My sophomore year of high school, 9:00 AM, my wailing cries filling up the silent car. “I can not do this anymore,” I look to my mother with desperation. I see the pity in her eyes and I hate it. I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemies. My brain acted as a broken record. Over and over again was that stuck feeling leaving me stranded and on edge every second of every day. 

In second grade I could have sworn I had diphtheria. In third grade I couldn’t be in a room with the door shut, in fear that I would be stuck with no way to escape. In fourth grade I had to have an even amount of ice cubes in my water or else I was going to die. I used to always be scared;  scared of the world, scared of what was going to happen to me, scared of the future, scared to move forward. If my life was a car, fear would have been in the driver’s seat. 

The world around me seemed to be tightening me up into its ever so unwelcoming embrace. Everyone is watching, everyone is waiting for you to crumble, everyone is surprised you even made it to school in the first place. This was an average 8:00 AM for me. That is, if I got myself into the car in the first place and didn’t tell my dad to turn around because the feeling of nausea and impending doom was just too overpowering for a day at school. I mean, the world could be completely obliterated, I could have a heart attack, I am going to have a heart attack, my chest hurts, my arm hurts, my right arm hurts, I am going to die right here right now in my first period AP World History class. I have to go home. 

July 2020 12:30 PM. I can barely hold down my lunch while waiting for my plans tonight around seven to begin. This will be the first time in eight months I have gone anywhere more than fifteen minutes away from home without my mother. A thirty minute drive to watch the sunset on the beach seems like a piece of cake to most, but for some reason my tears blur my vision when it is almost time to leave. “You can do it,” my younger brother tells me. I give him a hug and take a breath. That’s when I saw fear was pulling me by the reins, demanding my every move. This is not happening anymore. 

Since I was in the sixth grade I had been nervous about applying and going to college, when it was a lifetime away. It has always been on my radar but along the way teachers have shown me, quite literally, where I need to be. Fear no longer drives the car, pushes the buttons, or makes the commands. I do these things now, and I know just how my teachers guided me, I need to guide the children of our future. I will show them how to not only master the curriculum of my class but to face and overcome challenges of the outside world as well. 

July 2020, 8:45 PM. The oranges and pinks paint the sky as my brain absorbs the abundant beauty of this moment. The fire burns and pops illuminating my life surrounded by laughter and smiles, comfort within my chaos. A whole thirty minutes away from home. The highway had felt inviting for once in my life, the car had seemed to be welcoming to my anxious being. I will go to college, I will succeed and I will be happy. After all, I am driving now.