Hello my P.C. friends. I needed and got a lot of very helpful support from you this past summer, after my boyfriend of many years died from cancer. I got hospitalized twice (in Jun and in Aug) due to grief causing terrible depression. That helped, and sharing with you on a couple of threads here also helped. Around mid-Sept, I had a huge breakthrough and I was out of the awful pit. Since then, right up till yesterday, I was doing well, with no serious depressive spells happening . . . just what I would call normal grief experience. Now and then I'ld get weepy for a bit, but it would pass. I was taking care of myself and my apartment and other affairs. While depressed this summer, I had lost about 15 pounds. I gained back 7. (Been cooking good meals and eating well.)

Yesterday, I fell into the pit again for the first time since before mid-Sept. Today I've been quite low. It's all due to a discovery I made yesterday. Someone I didn't know very well was storing my bf's car for me. I had vacated his apt (which was handicap-accessible) back in June and returned to my own. My landlord wouldn't let me keep my bf's car on the property where I live. A nurse's aid who had helped me care for him in the last month of his life needed a vehicle, after hers was in an accident. I lent her my bf's car. We agreed she'ld store it for a while. Now and then I'ld text her to see if that was working out. Seemed like it was. Yesterday, I went to retreive the car. She wasn't home, but we agreed she'ld leave it out of her garage and I'ld just pick it up with my spare key. I Ubered over there yesterday. The car was there and looked okay. When I got inside, I saw that the interior was completely trashed and the windshield broken. When I started it up, it was undriveable.

This car had was old, but gently used for years. It had only 57,000 miles on the odometer. It had been well-cared for and had purred like a kitten when I lent it to this gal. Now the engine was extremely rough, noisy and kept cutting out. The brakes pretty much hardly worked at all. Interior was filthy. Driver's inside door handle half busted off.

I Ubered home. Inside my house, I broke down crying. I felt so bad I had let this happen. I had taken a wild gamble in trusting this person. I knew there was a chance something bad could happen to the car. Still, I was aghast at the extent of the abuse meeted out to this old, but nice, solid little car. Obviously, she lent it around to one or more bad characters.

I had no intentions of selling the car. My plan was to give it to someone who needed a car. I had someone in mind. Actually, I have 2 friends who could have used it. So it's not like I was out any money on the vehicle. (It's beyond repair, I'm sure.) But last evening, I fell into grief and depression over the car.

The car is an old machine. It's a thing . . . and a thing I didn't need. (I have a decent car of my own.) But, last night, in between sobs, I was saying to my bf's spirit how terribly sorry I was that I let this happen to something he had spent years paying for and caring for. I feel like I disrespected him and his life by letting just anyone go off with this car. I don't know how I'm even going to forgive myself. If he were here, he would be so angry with me. His kids had told me years ago to sell the thing, when he was no longer able to drive. But we both wanted to keep it. It was the "errand car," while my bigger car was for me taking him to doctors in.

I am breaking down crying now, just from texting this post. My cheeks are all wet with tears. I knew I was taking a chance. I told myself that, if this aid and her family wrecked the car, I would just chalk it up as a failed experiment in trusting a relative stranger. But now I feel such grief that I let something precious to my bf be trashed like it has been. For months, I didn't even check up on the car.

I don't even blame the nurse's aid. I had figured out that she was part of a screwball family. I don't believe she trashed the car. I believe she must have lent it to males in her life who just road the heck out of it.

I am telling myself that it is just a lesson in life . . . and that I deserve to feel sad and remorseful for a while. But I don't want this to drag me back down into serious depression. It's not that important. But I feel myself sinking into that dark pit.

Thanks for listening. Any encouragement would be much appreciated.