I wrote this last week to vent my frustration:
Then decided it was too petty to blog.
I’ve changed my mind again believing others will be able to identify with being angry at oneself for not being able to do things.
When I was in my teens and early twenties I loved flying
And then I had a fear of flying:
People would say:
Get over it
Face your fears
Despite what I thought was a phobia I flew to Townsville fairly regularly to visit my grandchildren and I flew to the UK via USA because second husband wanted to go home for Xmas.
(I Paid for this holiday — the fact that I mention this shows I hold resentments)
It wasn’t until a few years ago that a psychologist pointed out that my fear of flying was a trauma not a phobia.
In the seventies I worked at an aerodrome:
One of the pilots took me up in a Victor (a two seater –
At the time I remember thinking it a cross between a (Victor) lawn mower and a tea kettle)
cut the motors and spun the plane downwards without telling me:
I told him to land the plane and never flew with him again.
I never “connected the dots” until my psychologist asked me to talk about when liked flying.
More recently I have panic attacks when I try to drive my car.
I have had my driver’s licence since 1966
I learned to drive in an FJ holden
A friend said recently “It is just fear”
But there must be a cause to this fear.
There are no recent traumas re driving.
My only major car accident was in 1978 when I was hit by a drunk driver speeding:
I didn’t remember this accident and still don’t.
Immediately after this accident I didn’t know my name or what I did.
But I remembered that my children were in the car.
Some one from the hospital must have told the insurance company that I didn’t remember because they contacted me and told me the accident was my fault:
Gave me $300 and had me sign paper work:
I found out later; when the passenger in the other car tried to sue me; that I was hit by a drunk driver speeding
and that I would have got at least $10,000 and my children similar amounts.
(Equivalent to $40120 today)
That was off on a tangent
I am still not sure why I panic when I try to drive.
Could be my body telling me I am not safe with my injuries and health problems?
Instead of wallowing in “poor me” (which admittedly I was doing) I walk to the shops and to the library.
I walk around the block every day despite
having problems walking — arthritis – muscle pain from statin –degeneration of the spine — and because surgery made my right arm shorter than my left impossible to use a walker.
My Dad always said “count your blessing”
and I do.