Life | I Had a Monday Mishap

You know how many people attest to Mondays being the worst? I never really believed the hype until this past Monday. I won’t go into too many details just because it’s not the right time nor do I want any issue but I did get into a traffic accident. Everyone was fine. My car was the only car to sustain damage. It’s repairable. It’s not as bad as I keep thinking it is and it stays on my mind. I think the issue at hand is holding myself to such a stature that I was disappointed in myself. I let myself down. I let my parents down. I made my friends late to an event we had plans to get to. I caused trouble. That’s something I don’t like to do. Thank the Lord for my parents and my best friend, Kelsea. I honestly would have cried and cried if I hadn’t made plans with Kelsea and knew I had to call her to let her know I would be late. 

For me, I’m so use to handling things on my own or with my family. My two best friends from high school, moved after our high school graduation and they were the two people I could depend on to help me in my times of need. So the past five years of college if something went wrong, I called my parents and more than likely cried while on the phone with my mom. That’s just how things go so when I called Kelsea, my plan was to tell her to go ahead but she immediately stated she would come to me. I never had that in a friend. I was used to dropping everything and being the superhero. I’m entirely thankful for her and all that’s she’s been for almost two years of knowing her. Planning a cute gift basket or something because it may seem like no big deal but it is. It’s nice to have people that will be there for you and vice versa, no one sided relationships. 

Now, my parents. They laughed. Not at the fact that I bumped into someone’s car but because of my reaction. I was scared and I’ve never had a traffic incident ever. I’ve always prided myself on being a careful driver and doing the right thing. It’s just one of those things that can happen, according to my mom. My dad was my next call, my ‘what do I do?’ call. He explained calling my insurance and making my claim. It was short and to the point. I called and he waited, eventually talking to Kelsea, my rescuer. My parents have never been strict, they’ve always trusted me and they have called me every day to check up on me. It’s nice. I know they love me and they’re coddling this moment because I’m twenty-three and I think I have to be a perfectionist and commit no wrong-doing. 

Emotions. I’m probably the most sensitive person ever and it’s hard to tell. I’ve worked hard on biting the insides of my cheeks and tongue when I’ve been offended and concentrating on my shoes when I feel like I’m going to cry. I concentrate on anything that will distract the tears. So the baseball game that I continued on to was a great distracting. Hanging out with Allie and Kelsea was a blessing. Trying to get hot dogs with a mission with great concentration. Returning home and knowing my mistake, I cried. I was disappointed in myself. I was mad that I hadn’t paid as good attention, that my reaction wasn’t as fast as it should have been. I cried because I felt like a burden and interruption to people’s schedules. And I prayed because when I cry, I confide and ask for forgiveness. 

In some ways, I feel like the most important people know when to reach out. Whenever there’s tears in my eyes, the same person always comes to my rescue. There’s always a smile at the end of the day and appreciation. Tiny gestures to make me feel better. Now, I’m appreciative. I’m learning. This is an experience, a terrible one but nonetheless, I’m learning and realizing the importance of patience and going with my first instinct. I keep telling myself I should have just taken 315 and listened to my first instinct but I can’t change that. I just have to believe in myself more. Appreciate the great people I know more. I’m alive. Everyone’s okay. Take a deep breathe and just move on.

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