Long overdue

I was in a car accident this morning. Just driving back from yoga, thinking about going to one of my favorite brunch places for coffee and eggs, when all of a sudden there was a green Subaru Forester where my open road should be. I remember the moments right before our cars collided: the second you realize the inevitable, that there's nothing you can do to avoid this accident, the tiniest edge of regret that you didn't see this coming. My life didn't flash before my eyes, in fact I had more of an "oh crap" reaction than an "I'm gonna die" one. And nobody was seriously injured, not me, not the driver of the other car or his passenger girlfriend or even the little puppy she'd held on her lap as our two cars took a bite out of each other's front ends. So that's a good thing, everyone is okay.

For my part I'm dealing with some bumps and bruises, a swollen knee from where it hit the dash, a wide painful section of my chest where the seatbelt held me back from flying through the windshield. Physically, that's it. Mentally is a whole other thing. I'm of course dealing with the shock and trauma that comes from being in an accident, but I'm finding that other things are being dredged up as well. For instance, right now I find myself nursing a little ball of anger emblazoned with the name of the driver in the other car. He certainly didn't mean to hit me and is probably just as worked up about the whole situation right now as I am. He can't undo it. There's really nothing he can possibly do to make it right, and still I'm angry at him. Maybe that's why. Maybe I'm angry at him because it can't be undone, can't be made right. Maybe I'm angry because it's just not fair. Because it's not, but then what in life is? Which is another interesting wrinkle in this story because I find that in addition to my anger for this young gentleman, anger is bubbling up over other things, things that happened long ago, that were also unfair and also can't be helped. Things that can never be made better. I find myself overwhelmingly pissed at every remotely crappy thing that has ever happened in my life. Every cutting remark, every moment I have felt ignored, every pointed look is kindling for this internal fire. The teacher who pulled me aside as a little girl and told me I should go home and lose weight, the boy who told me he didn't want to go with me to the homecoming dance because he was waiting for someone better to ask him, every struggle I ever had with my parents or my brother or my ex or my former boss or anyone is another crumpled up newspaper on the roaring blaze.

That Forester seems to have knocked loose whatever stopper was containing this anger and it seems to me that it's a far healthier thing to let it burn for a while than to cork it back up. I'll check back in when things have calmed down, but right now I'm just mad as hell.