Hi everyone, I came to this site to tell my story, maybe it will help someone. This is my experience of overcoming fears. The thing is that I was very afraid to drive a car. No, the words "very afraid" do not convey my condition at all. I was shaking behind the wheel. A lot of people run to get their license as soon as they turn 18. I didn't. My parents kept telling me, "how many accidents? You'll be safe." Or "look how the neighbor crashed the car", "here, she has a head injury, and now she's sick, and if she hadn't driven the car, she'd be in one piece". And it was imprinted in my head that "a car is scary, an accident, disability". I was also told that I was "inattentive", "it's very difficult to drive a car". And I was afraid. Every year the need to drive increased. So I decided to get my license. I asked my father to teach me how to drive, and I was told no, "It's dangerous." I asked my husband to teach me to drive a little bit at a time. To which I got a "you can't handle it...and you'll delete the car" refusal. I don't remember exactly what the "last straw" was, but I decided to study for my license "secretly". I paid for a driving school and started attending classes. I learned the theory quickly. But when the practice of driving began, I started to have fears. I remembered everything that I was told "you can't do it, it's hard"....

I was shaking while driving, I was paralyzed by fear and I really couldn’t. The instructor told me and another guy that we were the worst. Moreover, when we started training in a city where there was a lot of traffic, I was afraid of cars. Everyone. It seemed to me that they would definitely come at me. Or I'm on them. Large or expensive cars were especially scary. Because a big car is a potential death

Due to panic while driving, I did not listen to the instructor. The instructor considered himself very experienced, and his pride was greatly affected by the fact that he could not teach me. In the morning, he told me that when he saw that the first student on his schedule was me, he assessed his day as unsuccessful. I told him that he was probably a bad teacher. Angry, he told me “I will teach you, no matter what it costs me.” He explained that I needed to remove the “barrier”.

When I started driving in the car, we continued to argue about whether he was a good teacher. During the argument, I became angry, and it no longer mattered to me whether I was afraid or not. I was all in this argument. At some point, the instructor said admiringly, “look how well you rode,” when you’re angry, you forget about fear. I myself was surprised that this was so. Yes, he was right, I drove and was not afraid, I went through all the turns. At this point, I got a call from work asking me to come over right away. I hurried off and asked my driving instructor to drive me. And he said no. I got angry, so I drove myself. I was only thinking that I had to get there as soon as possible, there was no fear, because my mind was dominated by "hurry to work". At the intersection, I looked at the instructor and saw that he was happy. "You are driving very well! You see, when you really have to go somewhere, you are not afraid", he said. He was smiling and satisfied. I can say that breaking my fear barrier was helped by my anger. When I was angry, there was no fear. But that doesn't mean I didn't work on the residual slight fear of driving later on. But I'll write about that another time)

For the past 5 years I’ve been very unlucky when it comes to pets. At school, I had a gorgeous tabby cat that lived with my family for 16 years. It was my dad’s cat but I adored it, and since then I’ve always wanted to have my own cat.. Five years ago, I bought a kitten. It looked healthy, and the first two nights went well, but on the third morning it refused to eat, became apathetic to toys, and generally looked ill. We took him to the vet, and the blood tests showed feline coronavirus. I didn’t even know cats suffered from such diseases! The odds were against us, and the kitten didn’t survive. The vet said to avoid adopting any new animals for at least a year.

Three years later, I decided I was ready for a cat and bought another kitten. This time I checked the kittens’s passport, so that all the vaccines were there. He was a lively and beautiful young feline, slept in my bed, and made me very happy for four months. Then I planned to go on a vacation, so I asked our neighbor to look after my cat for just 5 days. I come back, a week passes, and I notice that my cat doesn’t look well. Again, we go to the vet, another blurry week of treatment. The vet’s diagnosis is infectious peritonitis. How?? The vet said maybe it happened because of the stress when the cat was left alone with a stranger to care for him. Or perhaps something else triggered the virus the cat had already been carrying. In the end he became too weak, and we were advised to help him pass away painlessly.

I cried for months. It’s my second cat, and I couldn’t take proper care of him. I feel guilty that I went on that vacation. I could have waited and given him more time to grow up and become healthier.

I do still want to have a cat. But should I? Maybe it’s a sign that I have bad luck with pets.

