Conquering Fears

I'm sure you read in some of my earlier posts, that I have a phobia hierarchy scale. The scale helps me gauge the fear factor that certain things elicit as well as communicate why those things scare me in a particular order.

People laugh at my phobia hierarchy scale, but they understand it and respect it. They may make fun of me for my order of things, but there is a reason for this particular order (spiders>rodents>balloons>clowns>dolls>marine animals), as some things are more tolerable than others. It may not be a good reason, but it's still a reason. I may not be willing to hold a spider or a rodent, but I might be willing to hold a balloon or a doll.

There was another fear that I had that was too embarrassing to put on my hierarchy of phobias. I don't admit it to many people, mostly because I was afraid they wouldn't understand my reluctancy to participate in this particular activity. Most people jump at the chance to do this particular thing that I found myself in the minority as I gradually removed myself from ever wanting to do it.  I kept this fear to myself, because admitting it always brought such humilation.

The fear was driving.

I've never had a desire to do it. I did go through Drivers' Ed in high school (which, was a bit of a joke as the instructor had a glass eye and didn't really explain things all that thoroughly). When it came time to get my permit, I got it, but the only person I had to practice with was my mom. And while she is a good driver, she was a less than encouraging teacher. I think I made her nervous, and that one driving excursion with her resulted in her yelling at me and me crying.

I didn't try driving again until a couple of years later when I got so sick and tired of the unreliabilty of public transportation. The instructor was really patient. She used her own car and had us drive around the city. She helped me refine certain kinks of my driving technique as well as help me prepare for my driving test.


Life happens, and so a couple of more years passed (by this time I was 23, engaged and determined to get my license before I got married). Because I was no longer willing to be on the road again with my mom, I asked a friend to help me brush up on my driving skills. A month later, I got my license, but I still wasn't confident enough to actually drive.

Once Michael and I got married, we got by on one car. I took the bus to work and Michael would pick me up if I worked evenings. I couldn't drive his car anyway as it was a stick. When we moved to England we didn't have a car and had to rely on public transport, but that didn't bother me in the slightest.

When we moved back to CA in the summer of 2005, I knew that it was only a matter of time before I'd have to suck it up and start driving, but the fear was so great I'd start crying and shaking whenever Michael broached the subject.

Again, we got by on one car. I got a job less than a mile from our apartment, so I could walk to work.  The pressure to drive was still there, but not as pressing.

In December 2009 my mom was scheduled to have minor surgery and at the last minute our ride to the hospital fell through. After a five minutes of giving into a panic attack and tears, I called her and told her I would drive us. Surprisingly, this driving excursion with my mom was much smoother than when I had driven with her at 17 years old. She commented on how well I drove, helped me change lanes, and encouraged me the entire drive to the hospital. But I still lacked the confidence to comfortably get behind the wheel.

A month ago, Michael voiced to me that he wanted to get a new car, and now that the Focus was paid off, it was a good time.

I asked him when he had wanted to start looking at new cars, and he said before we leave for ID, so fairly soon. I guess I didn't react the way he thought I should, so he said in the most tender tone of voice possible:

Michael: Babe, you realize that when we go looking for a new car and if we purchase one, you will have to drive the Focus home.

Me: *thinking* *eyes eventually start to go wide* Oh crap! How did I miss that!

Michael: Take your time. Think about it. It doesn't have to be today, but I'd like to start looking in the next week.

Me: *eyes still wide as I jet to fridge for a cupcake, and stuff it in my mouth*

I don't know why this never occurred to me. How did I not see that I'd have to drive the Focus home? Who did I think would be the third person to go with us to look for a car?

*facepalm*

So I did the only thing left to do, I "kissed the frog" as my friend would say, marched into our bedroom where Michael was watching tv, and said, "Lets just do this and get it over with."

I found myself conflicted and almost wishing we wouldn't find a car that day (silly, yes; rational, no). I don't think I really paid attention to anything the car guy said. I was too focused on how I was going to back out of the parking spot we were in, since I hadn't driven in two and half years and completely forgot how to back out.

*headdesk*
Three hours later we had a new car and I was going to have to drive our old car home. I texted my closest friends to pray for me. I even asked for prayers from my FB friends, though not truly detailing what I need prayer for. I was nervous about driving, but not petrified. Michael kept reminding me that I know how to drive, I'm just a bit out of practice. I followed Michael as we took streets coming home.

So for the last two weeks I've been driving around my city, making a point of at least driving everyday even if its only a short distance. Parking lots still make me nervous, as I can park, but I'm not great at it, so I park really far away from other cars until I get better.

I still don't really like driving, but at least now I'm not afraid to do it anymore.