I was just 16 when it happened. I remember riding a go-cart at a local amusement park. I remember the noxious smell of gasoline and the feeling of naïve excitement as I got behind the wheel, unaware this careless and carefree moment would change my life forever. The next moment was a blur as I came around a corner and collided into a barrier of tires lining the racetrack. My head hit the back of the metal go-cart and I remember people asking if I was ok. At the time, I felt numb and emotionally detached immediately following the incident so I thought I was fine, but the next few months proved otherwise. Every night, I was plagued with repetitive nightmares of being behind the wheel of an out of control vehicle and knowing I was going to die. I told myself they were just dreams and buried them deep for years.
Terrified and doubtful,I started taking driving lessons in my early 20s. The first time I drove an actual car with an instructor, my anxiety was so high, I felt like I was emotionally disconnected from my body and was watching myself drive instead. I believe this term is referred to in psychology as “disassociation”. I remember getting out of the vehicle and just wanting to cling to solid ground and cry. It was a nightmare. My family encouraged me to do another session. I remember being so scared and yet my driving instructor was so understanding and so encouraging, like he knew me. I wish I could thank him. I think his name was Edwin or Erwin from Guardian Angel Driving School.
I remained quiet about my trauma. There were people I came across in my life that laughed and scoffed at me. I remember telling someone my story one time and they took it upon themself to be the “gatekeeper” of trauma and told me that my fear was invalid because it was not scary enough. For years, without telling anyone, I really thought I could just snap out of it and suck it up. I was afraid to tell anyone outside family because I thought no one would understand.
The first time I told my story, my heart beat inside my chest and my stomach was all twisted up; but something told me to share, to tell my story. And the more I told my story, the more I realized that Satan had been behind my fear. He said, “they’ll never understand you…” He said, “you’re all alone…” But God shouted back, “I understand and I see you, my Child.”
This year, I almost listened to Satan’s voice telling me, “ you’ll never climb that mountain…” I write this as I’m nearing its peak. As tears stream down my face, I can finally see the top. The sky has never looked more clear. The mountains I climb may not be the most majestic, but they certainly have taken my breath away. I’m driving roads with Guardian Angel Driving School with a confidence I never fathomed and even going on freeways with a mental clarity that truly is supernatural and surpasses my understanding.
Driven To Hope 