Until I was 40 I had an extreme fear of driving-a real strong phobia. I walked and took the bus everywhere.. I did NOT even own  a car. I felt like I was living life in slow motion. I was angry at myself everyday. 

I started going to CODA (Codependents ANonymous) to work on relationships. Well I unexpectedly ended up doing the 12 steps on my fear of driving. In the middle of doing the steps (can’t remember what step I was on) my parents called and said they were buying a new car and giving me their old car. I did not freak out in front of them,- just to myself and with my friends. I had ALWAYS used the excuse of not having a car, so I could be “taken care of”. I was very codependent.

 When the day came for me to go pick up the car, my best friend at the time followed me home. I was so scared I was shaking. I knew I had to do this.  After that, everytime I drove somewhere I would drive a few blocks and then pull over in a parking lot and cry. This went on for weeks. It was one of the most difficult things I had to overcome-not only my fear of driving but my codependency on others. Now 23 years later, I cannot imagine not having a car. It gave ME back to ME.

Looking back, I can see when it started. When I was around 15 years old, my mother (RIP) drove me to school and dropped me off probably about a block up for convenience. I got out of the car, and walked in front of  her car to cross the street. The car moved forward and  hit me in the arm with  a very strong impact. I felt at the time like she did it on purpose, because I saw her face (very serious). I was so shocked. I NEVER said anything to her or anyone else. I had a horrible painful bruise  which covered my whole forarm which I covered up at home and in public. At the time, my mother had a  As a child, I experienced my mother’s anger a lot, and so I thought that everything that went wrong was my fault. I covered up the incident to protect her and because I thought I deserved what she did. When I came of age, I was too afraid to drive, because I was afraid I would run over someone. As an adult (somewhere in my 30’s), I finally told my mother; and she walked out of the room crying.