Driving? Plague? Death? Oh, same difference.

Tuesday, September, 16th 2008 at 6:36pm

I’ve mentioned this before, but it seems I can’t help but mention it again... I hate driving. Today is the second day in a row driving to pick up my Dad from work (with my mom in the passenger’s seat always giving directions and comments.) I don’t sigh in relief when the car is parked again, but rather I timidly slither back into my room not knowing what to do with myself. I feel like driving is a torture I must endure to survive, and one that I’ll never get over and that will change me irreparably... In what way it will change me, I can’t be certain.
People say driving makes them feel free, or powerful, or relaxed, or happy... I feel the opposite of all of those things; constrained, weak, tense, miserable and many other unpleasant things, mostly in a constant state of fear. My heart literally skips a beat when I hear car horns, when I see a biker, when a person opens their car door, when I drive over a twig and other such Motters.
More disturbing than that however is when my subconscious starts driving for me. Strange, but this is making me get all emotional, and I have no idea why. I just hate that moment so much, where I suddenly realize I was driving unconsciously, and I can’t help but wonder if I was going to stop for the next red light, or for the next stop sign or before I hit the car in front of me. Was I going to continue to drive straight? The moment I come back to conscious driving is the worst moment of all because I can never remember if my foot is on the break or the gas and thus I have to gently press on which ever one it’s one to figure it out causing what feels like an earthshattering jerk towards being stopped or going faster.
I’m still trembling. I feel like it’s so wretchedly unfair I should have to do something I find so terrifying. Should I be thankful because I’m not in a society that’s sending me off to war? Should I be thankful that I’m not farming a field? Well, since I’m a woman, I wouldn’t be doing those things, I’d be doing just what I want to be doing, reading to my children, tending my house, cooking and taking care of my husband. Since this is modern America, I’m doomed to driving, paperwork and either a career or college or something else even more terrifying...
I’d like to be in college. Wouldn’t mind that really. I would mind a loan sitting over my head, just waiting for me to start paying $500 dollars a month back on it for the rest of my life. I would mind that a lot. The last thing I need is debt. So far, I have no debt, and I’d like to keep it that way for the rest of my life. I think the scariest things I can imagine are debt, driving, and being a single mom working for sustenance to feed myself and my children. (Aside from ridiculous things, like giant spiders.)
Who knew I’d be so timid? I talk up a fiery storm when I feel something is important, but what am I going to back it up with? A tumult of child-sized soft little fists? I’d be better off trying to hide my pale self or running on the slowest pair of grown woman’s legs you could have. (Within reasonable size, I’m not overweight or old, just weak.)
And so the argument rages on; I’m a beautiful young woman. What’s that Motter? I’m able to understand abstract concepts. And the fat lot of good that’s ever done me. I’m a fairly good artist and writer. And nobody cares if I don’t employ myself with that, and drive to work or take a bus (amongst thieves and other such people I’d care to avoid.)
I’ve been told a number of times that most people aren’t thieves, and that I just have bad luck with people, but I don’t believe I have bad luck. I may have bad karma, but if that were the case, then I could have been born a lot worse off. A poor immune system must be only a mild case of mildly bad karma, right? Even that rings false, I know I’m given the challenges that I’m given to learn from them, not in payment for anything I’ve ever done. Spiritual stuff is a sore topic for me right now, I don’t know why I brought that up when I feel like this.
Taking buses isn’t any more safe than driving. Riding my bike isn’t quite as terrifying, though that is probably a biased judgement of it’s safely based on familiarity... I’ve forgotten whatever I was getting at. I think I was just venting the trembling from driving. I’m so glad tomorrow is Wednesday and that I’ll be spending it with Crusipher and not driving. Hopefully nothing gets in the way of that... Last week he didn’t get home until 8:00pm on Wednesday even though he said he only had to go in for a little while...
Well, I’m no longer trembling, I just feel like shit. Driving takes me so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t know how to get back into it. Nothing feels right and nothing sounds like fun. And the worst part is there is no way around it. Driving test in less than two weeks, and it’s best if I just pass it and get it over with.

Tuesday, September, 16th 2008 at 8:09pm

I just spent the last half hour helping my mom from a standing position to a seated position. She’s having a terribly fierce leg cramp in the same location as the hip replacement. I study what happenings go on with my mother and I mark the similarities in my own life and I know well exactly how able and how not able I will be depending on what I do as I age. It’s important for me to develop organized habits, an even temper, and to above all, take care of my health, which first and foremost means staying far-far away from sugar.