I Was Road Raged Today

On my way to work I was road raged. Big truck dude tailgating me dangerously close. I slowed down, meaning to make him back off. Big mistake. Got into right lane and he damn near sideswiped me. Then he tried to run me off the road. Stops right in front of me in a 45mph zone blocking two lanes of traffic. Gets out of his truck and throws a drink at my car. Gets back in his truck and proceeds to keep trying to cut me off. Come to a traffic stop and he rolls down his passenger window and screams at me. I keep my windows closed and hold up my phone because I have called 911. He races off but nearly hits two other cars.

I should’ve just pulled over when he left and put some space between us. Kept driving though, angry, in shock and not realizing what was the best thing to do. Got to work and ended up in a full panic/anxiety attack. Hands shaking so bad I could barely sign my trip sheet. Hard to breathe, almost passed out. Tried to talk with my union rep but she was busy. Assistant manager had nothing to offer but options already considered but unavailable.

My Station Agent took one look at me and realized I was incapable of working, found a way to mark me off. I felt guilty, ashamed of making his job more difficult at that moment. 

Walked outside and puffed my vape, pacing furiously. Realizing I was having a serious panic attack, called Beloved. She calmly reminded me what breathing exercise would calm me and reset my vagus nerve. It worked. Still upset, shaking. Angry. Feeling guilty for missing work. Gotta pay bills, eat, live. Walked back to my car, sat there with AC on blast. Still talking with Beloved, calming down before driving back home.

Three hours later, exhaustion is upon me. Although I slept a full eight last night it’s like I haven’t had any in a week.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s debilitating. The slightest incident can send me spiraling into a panic attack. This was a moment when I felt my life was in danger. It was fight or flight and I couldn’t manage either.

The “what if” and “I shoulda” games are raging within me. Monday Morning QB’s can pick me apart but it doesn’t matter. This job is killing me. If some crazed maniac doesn’t stop my heart the symptoms might. Blood pressure spikes are sometimes fatal.

Retirement seems impossible. I’m stuck doing this job because other transit options don’t interest me. Too old for yet another career change. Counseling is a benefit being used.

To my credit, I don’t hit the whisky bottle after scary moments. Don’t need a depressant to further complicate things. Just gonna rest. Write. Be thankful for what didn’t happen.

Tomorrow’s a new day.