Doing scary things

I recently got back from an adventurous road trip across the country. If you know me well then you know I actually hate long car rides. When I was a child we went on two week treks around America for family vacations. I would get headaches from the sun blazing in the windows with the air conditioning on high. Many hours were spent staring out the window and wanting the trip to be over. But this was about being there for a friend and helping her on her journey so I did it despite my feelings about endless car rides.

The only thing I hate more than being a passenger on one of these excursions is being the driver. I simply hate driving. Add to it that I'm in a car I'm not used to, driving in areas I've never been and my general nervousness that "something bad will happen". We were driving over 2000 miles so I certainly couldn't expect her to do all the driving but I was admittedly scared.

When the terrain was relatively flat and I could see well into the distance I was mostly OK. Turn on some disco or 80's metal and I was able to maintain some sense of calm. As we drove the areas became more hilly, mountainous and curvy. I became especially fearful when the rocks, hills or mountains on either side of us were extremely large and looming. Or if there was little guardrail and one wrong move could send you tumbling to your death. I found myself imagining what I'd think or feel if the car went soaring over the edge. Would impact be instant or excruciating? Would I be calm or hysterical? Would I believe in a God again or would I shrug my shoulders at my fate?

To maintain control of both the wheel and my mind, I had to tell myself facts, sometimes in my head and others out loud. "Hold your line" (my ex-husband loved NASCAR), "Gravity is real...just because you can't see what's over that hill doesn't mean the car will fly into outer space", "there is no difference than driving on the highway at home...it's still just a car on the road", "just because what's beside you is huge doesn't change you driving straight ahead like all the other cars". 

I reminded myself of my most terrifying car ride when I drove from San Francisco to Los Angeles. I was 19, no money, no credit cards, no cellphone, no GPS and a shitty little car whose only features were a gas gauge and a speedometer. I was scared out of my mind but I'd bought a one way ticket from Los Angeles, where some friends were living, back to Minnesota and this was the only way to get me there. I truly looked and saw the sun rising in the east, figured out where south was and started driving. When I'm especially afraid I hyper focus on one thing and on this trip I decided my fear was the car overheating. There were kind souls at gas stations that checked the radiator situation for me and assured me I was OK. After a brief turn off in Compton, where I was told "Get the fuck out of here, little girl!", I made it. 

With all my fears and phobias you'd think I'd never leave the house. Yet my desire for a big life, new experiences and phenomenal moments pushes me to keep going even when I feel panicked and terrified. I remind myself of these moments when I'm about to do something scary. Last night I wrote two blog posts that I didn't actually intend to write. What started as simply explaining my name change turned into talking about the abuse I rarely speak of. I typically write very stream of consciousness and not draft form, so about halfway through it hit me what I was revealing and I stopped cold. I knew I'd write it one day, and there is much more to say, but was I emotionally prepared to say it? 

As is my way, I decided that I wasn't prepared at all, and walked through the fires of fear anyway. I own all of my life and am doing exactly what I want.