*Note: Before I tell the following story, it’s important to know that I am not asking for pity or complaining in any way. I just found the whole thing unusual and interesting to blog.
I had the strangest thing happen yesterday. M and I were headed to run an errand in another part of town and had to take the freeway to get there. We’d only been on the freeway a minute or two before I started to get terrified. It was an awful feeling, like I was sure we were going to die. I kept feeling the car slide off the side of the road as we went around curves or overpasses. I had to keep my eyes closed, praying the whole time.
Normally freeways don’t bother me in the least. I have a few weird irrational fears, but even they don’t instill this kind of terror in me. I used to be a bit fearful of freeways back when I was learning to drive, but once I was driving them I was fine. And I have never felt like I did yesterday when someone else was driving, especially M. His driving is quite reasonable, just the right balance between cautious and aggressive, perfect for city driving. I haven’t felt at all unsafe with him–well, since PJ was born, but that’s another story.
So I have no idea what happened yesterday, what could have caused that terror. After suffering silently for quite some time, I finally let M know what was going on, even though I was embarrassed to admit it. I wasn’t sure he understood the enormity of what I was feeling, but he kept mentioning it every so often while we were inside the store.
When we got back in the car, he told me about a time he had a similar fear about driving, one just as sudden and unexpected as mine. Basically he had a strong urge not to drive anywhere that day. He couldn’t avoid it, however, and ended up getting in an accident. It was an accident caused by someone else that was completely unavoidable on his part and therefore was definitely not caused by that fear from earlier in the day.
Because of his own experience, M was not taking my irrational fear lightly. We took a different route home that put us on the freeway about a third of the time. I didn’t feel that awful feeling on the way home. We’ll never know if what I felt was simply an irrational fear or if it may have been a premonition of something that never happened because of our precautions.
I think what strikes me most about the whole experience was how M reacted to it. I was certain I was overreacting to the whole thing and tried to downplay it to him and let him know not to worry because I was coping with it. He didn’t take my fear lightly, though. He let me know it was okay to be feeling what I was feeling, even if it didn’t make any sense whatsoever. He didn’t make me feel embarrassed about it at all; he was supportive to me instead.
I guess I should have expected as much from my awesome husband. He loves me for all my crazy weirdness, not despite it, and I feel honored that he picked me to put up with instead of someone who doesn’t randomly flip out on him from time to time.