You know when you’re driving and you’re pretty sure you’re going to die? Not just any death either, one of those awful deaths. Like maybe you’ll feel really dizzy and crash into a bus full of children and you’ll both roll and burst into flames. Or maybe the brakes won’t work and you’ll have to keep on driving forever. That’s actually one of my fears. I hate driving.
I hate it because at its core, I hate independence. I hate knowing the world is so huge and the population is so vast that I could drive all day, from one side of the state to the next, and find excessive amounts of traffic.
You know that feeling when you’re driving on a narrow part of the highway and you swear you aren’t judging the size of your vehicle correctly? Like you just know you’re going to hit the side if you don’t slow down, but you want to speed up because you are suddenly aware at how uneven the road is and how scary it would be if the overpass collapsed?
I hate when I’m halfway somewhere. It means I’m too far from home to turn back and I have to keep going, stuck in a place in my head that is set on torturing me. Instead of worrying about normal things like “gee, I hope I’m not late”, my head sounds like this “was my banana tampered with? What if someone laced it with acid and I ate it before I left which means the effect would be kicking in right about now and….am I seeing things? What if I’m hallucinating this whole experience?” Cue the panic attack! See, fast heart rate is another symptom of acid!
I have this wonderful, imaginative and dissociative brain that thinks of such interesting things. But sometimes it turns on me like this. It’s not until I get there on time that I am able to see why I was nervous in the first place. I give myself a break. Of all the things I have overcome, driving might not ever be one of them.
But it’s cool. One day I’m going to teach my kids to drive and I’ll have 3 people indebted to driving me everywhere. 😀
Here’s to tomorrow’s drive to schools.