We have a child, a boy of 5 years old. We aren’t married, but we’ve been in a relationship on and off for 7 years. My partner has anger issues, and he used to smoke weed, but he gave up on the latter when our child was born. It was my primary demand for us to live together. I really wanted us to work out for the sake of our son. He is very attached to his dad. He doesn’t understand lots of things going on between us, and I try not to drag him into it. When I cry because of my partner, I’ll tell my son that I’m just tired or that I’m sick. But part of me is longing to tell him the truth. When we have a fight, it’s a rule to go outside the house so that Kevin (my son) doesn’t hear swear words. The worst of it all is that my partner was having these fits of anger less frequently when he was on weed. He keeps blaming me for the aggravation of his symptoms. When he’s on edge, which happens at least once a week, he rages around the house, he can hit things or walls. I don’t even ask anymore if it’s about his work or something else, the result is always that he spits his venom out on me, and I’d prefer not to be his verbal punch bag. He has never hit me, but he has grabbed me out of the house by the wrist a couple of times, and I had bruises afterwards. This almost made me leave him last time, but he apologized and begged me to stay, with all the usual words of affection. My son knows his father is loud, so I hope he doesn’t realize how often we yell at each other while smiling through the teeth. I don’t know if I want to be in this relationship, Kevin is the main reason why I’m still where I am.

Last night I packed my things and was almost outside the house (I told Kevin we were going to see grandmother, my mother, which is true). And he suddenly asked if his father will go with us and looked so upset when I said he wouldn’t. I hid my tears and unpacked. Tomorrow my partner comes home from a shift. I’m at a loss what to do...

Women's ways of solving problems.

If you think that when I passed the exams and got my license, all my problems were over, you are wrong. Problems arose often, considering that I drove a car every day. My husband, when I passed my driver's license, said, "It's nothing. Try to handle the maintenance of the car. I didn't want you to learn to drive, and I'm not going to take care of your car." Because the driver has to do it himself.

I was offended, of course. Then I got angry and said to myself, "I'll figure it out somehow, I have to prove to him that I can." Besides, what could be the problem?

Pretty soon it turned out that I didn't know how to fill up my car, and I had to go to gas stations with gas station attendants. I didn't know where the button to open the tank was. They helped me at the gas station (I endured the laughter).

I complained to a friend and she said, "Put on a pink dress and pretend to be a silly doll" at gas stations and car repair shops, which is what I always do. I looked at her surprised and incredulous.

What do you mean, stupid? I'm smart. A friend said "it works." So I bought a pink dress (that's a silly women's dress to me) and wore it to go out on the town. "Don't forget the silly look", said the friend, "no glasses. I decided that if I wore bright colors, I'd look sillier.

Pink scarf, stilettos, the look is complete. I was driving and I was afraid that the car would go bad and I wouldn't fix it, my husband used to scare me about it all the time.

And I started to hear whistling after a few days. The thing is that I did not buy a new car, as I was sure that I would definitely crash it. And then the whistle!

I didn't tell my husband (what's the point?), and went to the car service in my pink outfit. With a silly look I said that there was a "whistling" in the car. And the master looked at me with the expression "what can I take from her, she has no mind at all" and started to look at the car.

It turned out that the belt "on the alternator" had dried out and stretched. The foreman was sure of his diagnosis. And reassured me "buy it and we'll install it right away". What do you mean buy? Where and how to choose it?

Enjoying the fact that he clearly surpasses me in knowledge, the master said that there are no belts for my car, but you can pick up a similar one in the store and gave me a belt in my hands. That means I have to buy it without a car, I can't drive.

I mentally wished the master that his wife would give him tights in his hands like that with the wish "buy tights with the same number of dans". And I went to the nearest store. In the store, happiness was waiting for me from the queue of men at the cash register.

Seeing my unhappy pink visage with the belt "on the alternator" in my hands, everyone started to help me. A discussion ensued as to which one to choose for my mini car. I could see that my friend's method was "working".

I began to breathe easier, and I started to play the image of a "silly blonde" more confidently. In the end, the men chose me a universal wrench for the car (I didn't have one), and happily, with a new belt in my hands, I went to the car service. Further shots of the winner: "they change my belt", and "I'm going home with a victory".

I confidently came home and my husband asked "how was your ride?", "what's with the silly dress?". I carelessly said (I wrote down the phrase in advance): "I actually changed the belt on the alternator today.

And this is my new favorite dress