The First Snow

So, I don’t know if many of you know this, but for me, the PTSD that I have shows up most prominently in my driving.  I’m not sure why.  I don’t know what driving has to do with any of the stuff that happened on August 24, 2009.  But for me, that’s where I have the most anxiety.  It’s hard for me to drive on a good day.  I avoid the highway like it’s my job.  I know all of the fastest routes that involve surface streets.  It requires much bravery for me to get from my house to, well, anywhere.

Driving on snow increases the anxiety about ten-fold.

Today was the first snow.

I watched the forecast last night with fear and trepidation.  I had appointments today that I did not want to cancel.  I felt the fear rising in my chest.  I got sweaty palms.  I got short of breath.  I forced myself to worry about it later, to just go ahead and go to sleep, to remember that sometimes it's not as bad as they say it’s going to be.   I’ll just get up early enough to give myself plenty of time to get there and be fine.

When I woke up this morning I looked out the window and it was definitely snowy.  Aw, shucks.  But, I had a little chat with myself.  I reminded myself that I learned to drive on snow pack.  I took my first driving test on snow pack (I didn’t pass, but that’s beside the point).  I grew up in Montana, for the love, I can do this.

I was bummed that there was no snow to shovel on my front walk.  This being the first snow, I was looking forward to shoveling my sidewalks for the first time.  I love shoveling snow.

I went out and scraped off my car, reminding myself fondly of the mornings that Sawan would get up and start my car and scrape it off for me.  He could be so sweet on the occasional day that he would get up early with me.

Then, I got in the car and made those snowy roads my bitch.  It was a better drive then it would have been on a regular day.  It may be that the roads just weren’t that bad.  It may be that I had great music.  It may be that the snow was just so beautiful that I couldn’t help but enjoy myself.  It may be that my skinny jeans fit me for the first time in a long time and I felt fabulous.  It may be that I’m just in a better place then I’ve been in a long time and I’m honestly getting better.  Whatever it was, I’ll take it.  Bring it on.