After I totaled my car January 2016 my dad said maybe I shouldn’t drive anymore because my medication wasn’t going to allow me to drive safely.
Maybe he was right. But I freaked out.
I’ve always had a dependent relationship with driving and having my own car. It has allowed me to live out my impulses of running away from things or giving immediate attention to my needs. It was the literal and figurative vehicle to my freedom, stable or manic.
I never paid much attention to the “use caution before operating heavy machinery” label you see on medication containers.
During a manic episode, I shred my tire and ended up driving on the bare rim. I didn’t care, I needed to get to Whole Foods. It wasn’t until someone at a stoplight made me pull over that I gave my car the attention it needed. My dad was furious and left me carless for a week. I (manically) retaliated by smashing his plates and bowls in his kitchen.
While the doctors were still figuring out the right medication for me, I was put on seroquel xr. It made me seem like I was driving drunk and I was pulled over. Nothing harmful happened and I wasn’t given a ticket, but I was clearly not able to drive.
I still ignored the sign and kept on with my life. I lived in the suburbs with my parents, there was no way I was giving up my keys.
This past weekend, I was back home, driving and aimlessly turned into a car, causing my front bumper and his back bumper to be scrapped. We were both okay and no serious damage was done. However, I’m starting to wonder if the medication I take is correlated to all of my smaller and larger fender benders.
Next week I’m moving into a studio apartment closer to my office. I’m officially giving up my keys. I’ve grown afraid of driving and am done with having a car, at least for this chapter of my life. I’m excited to live true city life, no car, just my own two feet and some public transportation.