Gaslighting, for those of you unfamiliar with glorious B&W movies of the 1940's, is a form of psychological abuse wherein someone attempts to manipulate the environment of another person in order to make that person believe they are going crazy until, ta da, they actually go crazy! Inspired by a play from the 30's and with a delicious 1944 movie version starring Ingrid Bergman, it is worth a Netflix if you are so inclined.
However it takes a very special person to Gaslight themselves. And you guessed it, dearhearts, I am just such a special gal.
I have a parking space behind my building. I have lived in my apartment for 15 years. I have had a car for all of those years. Therefore, I have pulled in and out of my parking space approximately 5495 times, give or take. And in my years here, I have never, to the best of my knowledge, ever backed into the space. There is plenty of room in my alley to make the turn, the spaces are wide and more often than not, I am the only car back there.
So you can imagine my reaction the other night when, leaving to run a quick errand, I walked back to the space to find my car mooning me.
My heart began to race. My palms got sweaty. How the F**K did my car get turned 180 degrees? Was I being Punk'd? I unlocked the doors which automatically turns on the interior lights, and slowly approached my vehicle. No one lurking in the back seat. No one under the car. I got in, took a deep breath, and went off to the grocery store, playing the day over and over in my mind, trying to think of a reasonable explanation.
Did, perhaps, the lovely young man currently painting all the windows of my building need the car moved and simply come in and gotten the keys? I leave them right by the front door, if I had been in the back I might not have heard him. But it seemed unlikely. He is desperately polite, and would probably have taken an extra five hours to do something rather than put me out.
All the keys for my car are accounted for, both main keys and the valet key, so no one else has access.
The simple fact is that I was unsettled, nearly panicky, for well over 90 minutes before I remembered that after running out earlier with my upstairs neighbor, when we got back home someone was double parked in the alley, forcing me to, everyone together now....
BACK MY CAR INTO THE SPACE.
And yes, this happened a mere 3 hours prior to my running back out and scaring the bejesus out of myself.
Because I? Am an idiot.
Which is still better than early onset Altzheimer's.
Proving once again that I should not have such unlimited access to both Law & Order reruns AND WebMD.