.My actual name is Xi, I post things I find interesting, inspiring, relatable, aesthetically pleasing; put an honest effort into writing some type of commentary on the pictures and reblogged articles I post, enjoy ranting about what's on my mind, retelling significant, random happenings from my life, and have the habit of typing long, run-on sentences. Stay awhile, you might find something interesting:)
I started it today and I’m still kind of confused…
Five months ago I earned my driver’s license and was set free to roam the roads of my humble, but busy city. When I still drove around with my mother and permit, however, I was involved in a small fender bender that left me shaken, but otherwise fine.
About three months ago I was involved in a second fender bender… My mother and sister were in the car. It was another small collision because, again, no one was hurt and there was only a small, easily fixable dent. But unfortunately it changed me in a way that essentially it rendered me afraid of driving. I’m cautious and always vigilantly watching the person behind me through the rear-view mirror. I’ve unconsciously developed simple little habits—if they drive too close I speed up and when they stop too close I inch up. Obviously they are common sense-type habits but the more I drive the more these habits become obsessions.
I am not a very good driver. Driving has never come easily to me and has caused me to be in many,many bad situations but luckily no wrecks. The following nights of each near death experience I always stay up and replay it over and over in my head, which leads me to thinking about the times before. Each time I escape an almost fatal (almost fatal in my mind) accident it just increases this paranoia of mine. I fall asleep thinking about them and wake up thinking about them. I don’t even know how to count the hours of sleep I’ve lost worrying over nothing. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t know if I am thinking about those near death experiences or dreaming about them.
I am writing this at 4 o’clock in the morning. There is, of course a reason. Story and more complaining about my life: While leaving the student parking lot today, I hit someone’s car and left a big scratch. I was blocking the line so I continued driving and parked in one of the vacant parking places. I checked it out and the paint was messed up on the front of the car. I’d seen the driver of the car before but do not actually know her. I only waited for about a minute and thought it would be best if I call my mom to see what to do. I thought I had to pick up my sister from school so I felt in a rush to leave soon, so I did. I forgot to leave a note, which I really, really regret. It turns out my sister had a half day and I could just go home. As soon as I did, I made a few calls and messaged many people and figured out the name of the girl. I messaged her on Facebook and texted her with the number provided on her profile. She filed a report at the school and the school called my mom. Luckily it was after I told my mom so she explained to the vice-principle that it wasn’t just a hit and run and that I was going to take responsibility for it. She also mentioned to give our number to her parents so they could get in touch. It’s been 13 hours since I messaged her and 14 ½ hours since the incident and we have yet to hear from anyone. I’m on edge and just want to go ahead and settle this. I literally spent an hour messaging upperclassmen asking if they knew this person. I know I hit her car and everything but the least she could do is send me some sort of reply. Anyway, I know in my head that it’ll all be fine and it’s not that big a deal but for some reason I’m really bothered. Admittedly, I’ve been crying off and on and can’t stop worrying. Maybe it’s because I feel bad for not leaving a note or not waiting for her. I don’t know. I really don’t know what my sub-conscious thinks is going to happen but something is scaring the hell out of it.
Up until now I believed that this was due to my naturally obsessive personality, but now I am really attributing these symptoms to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My mom is a psychiatrist and mentioned this once before. I have never truly talked to her about how I have been feeling—for I have only recently realized these feelings. I plan to talk to her about it tomorrow; it seems like an appropriate time.
Phew, I really needed to get that out.
Today I saw that my best friend added my father to Facebook. I’m not friends with him, and no one else was either. I messaged her and asked her to please remove him. She asked why, and I responded that I just don’t want him connected yet, it’s complicated. She didn’t, but she remained on Facebook so I called her and got her to. I haven’t talked to him in weeks. Him and my mom have been divorced for more 12 years. I tell him what is going on in my life through the phone or messaging him every once in a while. I am not ready for him to be friends with me on Facebook. I’m not used to him knowing everything. I have not seen him in real life for 2+ years at the most, and before that another two years. Her father died a few years ago… I can guess what she is thinking…but I am just not ready. Ha, Facebook. It seems so trivial to just add someone or so childish to say you don’t want to be “friends” with someone… But this is myfather. I don’t want him to spy on me through my friends. If he is going to know what it happening in my life, I want to be the one to add him when I am ready. No one has to understand this. Not even my best friend.