I have a confession to make. It wasn't something I realised that I was doing until recently, but I have now come to the point where I am aware and have to say:
I was living in fear, and now it's time for that to stop.
I'm not talking about the fear I experienced whilst living in an abusive situation. I have only ever been in an abusive relationship once, and that happened a number of years ago now. I am not afraid of any person currently in my life. Nor am I afraid of the future and what it might hold, or of what other people think of me and the way that I live my life. I am not afraid of the memories I hold of the past, although for a long while that was a big obstacle in my life which I needed to work out how to overcome.
I am talking about being afraid of my own mental health, and how it might affect my ability to cope with my life.
A number of years ago, during the abusive relationship but before I was aware of how abusive it was, I was lucky enough to pass my driving test. However, due to various circumstances including moving cities less than a week later, and then increasing financial abuse by my ex and other reasons I can't remember, I never drove again. Then once I was recovering from the abuse, I had to battle for a number of years with post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety and panic attacks. Driving never seemed like a sensible consideration and I was also able to use the excuse that I didn't have the money anyway. Plus I found out that PTSD is a condition that you are supposed to declare to the DVLA (Driver Licensing Agency in the UK), and so I was able to use that as another reason not to try as I hadn't actually told them about it.
But more recently life has caught up with me a bit. Although my family lives in a city with good transport links and we live close to bus routes, it has become increasingly difficult for us to get around with a toddler who would frankly rather be doing something more interesting than catching yet another bus. And going anywhere outside our city is extremely difficult and expensive. Having been in our current flat for the last year and a half, in an area where I have only recently been getting to know people locally (mainly through our church, which is about 20 mins away by bus), it has been a very lonely experience which has made me feel rather isolated. It got me thinking: What if I tried driving again? The main reason I hadn't wanted to try (apart from the cost of buying and running a car) was that I was afraid of freaking out behind the wheel. What I remembered of my driving lessons involved me feeling rather stressed about dealing with other road users and being intimidated by large and fast roads. So earlier this year I contacted the DVLA about my PTSD and they confirmed me fit to drive, so I could no longer use that as an excuse. I also recently finished a course of counselling and feel more confident about not having any more issues with panic or stress.
So in the end I decided that to have a lesson or two with a driving instructor in a dual-controlled car would be worth it just to see if I could cope, and that if it all went horribly wrong, I had at least found that out.
My first lesson was last Friday. It was with some trepidation that I got into the car with the instructor, who took me to a quiet road nearby. I remembered how to adjust the seat to the most comfortable driving position, and where my mirrors should be. And we set off. I had thought we would start off with a small estate or cul-de-sac type area like where my instructor in my home town had started teaching me as a beginner. But this instructor took me on a road which soon became a bit faster, and eventually involved dual carriageways, roundabouts, and an industrial estate with lots of lorries. I actually had to watch my speed a number of times as I had been putting my foot down a bit too much. Apart from stopping at junctions a little sooner than I needed, and doing emergency stops instead of stopping gently, I was amazed at how well I could drive. Not only did I not freak out at the wheel, I enjoyed myself and felt in control of the car pretty much all of the time.
I arrived home energised and excited, far from the exhausted and stressed feeling I was expecting to be feeling. I had overcome a massive hurdle that was, to a great extent, of my own making. I realised that I have spent so many years being afraid of what might happen with my own mental health that I had forgotten to try actually living.
I will be taking more lessons to get myself back into practice before I actually get a car of my own, but this has been such a great encouragement and a big lesson to me about how big my problems can seem until I get up close and see them for what they really are. My mental health has had to get into the back seat so that I can be in the driving seat once more and take control of my life.
And where does my faith fit into all of this? Well, I am aware that there are some schools of thought around mental health issues which can make sufferers feel guilty for having a mental health problem when they are told that they are not trusting God enough and are allowing themselves to be dominated by their problems. This is not Christian thinking, it is a false interpretation of a situation which is clearly not understood by those who are proclaiming those views and who are fortunate enough not to have to deal with the issues themselves. As I see it, God is with me in whatever situation I am in. The things that I have been battling with are due to chemical imbalances or faulty wiring in the brain and have nothing to do with my mind and how I think or feel about anything.
So, to use a driving analogy once more, I am in the driving seat of my life, but God is the sat-nav. He guides me along the best routes for me and tells me what to do and where to go, but I have to choose to follow his directions and listen to him. There's a great verse in Proverbs that says 'In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord directs his steps.'
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