I have been officially* self-diagnosed with a type of anxiety.
At 28, I have regretfully and quite forcefully begun the transition into 'adulthood' and making 'adult decisions' and so as part of that I recently decided to purchase a new 'adult-ish' car.
No more scented novelty air-freshener thingos hanging from mirror, no more piles of CDs being destroyed under the feet of passengers, no more (shock) McDonald's wrappers being left on the backseat.
No this is a full-on legitimate adult car and it's one of the car's features in particular that I am incredibly frightened of. The Sunroof.
It began when I got into the car for the first time. The dealer said to me, 'Go on, try out the moonroof' (I later learned that 'Moonroof' is in fact wanker dialect for 'Sunroof' and the two are in fact the exact same thing)
I paused, nervously, because I hadn't actually driven the car before and was afraid I might destroy something, but then summoning my inner Y.O.L.O, I thrusted my finger at the 'Open' button et voila the roof began to slide open. Then it stopped, stammered for a bit and began to close again, then open again and then close again, the dealer quipped "Oh that's never happened before." I was a nervous wreck.
About a week later I decided bravely to have a go at the sun/moon/star roof again, I nervously pushed the button to open, it slid open and all of a sudden glorious sunshine filled my car with warmth. It was delightful, I was thoroughly enjoying the feel of the warm sun on my head, until 30 minutes or so later when it began to burn, and in fact on having my head inspected later that night, it was confirmed that I had indeed sunburned my scalp.
|I see you lurking there Sun.|
Another two weeks passed before I decided (this time with hat firmly on head) to explore the sunroof once more. It was brilliant, the fresh air, the warmth of the sun, the sounds of birds, it was instantly relaxing. Until I saw it. A truck driver ahead of me, throw a half-finished milkshake out his window. I was instantly plagued with self-doubt, what happens if someone in a truck throws their drink out the window? Will I wear a truckers milkshake? While thinking through a series of very possible but entirely unlikely scenarios in my head the unexpected then happened, a small twig with two leaves attached fell into my lap. From the roof. I freaked out and put my foot on the brakes. The sunroof was closed once again.
Then finally one night this week, while driving and having a (hands-free) phone conversation with a friend, it all became clear. I began my nightly ritual of sitting in 'Park' for 2 hours on the M4 Motorway. It was a beautiful night and I decided to live life on the edge (because clearly that's the sort of guy I am) and opened the roof.
I continued talking to the friend when all of a sudden she said to me 'You sound nervous, what's wrong?' - I hadn't noticed a distinct change in the tone of my voice but then realised it must be because the sunroof was open! "Oh nothing, I just opened my sunroof". "Don't tell me you're scared of your sunroof too?" my friend asked. "I have the exact same fear every time I open mine! It always seems like a nice idea in theory to have one but actually they're fraught with problems," she added. I paused, slightly relieved that I wasn't the only one, and said "We must have Sunroof Anxiety."
So there you have it, that's how I realised I had a problem. I'm taking steps on a daily basis to try and fix that, but have come to the general conclusion that the safest time to open the sunroof for me is at night, when it's not actually sunny. Ohhh, so that's why they call it a moonroof...