This morning I got my third speeding ticket in three months. In the same spot, going roughly the same speed. I was near tears as I saw the flashing blue lights.
“This is bullshit”, I bitched.
I tried talking my way out of it. I promised I’d slow down. He’ll check, he says. He walks back to the squad car that is just a regular car with cop shit on it, because that’s how it is in Hawaii. Check what? He returns with a yellow slip of paper.
“Sign this”
“You’re giving me a ticket?”
“Yes, because you’re repeating the same infraction”
I KNOW. That’s why I’m asking you to not give me one. If there is one thing that makes my blood boil, it’s being talked to in a condescending tone. Especially by a cop.
“Hope you have a better rest of your day”, he says kindly, which makes me even madder.
"I fucking hate this island”, I whisper under my breath.
So begins the spiral. I start to think about how I wouldn’t even have to be here if it wasn’t for my awful ex. About how I’m now stuck here because I’m not going to leave my daughter. About all the ways he has wronged me and how much better off I’d be if I left sooner. Before my psyche was fundamentally changed for the worse. Before I was traumatized (further).
I text him mean things. After all, it’s his fault all of this happened. Making him feel bad makes me feel good in the moment.
“I gotta stop this”, I reason.
Tears stream down my face and spill onto my phone screen as I try to call my sponsor. I can’t use a wet phone. This pisses me off to what I think is the point of no return. I dry the screen on my sweatshirt. My sponsors soft voice answers on the other end and I sob as tell her what happened. She commiserates about how tough it must be. It is! It’s so hard!
“Imagine how hard it must be for him”, she says gently.
“You have a tool box with coping strategies for when you feel this way. You’ve put in the work to do your steps and shown up to meetings to learn how to deal with feeling like this”, she continues, “he hasn’t. Pray for him.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. She also tells me I need to be grateful for everything—even the speeding tickets—and to ask what I can learn from all of this. How can I turn this mess around into something that is good?
I DON’T KNOW.
And in that moment I didn’t want to know.
But maybe hearing all of this will help one of you get through your day.
So I think that is a good thing.
I’m just so dang proud of you, my dear friend. <3