Two years ago in August, we were going away for the day and my mother-in-law was babysitting. Between packing, handling the baby and explaining things to mother-in-law, Mistress lost her temper. This was generally a bad time for us, we were sleep-depraved and tired, and our life was mostly a struggle. Things weren't right between us, even though it wasn't always bad either.
Mistress left the apartment in a huff, I remember, walking at great speed away from us, and I trailed after her, calling out to her without an answer, and with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I got in to the car at the parking lot in anxious silence, and when she drove away she suddenly started to swerve the car from one side of the road to the other, hands clasped white-knuckled to the steering wheel.
I panicked, completely. I started to shout at her, uncontrollably, to let me out, "LET ME OUT!!!", screaming it to her face, and she drove the car to the curb and I unclasped myself and scrambled from the car, terrified.
I started walking across the lawn, going nowhere in particular, simply away from her, away from the car, and she drove slowly after me, suddenly calm again, calling for me to get back in. But I refused.
This is the memory I have. This is what replays in my head every time she walks to fast, every time she stumbles on words in anger, or hit a wall with her fist, or even get that frustrated look in her eyes, Every time that happens, I'm back to that lawn, walking into nowhere, having nowhere to go but not wanting to, not daring to, go back.
We haven't talked about this much since it happened. It has simply lived its own life in my head, shaping my perceptions and expectations, influencing the basic assumptions I have about my life, of our life. That day, one of my basic assumptions became "I can't trust her not to kill me or herself."
Because to me, doing something like that while driving a car was something You Don't Do. My drivers license wasn't a year old at that time, and I had the greates respect for cars and driving. Losing your temper while driving was in itself unthinkable, and to willfully use the car to express anger - to me, that was far beyond rational. I saw no difference between what she did, and driving the car straight in to a tree at full speed on the highway. I was literary afraid of my life - not at that particular moment, perhaps, but to ever again get into a car she's driving. Because she had shown me, in my eyes, that she was utterly unreliable and unpredictable.
We talked about it, and for the first time I got her version. That yes, she does that sometimes, when she's frustrated. She also sometimes revs the car, giving it gas with the clutch disconnected. That doesn't mean she would ever ever do anything dangerous. I misinterpreted her, I thought she was way more out of control than she was. She knew there weren't any other cars around - the parking lot was empty. She drove in something like 10 km/h, and really, nothing could have happened. She was angry and frustrated and yes, taking that out while driving even in a safe way is a bad habit - but it's not akin to reckless driving, and certainly not to driving in to any trees from any highways.
And suddenly, while she talked, a heavy weight was lifted from my mind. It was a terrifying experience for me, and it shouldn't have happened - but it does not mean that she can't be trusted. It does not mean that she might as well kill us all with the car or in any other way. She didn't really do anything dangerous, even though it was scary and not very appropriate.
Eventually, I had gotten in the car again, and she drove away, and we had a rather nice day actually, as I recall. But the seed of mistrust that was planted that day continued to grow, and hasn't been weeded out until today. It might have grown some roots, and I can't guarantee there's not other seedlings sprouting their heads somewhere, but at least we've found it, finally.
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