I Had The Most Stupid Car Accident
All I could think about was to get back into a car and drive
It was a warm, sunny day in late spring.
I was working as a field biologist and used to drive a 4WD to the places where I was collecting data.
That day, I had just finished my morning tasks and was driving back to the house that served as the team’s base during the fieldwork. In the afternoon, my work would be lighter.
So, I was cheerful and relaxed, appreciating the day.
I had reached a straight road when I noticed a bee flying around in the car. I wasn’t worried, but I got distracted for a few seconds looking at it and wondering if I should stop and let it out before it stung me.
Suddenly, a massive impact and a hard scraping awoke me from that thought.
The car stopped. And I couldn’t believe my eyes as I saw its right front sitting on a low wall, the front tire on the ground, in front of me.
I had crashed into the safety wall of a bridge. And the impact was so powerful it broke and ripped the right front tire off.
That wall saved my life. It prevented the car from falling into a small stream about 2 or 3 meters below.
I was shocked and confused.
How did that happen? Yes, I had taken my eyes off the road. But my hands had been firmly holding the wheel in line. And the road was straight.
Then I remembered my colleagues had complained something wasn’t right with the car’s steering. It had drifted to the right while I got distracted by the bee.
The bee. I have no idea if it escaped unharmed. I was physically OK. The car was tragically damaged.
I barely remember what happened next — all the people who started surrounding me; or most of what the police told me. Nor do I remember telling my colleagues or boss about it.
I had only two things on my mind: the growing urge to get rid of all the attention and be alone; and the recognition that I needed to drive ASAP.
If I didn’t get in a car and drive that day, I might never be able to do it again.
You see, my mother is terrified of driving.
She has the license, but she never drove. She decided she couldn’t drive, so she never did.
And when I was getting my driver’s license, I was secretly afraid I’d fail.
So, it took me a while to get it. I signed up for a driving school during my first year of college, but I rarely went there. I avoided it for so long that my father told me I would never have my license.
But my little sister saved me. She was always more resolved than I was. When she went to the same University, she signed up in the same driving school, which pushed me into getting serious about it once and for all!
So, after the accident, I was determined to not let myself be hunted by the fear of driving. It had been humiliating enough to have had such a nonsensical accident. I wouldn’t let it do more harm to my self-esteem than it had already!
That same afternoon, I took my own car and finished my work day.
In the following days, things got pretty awful at work. The boss didn’t want me to drive, and my colleagues were the least supportive people I have ever met. Luckily, it was close to the end of my contract, and these happenings pushed me into a career change that led me to where I am today. But this is not what I want to tell you about.
The psychological toll of that accident stood with me for a while.
During that first post-accident drive, I experienced this chill deep in my stomach. A feeling that something dreadful is about to happen, that the world is dark and there is nothing beautiful to live for.
That horrible deep sensation of anguish kept arising every time I drove. A cold in the stomach, an emptiness in my heart. Every time it happened, I’d tell myself, ‘just drive, and it will go away.’ And after a moment, it would.
Sometimes, that awful sensation would arise more than once.
And every time, I would acknowledge it and let it go. I would endure that pain and agony for a couple of minutes and calm myself down with some reasoning — I’d tell myself there was no point in being afraid.
I have always been more prone to logical thinking than to superstition. And I guess I took advantage of it to overcome these feelings. I used mindfulness before I even knew it existed.
It took a year or so, but slowly, those intrusive sensations disappeared.
Until a few years ago.
The sensations came back at an overwhelming moment in my life. I was working almost a full-time job and running out of time to finish writing my doctoral dissertation.
I had always thought what I had experienced was vertigo. But, as I was now realizing, it was anxiety.
As I got closer to the deadline to submit the thesis, those painful sensations started to come again while I drove home from work. And they would arise hand in hand with the thought that I would fail to deliver the thesis!
There I was again, hunted by acute feelings of shame.
Anticipating failure.
And it made me feel as ashamed as I had after that absurd accident.
Long story short, I managed to submit my thesis on time, so no shameful feelings were aggravated.
But these experiences helped me learn something about myself: critically thinking about my deepest fears helped me become more resilient.
Emotions have a profound influence on how we see the world.
When we’re down, we see everything a little less colorful. Despair, anguish, and anxiety can take control of our life.
One way to go around that is by reasoning with ourselves, telling ourselves how our thoughts don’t make sense.
No, you’re not a total failure as a driver just because you had an accident. No, you’re not going to have an accident every time you drive somebody else’s car. No, you don’t deserve to be put aside and treated like an inept just because you failed once.
This helps bring in some sense and reality.
And hopefully, getting over it.
