I am not putting myself behind the wheel ever again.
Several months ago, my parents wished for me to learn how to drive. I am the type of person who does not wish to be behind the wheel at any cost. For me, I am unable to handle the mentality of being responsible for for not only myself and those who are in the car as I drive, but also for the outside world in the event an accident happens. I could not phantom myself as the reason someone got hurt. It would be too much for me to handle, and I would be very afraid about what would happen later after, be it paying for insurance or shitting myself in the room and becoming depressed. Sure, as long as I do not think about it, it will not happen. At least, that is what people always keep on telling me, but we are talking about a kid who is paranoid by even the slightest amount of things because he thinks too far into the future of what may happened when it has not happened yet.
In any case, to make sure they stop talking about it, I decided to take a driving course and learn how to drive. For the past two weeks, I would learn from a teacher how to drive a car. While the man was a good teacher, I feel as though I am not learning. Yes, I am in the car behind the wheel, but when my teacher corrects everything that I am doing wrong, I feel like I cannot learn from my mistakes. Of course, the teacher’s mindset is to not get me to crash; that is why he has the brakes on his side as well. But, as I am behind the wheel, I feel that I am not the one riving, but my teacher is. I thought once again that I was a robot tasked to perform whatever it is I am to do. I learned everything; that is for certain. Applying it in real life, the reality hit me hard, and I continuously think that I cannot do it.
Of course, such a mentality is bad, and it certainly showed today when I took my driving test. I performed the opening like how I was told to do, but somehow, my grader did not see the small things that I had done, which clearly pissed me off, but I ignored it. The drive was smooth until she told me to park. Here, I was scared because the place I was told to park at had some space, but I feared it was not enough for the car to squeeze through. It probably was, but I do not recall parking in such a small space before. Of course, I could not do it and left. The thing that hit me the most was a stop sign that I happened to pass at the corner of my eye because I was not paying attention and thought it was another runway. After that, I got a failure as a mark. Had I paid attention, I could have made it, but because I did not see it, I failed. There is no second chance, and worse case scenarios continues to be on my mind on what would happen if that happened in real life. Thankfully no one was walking.
In the end, I am glad that I took the test and finally got it over with. The annoyance of my family wanting me to rive has ceased now that they know I have failed, but I am sure that they would want me to take it again a few months later. To them, I say that I took it, failed it, and am glad I failed because I never wanted to be behind the wheel from the start. I am sure this subject is going to pop up much later (or earlier) in the future. Until then, a subject has been thrown out the window…for now.