Map of Mistakes
In most situations throughout my life, I looked at the way I dealt with situations regarding the aspects of reason, logic, and tact. However, this past weekend, I began to explore another aspect of myself that I couldn't escape: fear. Fear is something that can be difficult to overcome, especially for someone who doesn't have much experience with it. I never really was afraid of anything in the past. Why should I be? I am almost an adult; ergo, I should be able to handle my own problems like one. But fear is another thing that creeps into you and forces you to adapt and grow inside yourself. Doing so generally means stretching your comfort zone in dangerous ways.
So, both of my parents moved down to Florida last week. My mom went down there permanently to find a house for the rest of us to move into; my dad went down with her, but he will be coming back tomorrow (Tuesday). Thus, I've had the entirety of the weekend plus some days to do as I please. The problem is that my parents trusted me too much. On Friday afternoon, right when I got out of school, I was involved in a very ugly wreck that could have easily killed me had I not worn my seatbelt. As far as what happened, I do not remember. I recall being all the way in the wrong lane, but I do not remember how or when I got there. I didn't even realize I was in the wrong lane until right before I was T-boned by a big carpet van. I swerved back into my lane upon realizing my mistake, but he did the same so as to not hit me. Unfortunately, the tables turned and my vehicle was impacted and flipped. I was rushed to an ambulance, but I remained conscious the entire time. One of the firemen called my mother to make her aware of the situation - recall that both parents were in Florida at this time. My grandfather came to get me and I ended up alright. However, I was informed that my dad almost had a heart attack and my mom almost cried. See, both of my parents were afraid of this sort of thing upon leaving, but subconsciously they didn't actually expect it to happen. Unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world.
Everybody makes mistakes. But I can't keep saying that, because one day I may make a mistake that might just be my last. My parents eventually calmed down after talking to me and realizing I was okay. I, however, was traumatized more so emotionally than I was physically. This experience made me very afraid of the road. I began to endure fear of driving - that every time I drove, I was growing close to death. At any moment, something could go wrong and I could suffer vain consequences. I hate to think like that, because I am the kind of person that hates fear - it deprives people of joy and genuine experiences. I now know what it is like to be in a crash, and to think that I practically cheated death scares me. Perhaps it was not my time to die? I don't know; I only know that I am alive, and I've learned not to take the things in life for granted.
Everybody drives. This is a phase, and I will become acclimated once this experience passes. However, it was something I will not forget, not just because of the experience itself; the timing, the cause, and the effect it had on my parents and the people around me all contribute to the trauma that it caused. I hate messing up, but at the same time, I realize that you have to accept failure in order to succeed. Perhaps this was supposed to be a learning experience for me, despite an inadvertently dangerous one. Looking death in the eye and saying that it is not your day can never be guaranteed, and that's where fear comes in. I do not want to die, but I know that it is inevitable. I've been through a lot in my life, and I believe that this experience will make me a stronger person. Despite all that has happened, I have come to terms with the notion that the way we respond to pain and fear builds character in ways that happiness never could.
So, both of my parents moved down to Florida last week. My mom went down there permanently to find a house for the rest of us to move into; my dad went down with her, but he will be coming back tomorrow (Tuesday). Thus, I've had the entirety of the weekend plus some days to do as I please. The problem is that my parents trusted me too much. On Friday afternoon, right when I got out of school, I was involved in a very ugly wreck that could have easily killed me had I not worn my seatbelt. As far as what happened, I do not remember. I recall being all the way in the wrong lane, but I do not remember how or when I got there. I didn't even realize I was in the wrong lane until right before I was T-boned by a big carpet van. I swerved back into my lane upon realizing my mistake, but he did the same so as to not hit me. Unfortunately, the tables turned and my vehicle was impacted and flipped. I was rushed to an ambulance, but I remained conscious the entire time. One of the firemen called my mother to make her aware of the situation - recall that both parents were in Florida at this time. My grandfather came to get me and I ended up alright. However, I was informed that my dad almost had a heart attack and my mom almost cried. See, both of my parents were afraid of this sort of thing upon leaving, but subconsciously they didn't actually expect it to happen. Unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world.
Everybody makes mistakes. But I can't keep saying that, because one day I may make a mistake that might just be my last. My parents eventually calmed down after talking to me and realizing I was okay. I, however, was traumatized more so emotionally than I was physically. This experience made me very afraid of the road. I began to endure fear of driving - that every time I drove, I was growing close to death. At any moment, something could go wrong and I could suffer vain consequences. I hate to think like that, because I am the kind of person that hates fear - it deprives people of joy and genuine experiences. I now know what it is like to be in a crash, and to think that I practically cheated death scares me. Perhaps it was not my time to die? I don't know; I only know that I am alive, and I've learned not to take the things in life for granted.
Everybody drives. This is a phase, and I will become acclimated once this experience passes. However, it was something I will not forget, not just because of the experience itself; the timing, the cause, and the effect it had on my parents and the people around me all contribute to the trauma that it caused. I hate messing up, but at the same time, I realize that you have to accept failure in order to succeed. Perhaps this was supposed to be a learning experience for me, despite an inadvertently dangerous one. Looking death in the eye and saying that it is not your day can never be guaranteed, and that's where fear comes in. I do not want to die, but I know that it is inevitable. I've been through a lot in my life, and I believe that this experience will make me a stronger person. Despite all that has happened, I have come to terms with the notion that the way we respond to pain and fear builds character in ways that happiness never could.
I love you, but your attitude is like that of a shrew. Your options? Take a pill or be my kill. Might I suggest that you wear a vest. Perish in class or be banished to the land of bluegrass, where dreams don't exist as you'll be eternally pissed.
I could not imagine going through something like that, and I hope I never do. I'm glad you made it out of there unscathed physically, if not mentally. I hope you'll be able to get over your fear of the road and be able to enjoy driving again. 