30,000 Kilometres

Each day I try to focus on gratitude and small achievements; it helps me to stay positive and motivates me to believe that I can do this: with the help of my Holy Father I can survive, if not, thrive on my own. I know that I have come a long way in the last two years since taking the leap of faith to leave an unhealthy relationship of twenty years.

Two years ago I truly believed that I was not capable of surviving on my own, that I lacked all skills to make that possible. I now have a job, a beautiful place to live, I have just finished my book Silent Abuse and I am building my therapy practice. I still need to take better care of myself, but I did rejoin a weight loss group last week and have plans to make further changes this week.

However, not all achievements are as easy to measure as the pride I have in myself for reaching 30,000 kms in my car; I literally watched the meter click over from 29,999 to 30,000 and mentally patted myself on the back because this is a massive achievement for me.

I learnt to drive while living in Germany. I lived on a military base near Dusseldorf. I was married to my first husband who was away on exercise and I wanted to surprise him by learning to drive by the time he returned home. My instructor was an RAF engineer; he was really good at teaching. Part of the requirement was to learn the UK and German highway code. I managed to fulfil my goal. Once I got used to driving on my own, the world was my oyster. Living in mainland Europe allowed me to drive to so many different locations and while my husband at the time, preferred to drive, I was not fearful of taking my turn to share a drive down to Rimini, Italy or Interlaken, Switzerland.

Back in the UK, I had the same fearless attitude toward driving. I thought nothing of the motorway trip to work, or driving to new locations with nothing more than a map or driving friends from Leeds to Edinburgh to attend the Fringe Festival.

Fast forward to 2007 and I’m with my current husband (hopefully, soon to be my ex)when I’m suddenly hit by severe panic attacks. The attacks were so bad that driving began to be really problematic and while my logical mind could rationalise the reasons behind the problem and the potential triggers, I was not able to control my fight or flight response when my body decided that driving was no longer safe.

I wasn’t actually afraid of the car or the physicality of driving; if there were no other cars on the road, I would be able to drive. It was the motion of the other cars that triggered my panic attacks. Motorways and dual-carriageways were the worse triggers because my mind would uncontrollably be aware of different lanes of traffic moving in opposite directions. It was as if I had to know what all of these cars were doing and this overloaded my mind to the point of triggering severe anxiety. I was not able to rationalise, or as I call it, talk myself down from the ledge, to focus only on my immediate surroundings, as I had done for over a decade, as an experienced driver.

My heart would begin to race, I would then get this really odd sense of coldness as if sinking into an abyss, followed by a rush of nauseating heat, which caused me to perspire. At the same time, I would begin to feel light headed and the real anxiety was the fear of fainting behind the wheel: killing others and myself. The fear of fainting was the issue, but driving was the trigger to this response.

At times, I would have to pull over on the hard shoulder and I would cry. I would be so angry with myself for such irrationality because I knew that I could drive and I couldn’t understand why it suddenly became such a big problem for me, which over a period of time, I drove less and less, to the point that I didn’t drive for over 12 years.

I realise that lots of people suffer from panic attacks or anxiety issues. Sadly for me, I believe the trigger was the stress caused by my unhealthy marriage and the inability to not recognise forms of psychological abuse. Once the panic attacks were acknowledged, they were weaponised against me in an ongoing cycle of abuse. For example, he would drive for excessively long hours or at high speed, to create high levels of anxiety and then make claims that he was too tired to drive home, knowing full well that I couldn’t drive. I would then be overly apologetic, sink into deep levels of guilt, to which he would then further deepen the fear by telling me that driving while tired was dangerous and that we could have an accident and die. It was an endless cycle. However, instead of seeing it as abuse, I saw myself as failing.

The more the abuse occurred, the less I was able to drive, even to the point that I couldn’t drive down a hill to the local gym; which granted was within walking distance, but on days when I needed to go from the gym to elsewhere, I could no longer drive what was less than a mile. This created a dependency on him to drive me everywhere, which thus deepened his level of control.

So, getting myself mobile after taking the leap of faith to leave my husband and to live alone in Spain, has been a huge challenge.

However, I haven’t done it alone. The Universe, my Holy Father, ensured that I am safe even when I don’t realise it and that I had a reliable car, which was a heavenly sent gift. Living alone can be at times invigorating and at others, difficult. Whichever way, there is always a huge learning curve. So I am grateful to have a reliable car due to the isolated and remote lifestyle I lead; even the challenging mountain roads form part of my growth.

But I am not fully confident and I still have major wobbles, which when they occur leave me unable to drive on motorways or dual-carriageways. Perhaps unlike other phobias, I feel that it isn’t as easy as just getting behind the wheel and doing it anyway. I have a fear of water but if I went into the ocean or into a swimming pool, I would do it with someone at my side. But living alone and being independent means that I must drive alone, so I have to find my own coping mechanisms because triggers come out of nowhere and the most important thing I can do for myself is to keep driving, even if I have to do a 10km detour to reach my destination.

But when the wobbles happen, I can only say how truly grateful I am for the numerous friends who help me out on a regular basis; what some may see as avoidance I see as knowing my limitations and this is when these amazing friends step in.

I will drive across a mountain range to see one of my friend’s Sam, but the last leg of the journey I cannot do due to it being on a carriage-way (which admittedly, is usually very quiet). Sam will always pick me up from an arranged meeting point and drive me the rest of the way; she is the same friend who offered me a place to live and to pick me up when I was only just beginning to drive again, to make sure I was able to attend an angelic reiki course. She lives in the province of Granada,which is about 90 mins away.

My friend Carol drove my car to be serviced as it was all dual-carriageway. As always we laughed a lot and found a nice place to eat while waiting for the car. 

Last year I plucked up the courage to drive a ridiculous distance for a job interview that came to nothing. I was terrified, but reached my destination, only to have a major meltdown. After one hour of rejoicing over my achievement to drive 300km, fear set in big time, which left me crying on the floor of my hotel room. I reached out to Carol and my friend Tracy who both told me not to worry; both took the time to try and talk me off my mental ledge and if necessary they were willing to do a rescue mission. Drive with someone to come and collect me; the second person would drive my car back home.

Tracy knows, regardless of my drive to home and work along mountain roads, that I still cannot drive to her house; so she allows me to drive to where I feel comfortable and then simply collects me.

My Twin Flame, devised an entire route for me through pretty fruit fields to ease my journeys when I go to see him. He spoke to me on the phone while I did the 300km return trip; talked me off the ledge, back into a space of feeling safe and capable. 

What none of these amazing friends do, is judge or tell me that my fear is stupid or irrational. Each and everyone one of them accepts me as I am and helps me to find a way to cope with something that I have learnt to accept for now. I know the full story behind why the attacks happen, and I’m at peace with that. I can find forgiveness too for all the hurt and pain caused by others that has contributed to living with the need to manage anxiety. I don’t doubt that when I am ready, I will overcome it completely, but until then, there is also a need to recognise my own limitations, because to push and push, when I am not ready, could leave me unable to drive at all.

This is a journey of self-acceptance and nurturing the scared inner child and recognising why I get that way.

Likewise, it is literally a journey of distance travelled emotionally, mentally and physically.

For anyone experiencing fear, anxiety or panic attacks, please seek help; don’t burden it alone as I did for way too long.

Don’t let fear define you.

So yes, reaching 30,000kms in my car is a massive milestone, excuse the pun!

With love & gratitude always,

Sally Jayne

xxx