Seiko
"Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."
- Jul 9, 2021
- 167
Having a fear of driving is the worst. Everyone expects you to drive. Grandmothers do it. High schoolers do it. Even children in rural areas can get behind the wheel and drive adequately. I can't.
I also have pretty severe arachnophobia, and I'd rather let a tarantula crawl into my mouth than be merging onto a busy freeway by myself. Anytime I get behind the wheel my heart rate spikes, I have to remind myself to breathe, and I tunnel vision whatever is in front of me. I cannot fathom the thought of driving to another state alone.
It's humiliating—and it fires up a special sort of insecurity. So many of my classmates can casually drive to campus while I need my mom to drive me to my dentist appointments. Knowing that someone significantly younger than me can take off in their car while I, 19, still need to be driven around. Knowing that I have dreams for the future but I can't even make it out of my driveway to go to Costco. Knowing that the local soccer mom can confidently drive at freeway speeds in their humongous full-sized SUV while I can't even park properly.
I'm not even scared of being in a fatal accident or totaling my car. I'm afraid of pissing someone off and being honked at or someone flashing their lights at me. I'm afraid of being included in a dashcam fails video. And my number one greatest fear is being at a complicated intersection with conflicting signs and not knowing what to do.
And I attribute most of my fear to seeing how my parents drive. My father drives like an absolute maniac and expects me to reciprocate his disregard for human life when I drive. My mother drives at a turtle's pace and is physically incapable of merging onto a freeway. I have two sides of the coin and no good role model to teach me.
Speaking of my mother having to drive me to dentist appointments, I have one coming up later today. I'm going to ask to drive; we'll see how that goes.
I also have pretty severe arachnophobia, and I'd rather let a tarantula crawl into my mouth than be merging onto a busy freeway by myself. Anytime I get behind the wheel my heart rate spikes, I have to remind myself to breathe, and I tunnel vision whatever is in front of me. I cannot fathom the thought of driving to another state alone.
It's humiliating—and it fires up a special sort of insecurity. So many of my classmates can casually drive to campus while I need my mom to drive me to my dentist appointments. Knowing that someone significantly younger than me can take off in their car while I, 19, still need to be driven around. Knowing that I have dreams for the future but I can't even make it out of my driveway to go to Costco. Knowing that the local soccer mom can confidently drive at freeway speeds in their humongous full-sized SUV while I can't even park properly.
I'm not even scared of being in a fatal accident or totaling my car. I'm afraid of pissing someone off and being honked at or someone flashing their lights at me. I'm afraid of being included in a dashcam fails video. And my number one greatest fear is being at a complicated intersection with conflicting signs and not knowing what to do.
And I attribute most of my fear to seeing how my parents drive. My father drives like an absolute maniac and expects me to reciprocate his disregard for human life when I drive. My mother drives at a turtle's pace and is physically incapable of merging onto a freeway. I have two sides of the coin and no good role model to teach me.
Speaking of my mother having to drive me to dentist appointments, I have one coming up later today. I'm going to ask to drive; we'll see how that goes.