Untitled...Again.

After a year and 4 months (minus the roughly 4 months last winter when we lived in the UK with James)...we can safety say, that no matter how thankful we are for The Mother and The Stepdad for letting us live in their house until we could get jobs and buy a house (and we are)...(we're moving out in 19 days) it's most definitely damaged many of us.

There's no way to explain...age doesn't change some people, things from the past, behaviours that trigger...for those who are familiar with any of this, you know what we mean. Cupboard doors have been replaced, but the same irrational overreaction to everything not being exactly how she wants it remains. Selfish and borderline, lies between her teeth.

Will we ever not crumble inside, fearful, by the sound of her raised voice...and her bizarre behaviour?

Some of us have traits...that we recognize as hers. We wither in the face of it.

Dying inside. Fragmented.

(if you're back to reading our blog again, Mother, sorry...but...aw, fuck it, just, we have to write...we know you don't like it here in these words, exposing you)

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Stories from the past: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/stories-of-us.html...and how to hate your mother, hate people, hate life, and move on to doing things other people think are fucked up...(really, though, it's scattered like poison breadcrumbs through this entire blog).

Triggered: A Short Story of Anxiety

We bought a new-used Toyota 4Runner a couple of weeks ago. It was the make and model of the vehicle we were in during our car accident in '04 (just a few years newer, it's a '96). Despite the vehicle not having air-bags at the time of the accident, we survived the 75 mph semi-truck collision that night. Crumbled and broken, both the car, us and our driver, it was almost a miracle.

So naturally, having to travel almost 40 miles to and from our new house at the end of the month; particularly if we find a job, and when we start University in the fall; and for the next few years, on the same interstate where the accident took place, we thought the safest thing we could do, mentally, is have a vehicle we trust.

That was all good, until today, driving to the gym, when we gently applied our foot to the brake to turn the corner into the parking lot, at a low speed, and the ABS (Anti-lock braking system) kicked in, and the car wouldn't stop. Or maybe it didn't kick in. We're not even sure how ABS works, exactly. According to James there is an error in the programming of the third generation Toyota ABS. So, that's nice.

If you've ever experienced a braking system on ice, when it's not working properly (or maybe it is, but braking shouldn't feel like that) it sort of jerks, feels like it's shaking across the pavement. It's not stopping.

And it triggers us into a panic, even though we weren't going very fast. We had forgotten that particular feeling of the car accident. Suddenly we're staring at a giant wall of metal, and closing our eyes, holding back a scream. So. Fun.

It's almost like passing semi-trucks on the interstate, or any time we're not driving. Being a passenger makes us nervous, and so does having a passenger if we're driving.. It's not that we don't trust our driver. We don't trust anybody around us in a vehicle. And the bigger the vehicle, the most stressed and anxious we feel. If we're driving passing a truck, our knuckles are white, we're intensely focused, and our head is pounding to the beat of our heart. It's actually a very unsafe way to react. We know that. yet, we have a hard time controlling it.

In any case. Fun times.

In house hunting news: Tonight we sign our half of the paperwork on the Purchase Agreement. It's the home-stretch.