Narrative Essay On Drinking And Driving

Normally in life, I play it pretty safe. I calculate my every move, my every word, my thoughts. I over analyze and over think everything. But there’s one activity that always shows my more reckless side: driving. I love driving. I feel drunken with power and prowess, untouchable. With that being said, I completely and totally understand why car insurance is much higher for teenagers and young adults. However, it wasn’t always this way for me. My first few weeks of driving I was terrified beyond all beliefs. I feel like I had a severe case of pre-PTSD. Every time I saw a car coming towards me on the opposite side of the street I would have a slight panic attack. I always thought I wasn’t inside of the lines. That honestly paranoid me. I would set the mirrors downwards so that I could obsessively check to see if I was perfectly in between the lines every other second. I always had this terrible thought in my head that someone would side swipe me or actually be driving in my lane and hit me. I struggled with my hand placement. I was taught to place my hands at “ten and two” but it just felt so awkward and uptight that I ditched it for something more convenient for my style of driving. Parking was somewhat difficult, especially parallel parking. I’m somewhat of a perfectionist so, of course, I wanted to park perfectly in between the lines and have the same amount of space on one side of the car as was on the other. Speed limit signs were basically my bible during those crucial months. In fact, I would try to go at least 5 mph less than the actual

But the only thing that appeared as the smoke faded was an overconfident, extra cocky, fearless version of myself. I had drastically gone from one extreme to the next in a matter of months. Now I was comfortably taking all kinds of risks that I would never have dreamed of taking during my first encounters with this new driving