This is my happy place, as odd as it may seem sitting in my jeep hours on end if it were comfy enough I'd just sleep in it and I'm sure I could do so.
This is my stress free zone and I know its strange that I pull up to my house and then sit here, honestly I'm trying to muck up the courage to go in.
I can just feel the bad vibes from a mile away, I can smell the terrible memories flooding my nostrils and it tastes like a bloody nose. It's pretty gross.
I can hear all the screams and terrible things said and I can feel the pain it left behind weighing in on my heart. My soul cannot handle this negativity and though everything is fine and dandy it still doesn't mean it never happened.
And I really hate when I hear my mom laughing because I mistake it for screaming or when I hear my step dad start talking loud, I mistake it for yelling but that's what I am used to, so really I cannot help it. Hatred and miscommunication resulting in anger and violence is all I've ever truly known and that takes a real big toll on me.
I cannot handle mistaking laughs for cries and talking for screams I cannot handle the sound of the ice maker or pots and pans being put away or taken out...
I mistake it for things being thrown around and chucked at walls in the house. Every knick, every scratch every chunk of drywall taken out brings these flashbacks back and I cannot shake the image and then my mom sees the sudden change in my demeanor and posture she questions me what's wrong and all I can say is "Nothing, mom... Really. I'm oh-kay"
And that... That is why my jeep is my happy place.