Breathe

When I think of stress and anxiety, my mind travels to the many instances where my disorder has gotten to the best of me. I think of when my loss of breath renders me immobile and incoherent to what is around me.

I was 19 years old and I was on my way to work. My mother was driving me and we had decided to stop by a car dealership to pick up my step-dad as he was fixing up our old car. I remember dreading work as my position in the warehouse I was working at was one of the worst jobs there could be. Repetitive, uneventful, boring, and tedious. At least I was dressed nicely for one of my last days there before heading back to University. As we were turning into the driveway of the auto shop, a line of cars came rushing by. It was nearly a gridlock of cars waiting to enter the highway in which we had just exited. One truck decided to let us through, my mother turned left into the autoshop. And that's when it happened.

Now, the reason I had never gotten my full license was because of my anxiety and stress while driving. I could barely grip the steering wheel I would not be able to breathe. I was always afraid. Afraid I would crash, afraid someone would hit me, afraid I would go to fast.

The things I remember are vivid. I remember looking to my left and seeing a car speed into ours. I remember the sound of crackling glass. I remember gasping so hard my lungs felt as if they were about to pop. My eyes shut after my gasp and I gripped the passenger door. My knees hit one another and my head nearly cracked the passenger window. My mother yanked the steering wheel from side to side, trying to keep the car stable after the collision and avoiding a pole that would have caused even more damage if we ran into it. The car stopped and she grabbed my head, "you're okay, you're okay, you're okay, you're okay." My eyes were still shut.

I don't remember my step-dad pulling me out of the car. I don't remember when I started crying. To be honest, most of my memory after my head hit the glass is a blur. A man came out the car that hit us, "why were you turning, you must've saw me." He had a burn mark on his arm, he was bleeding.

The police and ambulance came, they asked me questions like "where did you hit your head? Is there a bump? How old are you? Do you think you need to go to the hospital?"

Did I need to go to the hospital? What was going on? Who are you? Am I hurt? Everything was so vivid and dream-like I had no idea what words were coming out of my mouth. As if the communication was cut-off. I wasn't bleeding. I didn't know if I was in pain. All I could feel was a coursing sense of shock and haze. I had no idea what was happening.

I didn't go to the hospital. I had a severe concussion and possibly tore the muscles by my knees. But all I could see was the bleeding man from the car and how hurt he was. I called my boyfriend to pick me up and I fell asleep after two hours.

I can't get in a car without panicking. I can't stare out the window like I used to as I have to be attentive to every turn that my driver makes. My shoulders and neck are in permanent pain.

I cannot drive without feeling stressed.