A Journey of One

Mess of a Bristol Race

This race... What a mess. Everything was just a mess. Now I remember why I hate going to Bristol. Something always goes wrong.

We ended up a lap down but placed 10th overall. It's not a bad thing, but I wish I could've done better. I'm supposed to do better. This is the playoffs, for crying out loud, you have to give it your all. We have everything to lose at this point and need to do better.

What was even worse was that I had a panic attack on pit road. You heard me correctly. The self-doubt was slowly creeping in, and it just slammed me all at once. I didn't know what to do but just froze up. Everything I didn't want to hear was coming back, and I felt helpless.

Part of it was for Ryan. I felt terrible for him. His luck has been horrible these past few races as something always seems to go wrong. I want my teammates with me through this, or I just feel alone. My self-doubt voices itself at the sight of this.

you should have helped him in those races

You should take his place; you weren't gonna win anyway.

Look at all those people judging you.

Are you really a Future 3 Member? Someone with that status is supposed to be better than this.

You disappointed everyone...

I just froze on the spot, slowly lowering myself to the ground as I gripped my chest. It felt tight like I couldn't breathe. Everything just felt hot and sweaty, and I felt like I was losing my mind. My view got blurry with the tears I was trying to hold in. I heard people trying to get my attention, but I couldn't respond. I just sat there wanting to hide from the world.

Officials and some crew members tried to come and help me, but it wasn't working.

Until they got Jimmie.

Just by hearing his voice, I felt myself coming back. He grabbed my hands to help ground myself correctly and at least get my breathing stable. He pulled me towards him as I immediately wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed into his fire suit. Even in that position, I wanted to hide. I knew NBC was gonna have coverage on this in some way, shape, or form.

Jimmie slowly stood me up as he placed my hat on top of my head to hide my face. The next thing I know, I'm on my bed in my motorhome with a cold pack on my neck to help ease my muscles. He sat next to me as he wrung his hand through my hair. It was a coping method of some kind. Thank goodness I had Ray with me to help pack my stuff. She is always so good to me.

She suggested that I ride home with Jimmie instead, so I would some type of comfort. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I honestly felt so embarrassed, and I was afraid to face people. Going home with him would help.

After a quick shower, I hopped into Jimmie's car, and we got off to North Carolina. The ride was quiet most of the time, just him making sure I was okay. My phone was going off like crazy because of what happened, but I just ignored it. I wasn't in the mood. I ended up getting in at about 2:30 am, immediately greeted by Dale and Amy. We all shuffled into a group hug as they looked over me.

At that moment, I just drained. Physically and emotionally drained.

"Guys, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen." I said honestly.

Dale gave me a small smile as he patted my head. "It's okay. It happens you shouldn't be ashamed. I'm just happy you're home." But I should feel ashamed. I'm supposed to be the tough Hunter Lee, the one who is supposed to walk off. The one who is supposed to represent a whole nation of people. The one is supposed to be on top because of how well she stands out from the others.

"I'm gonna go to bed if that's okay?" I asked. I wished I would fall asleep and not think about the race.

"Yeah, gets some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." Dale goes to hug me and kiss the top of my head. Amy does the same, and I walk out of the living room, up to my room.

As soon as I closed the door, I slid down on my back and sat on the floor. I was trying to process everything that happened over the past couple of hours. The most important question was, why did I let my guard down??

Usually, if I have a panic or anxiety attack, I excuse myself to use the bathroom but act like I'm okay. I'm an expert at hiding in so, why did this one seep through? It doesn't make sense.

I got up from the floor and proceeded to change into my pj's. It was nothing much, just a t-shirt with some boxers. Yeah, I wear boxers, deal with it. I flopped into bed, hoping I would just fall asleep, but my mind had other plans. It just decided to keep running. Running to the thoughts that I wish I wouldn't have to deal with tonight.

Who am I kidding?

Ever since the accident, they've always been on my mind. Nothing has been the same since then. Actually, I think it goes further back than that—probably 15 years.

I just started at the wall, waiting for myself to get tired. Let's just say I took one glance at the clock before my eyes closed.

It was at 4am.

Yeah I know. I was supposed to post this after the Bristol race and then school happened. Some of these stories have connections to them so I'll probably be paying a little tag with to indicate when the story happened. Hopefully you enjoy and I'll see you in the next one.