timepiececlock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timepiececlock) wrote2004-06-02 11:08 pm
timepiececlock) wrote2004-06-02 11:08 pm
only slightly hazardous
Me. Cars. Interesting thing happening there.
On most normal days I typically go through a wider range of emotional states while driving than in any other activity.
Put more simply, stick me behind the wheel and I become an emotional basketcase.
I don't know what it is about driving a car that makes me go from being impassioned by music at unheard of decibles to laughing in delight as I turn corners to literally crying out of frustration and practically punching the stereo and wantign to pull over and just SCREAM.
I can go through all that in one driving session. I vascilate between extremes. It's exhausting.
I don't know why I get so upset. Is it the enclosed environment? Is it all the different things demanding your attention at once? I'm not a bad driver; on the whole I'd say I was about average, meaning I'm attentive, quick to respond, but not completely perfect. So why does a little mistake while driving make me want to literally tear the fabric off the interior?
I'm not exaggerating. Sometimes if I get upset I have to pull over because it takes all my power not to do violence to something around me-- that or break down in sobs. And all it takes is for me to miss a freeway exist, then to try to get back but to miss the turn again or to make the wrong assumption about where to go. And pretty soon I've screwed up six times and even as I try to fix it I just get more and more late to my destination, and I only have myself to blame, until my emotions go haywire and I look like someone whose lifelong pet just died. When I could have been singing happily only minutes before.
It's like, when I'm in a car by myself, whatever enzyme in brain that allows me some sovereignty over my emotional spectrum simply ceases to be pumped into my bloodstream.
My mom says she gets like that occasionally, but it's hard to judge from her response if it feels as strong to her as it does to me. Maybe its hereditary. That would be nice, because then it wouldn't be my fault; it would be those evil genetics.
On most normal days I typically go through a wider range of emotional states while driving than in any other activity.
Put more simply, stick me behind the wheel and I become an emotional basketcase.
I don't know what it is about driving a car that makes me go from being impassioned by music at unheard of decibles to laughing in delight as I turn corners to literally crying out of frustration and practically punching the stereo and wantign to pull over and just SCREAM.
I can go through all that in one driving session. I vascilate between extremes. It's exhausting.
I don't know why I get so upset. Is it the enclosed environment? Is it all the different things demanding your attention at once? I'm not a bad driver; on the whole I'd say I was about average, meaning I'm attentive, quick to respond, but not completely perfect. So why does a little mistake while driving make me want to literally tear the fabric off the interior?
I'm not exaggerating. Sometimes if I get upset I have to pull over because it takes all my power not to do violence to something around me-- that or break down in sobs. And all it takes is for me to miss a freeway exist, then to try to get back but to miss the turn again or to make the wrong assumption about where to go. And pretty soon I've screwed up six times and even as I try to fix it I just get more and more late to my destination, and I only have myself to blame, until my emotions go haywire and I look like someone whose lifelong pet just died. When I could have been singing happily only minutes before.
It's like, when I'm in a car by myself, whatever enzyme in brain that allows me some sovereignty over my emotional spectrum simply ceases to be pumped into my bloodstream.
My mom says she gets like that occasionally, but it's hard to judge from her response if it feels as strong to her as it does to me. Maybe its hereditary. That would be nice, because then it wouldn't be my fault; it would be those evil genetics.