August 2017 / Non-fiction & mental health / 7 mins (1800 words)
Imagine you’re in your car by yourself on a busy motorway. Just one of the tens of thousands of cars on that motorway.
You can guess what you’re up to better than me. Maybe you’re driving carefully or maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re flicking between radio stations or songs on your phone. Maybe you’re imagining what you really wanted to say in that argument or you’re thinking about something that happened last week or will happen next week. Maybe you’re cursing the weather or the traffic. Maybe you’re crying. Maybe you’re singing. Whatever you’re doing, it’s what you do when you’re on your journey alone in your car.
As you drive, a car cuts past you on the fast lane. For a moment you see the driver’s tense face, his white knuckles gripping the wheel and then – whoosh – he’s gone.