posted on Aug, 24 2013 @ 05:24 PM
I once moved to Los Angeles, where due to my home, job and school, involved spending about 4.5 hours a day on the highway. (In great part the 405,
which I called "the 4 o' 5 miles an hour.")
Traffic was so crazy that literally a 3 minute difference in when I left for work would either result in my being 12 minutes early or 20 minutes late.
I could have rode a bicycle faster than driven, except (a) the distance and (b) no place to do so.
I had a manual transmission, and the traffic required a constant move back and forth between gears 1 and 2.
The highway was filled with people who would, apparently, happily injure or kill you in their great desire to get approximately 1.2 seconds ahead of
where they were.
It was during this time I understood why you cannot carry a gun in your car. I quite seriously wanted to KILL other drivers sometimes, and by the way
I disagree that we perceive it as only vehicles, because I had no desire to crash the car, I had the desire to kill the driver.
After some time of this, I would be screaming my head off with extensive epithets, slamming my hands on the steering wheel and sometimes horn, and
genuinely wishing death and destruction on the drivers of cars who, as usual, nearly caused a major accident involving me.
One day I snapped. I mean I literally lost my mind. I was getting more and more upset, I was very sleep deprived and stressed out and malnutritioned
during that era on top of everything else, and I started screaming -- and I just didn't stop. I mean I wasn't screaming words, I was just
*screaming* over and over again. And then I started laughing -- maniacally. Then I screamed again for awhile. Then I laughed again for awhile.
And it was over. From that time on, I was completely calm in traffic. Even under the worst circumstance.
This probably saved my life a couple of times later, in high speed traffic elsewhere, when my incredibly calm, instant reaction to something saved me.
I seriously wondered if this was a sort of survival instinct, and maybe the reason why soldiers start out as horrifically traumatized young men and
often end up completely cold. (Like that soldier running ammo in 'Saving Private Ryan.') Like the body/mind can only take so much trauma before you
just completely freak-the-f--k out and snap. But once you snap, you suddenly have vastly less (if any) emotion about it.
My theory is the body recognizes that the emotion is the primary damaging element eventually, and protects us.