collect calls. Thank you Missy! Through her, I learned that there is an extreme family history of depression. My grandmother apparently even tried to commit suicide while pregnant with my mother by jumping in front of a subway, but a "good samaritan" "saved" her..... thus allowing the crazy to go on another generation.
My personal situation gradually improved, with some fluctuations here and there, but the relationship with my parents was broken. I kept in touch with my father for a while, calling him at work sometimes, but never getting calls from him. It has been 8 years since i have spoken to him, and 12 since I have talked to my mother.
So, the loss of the Camry was a big emotional whirlwind for me. The car had served me well for 13 years and I am thankful for it.
My new car is a lovely 2001 Volvo. I adore it. It has butt-warmers, sun and moon roof (those crazy Swedes!), buttons galore, and even the little windshield wipers for the headlights. I am proud that my credit and downpayment allowed to me to buy such a wonderful car. I will be paying on it for some time, but I think I can handle it. It is bittersweet though.
Also? Hello Charlie! Thank you for reminding me about my blog neglect!