A Vida Barco

【1】

【1】

I've been turning left all my life. It's all I ever did, and I've never questioned it. Taking every corner left was normal for me, in fact, I had to. Riding side by side with someone, it brought me a certain thrill that I needed, and the feeling of overtaking someone was what motivated me so much. The feeling of winning satisfied me more than anything else in this world, and the more I won, the more I needed to win. It was like an addiction. The thrill, the intoxicating feeling of winning. The faces of my family when I won. Everything about it made me feel great. It made me to who I was.

But one day, it was gone. I don't know what had happened, but at some point, the thrill got lost. I didn't have it anymore. The motivation was still there, but there was no thrill. I didn't feel the adrenaline anymore. The winning became normal. After a while, it got annoying. All the interviews. Annoying. My family still wore their proud faces, but it didn't give me this great feeling any longer.

Turning left was only the half of what it used to be once. And after some while, the other half got lost, too.
After some while, I lost the feeling of winning at all. Because I didn't win anymore. There wasn't even something to be annoyed about. I wished for being annoyed by journalists, asking me how it felt to win a race. But it didn't happen because I never made it to Victory lane. The only faces I saw were faces telling me how sorry they were. My family was still proud, I knew that, but it didn't give me the good feeling it used to do.

Racing became something exhausting, something stressful - going to another track, every weekend. And the problem was that I lost all fun coming with it. It wasn't fun. It was annoying. Racing became wary because it didn't bring me the thrill, I didn't have the motivation, I didn't have the adrenaline, I didn't have the winning feeling. Instead, I was worn out about it.

And at one day, I even questioned going left. Of course, I'd been questioning it before, like I asked myself why I was doing this every weekend, over and over again. But I just turned left because I had to. Because I had sponsors, I had a team, I had a family expecting me to do exactly that. I had some responsibility and I guess that was what made me turn left every weekend, even though I wasn't enjoying it.

But on this certain day, I even questioned turning left.
It was during the Atlanta race, it's been a rather quiet one.
Again, I had no chance of winning, no motivation, and all I did was sitting in a hot car, getting shaken through and wishing for this race to end. I'd been sweating and my water had been all empty already.

On that day, I realized that even the little bit of fear I still had in me was lost. I'd been scared, still, I guess everybody of us was. But on that day, I wasn't.  What was there to fear? Losing my life? I didn't wish for being dead, but if that was going to happen, I could accept it. I'd just let it happen. I had nothing to live for, really. My life was a monotonous life, I was doing the same thing every week, and I didn't enjoy it. I was worn out by everything, my friends, my family and by the thing I always loved to do.

I asked myself what would happen if I didn't turn left anymore. What if I just turned right next corner? I would wreck. What if I just went straight, without breaking? I would wreck. I wasn't scared of trying out what would happen. It would be a new feeling. I was honestly thinking about going straight. I didn't care about any responsibility. I didn't care about anything at all. Maybe I would die. Wouldn't matter to me. I had a great life. But now it's not that great anymore.

I knew that there are people out there who wish for exactly my life. It did seem pretty glamorous. It was, probably. As a child, I always wanted this. I was working for this. I always thought that if I was a Cup driver, I'd have everything - all I ever wanted. And now I had the thing I've been chasing for all my life. I wasn't happy at all. The thing is, I didn't even know what I wanted instead. Because there is nothing I could want instead. I just knew that my life was worn out. I was tired. Tired of my whole environment. It drove me crazy. All of a sudden, I hated my trailer. I hated the garage. I hated the people. My friends got annoying. I couldn't stand myself and I didn't know why or what I could change.

The only thing I knew was that I hated my life, and I had no idea of how to get out of it.

I turned on my back, staring at the ceiling. It was late. I had a sponsors appointment. And I didn't even care. I knew that I had to, and in the last few months, I barely made it through all my appointments. But I made it because I knew that I had to.

Sooner or later it had to happen. Now it did. Now I was so worn out that I didn't make it to the appointment. I reached out for my phone. I at least had to call my manager. He should know that I wouldn't come.

As I got up, I stared through the window, looking outside. How I hated this view. I didn't want to see it any longer.

My heart started racing while I was shuffling on my shoes. I grabbed my jacket and nearly kicked the door open. I needed to get out of here.

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Thanks for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! Please let me know, and if you didn't, tell me why!