Consequences at Eighty-One Mile Per Hour

Just a friendly reminder that sometimes the facts of my stories are always truthful but sometimes vague so I can protect the innocent, the helpful, and the fucked up.

This blog entry is meaningful for me for a few reasons. One-although I have experienced kindness on many open roads, I recently experienced good mental health support during an interaction that could have had significant long term consequences. Two-it’s funny how small the circle of life really is.

My week was bad. Overdoses, suicide attempts, mean and angry people (not just me), lies, pain, suffering, and overall just a pretty regular week. I was lucky to get a night out of town to visit friends. My drive was “spectacularly” thrown off course when while on the phone (with Princess B).

Forty miles out of my way, with Ed Sheeran blaring in my ears, I found myself driving “ninetyish” miles an hour. Then I was like, what the fuck! “That’s way too fast!” So I slowed to “eightyish” feeling relieved because that’s a much safer, right! Next, there was a pretty white car driving towards me and I knew. FOR SURE.

It was like a movie. He passed me, then simultaneously pulled onto the shoulder to whip his car around, while flipping those beautiful lights on to chase what could only be someone who robbed a bank or gas station. I may have considered the thrill of a chase, but of course would never break the law in such an obvious and felonious way.

When I seen the writing on the wall, of course I pulled over to await my fate. To be clear, over twenty years of speeding, I was due my just desserts. The officer, whom we will call “The Huntsman” because he is tasked to uphold laws and directives however, the Huntsman also uses integrity and good judgement to do what is just and right.

As the Huntsman carefully approached my open window his hand was tactically placed to defend if necessary, and he asked me if I was alright. Clearly, he was expecting something or someone very different than who he was actually encountering. I responded by telling him, “I was about to find out, if I was alright.”

The Huntsman was thoughtful and asked good questions to ensure I was not a threat to him or myself. We talked about driver safety, the danger of not having more coping skills (than speeding and whiskey) and how our fields of work tends to create a high level of stress. He used his mental health first aid skills like a PRO!

We talked for several minutes on ten side of the road and realized we both knew “Sheriff Nottingham” in addition to our mutual fondness of whiskey. When we parted I was able to appreciate how taking the risk I was taking could have had a terrible and negative impact on my life, which would have affected my little responsibilities as well as my job.

For the past few weeks I have thought about the interaction that evening. Of course I still speed, however, I am more thoughtful about where and when I speed. The Huntsman and I shared a nice glass of whiskey via messaging consisting solely of good amber and good conversation. I discovered an art of conversation I had previously been unable to practice.

It was simple and easy (well as easy as it could be without ever practicing). I learned information about this person without flirting or using finesse (manipulation, I know, I was shocked too). Maybe it was the Basil Hayden, maybe it was the fact that we are several miles apart so there’s no pressure to be anything or anyone different than who we are.

Maybe the proclaimed “devil on my shoulder” has been more of a positive influence. Maybe seemingly “bad ideas” aren’t all bad. The only facts I have right now are…Ive has several interactions with the opposite sex that have been light hearted and they feel sincere and easy.

I currently have a low level of expectations from others, where before I had no expectations which, in my mind, allowed me to feel in control of situations. However, I’m finding that having some expectations feels more balanced. I feel less need to be “in control” or “build walls.”

The “consequences” of me getting “caught” driving eighty-one miles per hour was putting myself in a position of complete submission(which I’ve never ever been). Doing so, I was forced to sit with the feelings of not having control over the outcome from my actions. I was honest and vulnerable during the exchange and as a result “The Huntsman” was able to see the benefits of being “just and right.”

I’m going to keep trying this different approach and take the risk of being hurt by having expectations. I’ll keep moving forward in this journey, not alone And not feeling alone, but with many who have the same struggle.