​Licence

I wanna give up. I’ve been learning for my driver’s license for quite some time. I passed the first exam — the one where you answer questions — and now, this Monday at **08:45 AM**, I have my last exam, the practical one, I believe it’s called.

My parents have invested over 40k into driving lessons and everything else. My dad is chill about it — he always has been. My mom isn’t. She keeps pressuring me about it to the point that I cry after each call.

I think my driving instructor is already fed up with me. But the thing is, I stopped wanting to get my license after the third or fourth time I didn’t pass that first exam — the one with the questions. She kept calling me stupid and a disgrace and said things like, *“Why can’t you pass?! I’ve paid so much money for you to get your license and you can’t answer correctly on this first exam?!”*

She doesn’t know the feeling — how your brain forgets the answers, how your body starts shaking, your leg starts bouncing up and down, and you start to hyperventilate. Some people may not feel like that, but I did, and I still do.

I grew up in a complicated household, but that’s something for another story.

Back on topic, my dad would always tell her to stop bringing up how much money they spent, because I don’t need that burden on me. Not now, especially since my last exam is around the corner. Does she listen? No. She never did.

A few days ago, I started having headaches, dizzy spells, no appetite, that sensation you get before vomiting, breathing problems for some reason, and my heart going crazy. I don’t know if it’s because of the stress she’s putting on me, or maybe it’s something else entirely. But I strongly believe it’s stress, because right now — and for the past two or three days — I’ve been feeling quite fine.

But this is all for now. Some of the stories I wrote as “fantasy” or anything like that — some of them aren’t fake. They’re real, and they’re written with the purpose of getting them out of my mind before things got out of control.

The first one is called *“Autopilot,”* dated one year ago. The most recent one is called *“Drunk,”* dated one month ago.

Take care, darlings.

And remember, if writing helps you stay sane. Then don’t give up on writing, no matter what someone’s says