It seems the year is almost over and what have I got to show for it? I still haven’t been able to face driving again, though my enjoyment of it feels so strong still. It has gotten easier, I’m not panicking every time I see a car and taking the bus is fine. I know driving again will help, but I’m just not sure.
Maybe I need to take a few lessons again? Perhaps that’d help.
Everyone says it’s all in my mind though and it’ll soon go, but I don’t really believe them. They didn’t hit a child.
Going through the whole it wasn’t my fault because the child lock wasn’t on the door and his father hadn’t strapped his two year old son in, still isn’t helping. I was the one driving the car behind, shuffling my iPod from my ex’s favorite song that had suddenly come on. My eyes had been down for a few seconds then back up to see the car door swinging up, something blue and pink tumbling towards me and the flash of red brake lights.
They say it was luckily I was only doing twenty odd and not on a motorway or a country road. I get that. But a boy still died. His injures from hitting the road where the resulted, I just made it worse.
I don’t know why I’m writing about this again. I have pages and pages of the event now. All of them read the same, though sometimes I put in the title of the song, or the afterwards with all the flashing lights and the people and the hospital. It’s all here. In the first every diary of my life.
At least the dreams have gotten better and I’m no longer seeing things. It doesn’t mean normal has arrived. I think that’s still far away. Some days I feel like a robot, empty of thoughts and feelings, just getting on with my tasks. Once in awhile, I’ll have a break down though. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve cried on the bus. As of yet, no one has asked me what’s wrong.
Perhaps, if they did I might feel better.