Pete is dead. I am heartbroken, petrified, and mental over this whole thing.
I should probably clarify though- Pete is my car.
He has been my car for many years. He was a good car. A Honda Accord, comfortable, reliable. Older, but Honda’s are angels for years and years. And Pete had been babied since and before I received him from my father.
Sunday morning as I was simply driving down the street in front of my apartment, the front tire suddenly snapped off.
According to the mechanic, it has so many things broken that it’s going to take over $1,000 to fix it. Which is so close to what the car is technically worth that I can’t justify it. Plus, the mechanic admitted it wouldn’t be super reliable after this bad of a fix.
So I have to get a new car.
I’m not really financially ready for that, so I’m stressing. I’m freaking. I’m trying not to let my mind go to dark places.
But it’s really hard.
This month has been so difficult.
I just wonder if there will be a time soon that the universe will be done shitting on me.
This is why I don’t deserve to be a normal girl who is healthy and happy.
**Note** I’m sorry I haven’t responded much to your comments on my last post. They were appreciated, but I really couldn’t respond too much without lashing out or getting even more self-loathing, so I didn’t think it was a good idea. The comments are still much appreciated, despite being a bit triggery. This month sucks.