dreaming

Since I’ve purchased my car I’ve dreamt about driving and not in the good driving sense. In my dreams I’m constantly swerving and trying to avoid cars. As hard as I try I can’t get these dreams out of my head and I lay there getting sick of my own self inflicted motions. After a night at my parents place, trying to make conversation with my mom I explain these dreams to her.

“You’re scared of something,” she says.

“Umm,” I say knowing full well that I’ve always been scared of driving. I’ve always blamed my fears on the deaths of friends who’ve lost their lives behind the wheels. I’m from Aylmer and it seems more common there then anywhere else. So yes, I agree with you mom, I do fear and as all my readers know, I’m petrified of the possibilities and outcomes of driving.

Sunday while going to lunch with my brother, sister, mom and dad, my newly 17 year old brother started talking about his experiences driving and his far too idealistic ways that he’ll be able to drive. Then at a key moment, making everything in my life make sense, my dad says to this young driver. “You’re probably going to smash the car up when you start to drive.”

“Ouch” you say. “Harsh!” others exclaim. Yes and yes. You can tell me I have nothing to worry about and I just need to take some time to get used to the road. True, but as I take my time getting used to the road I have to ignore all the “you’ll just smash the car up…” and the “remember don’t go too fast” lines that I got as a new driver.

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Since my realizations that my dad’s psychological abuse still controls my life, I have almost mastered driving. I know longer hate to drive and actually enjoy the 401 and the 403 on the non-busy times of the day. Its all part of growing up I guess: The driving and the running away from daddy’s words of wisdom.