Freedom

Today being the first Monday of our week-long Thanksgiving vacation (or, in more PC terms, "fall break"), I decided it would be the perfect chance to try riding my bike on campus with minimal panic attack possibilities. You see, my fears of cycling on campus are two-fold: I am not only afraid of being injured by a motor vehicle but also of pissing off people. I've always thought the latter was the stronger fear in me, and attributed this fear to whatever personality disorder I've decided I have for the week. Yet when I stepped out of my building hesitantly clutching my bike between my knees and taking as much time as possible adjusting my helmet straps, I saw a van, an SUV, and a truck go by on neighboring streets, and suddenly realized that my fear of being maimed or killed was probably actually stronger. Still, I had given myself a small task: ride to Altgeld Hall to mail my electricity payment, then ride to my building's management site to drop off my rent money, so I soldiered on, got on the road, and found the whole trip exhilarating! I tried my best to obey the rules of the road, though I occasionally went on the sidewalk in the more dangerous areas (e.g. bus stops), attempting to be mindful of pedestrians. There wasn't much traffic, as was to be expected, and I don't think I actually pissed off anyone. The most annoying parts of the trip were trying to remember my combination (I'd brought it with me, and kept opening it up, then putting it away and trying to remember it as I fiddled with the lock over and over.... High school really was a long time ago!) to my bike lock, having to stop for my reflector, which had fallen off on the way home, and holding open the various doors I have to traverse in order to get to my apartment (I keep my bike in my living room.).
Another nice thing about riding my bike on campus was that the quad was practically bare, and I didn't feel bad about riding on it for part of the way--When I was a freshman at U of I, there were signs up to warn you that bike riding was not allowed on the quad, but people rarely paid attention to them, and, to my knowledge, they're all gone.
I think part of the reason I wanted to take my bike out of my apartment was guilt; I'd had my parents bring my bike here earlier in the semester, and I didn't want their efforts to be for naught. But I also think that this was a major self-confidence booster, and the endorphins are nothing to sneeze at; although I wasn't riding for very long, I definitely got a high from being able to get on my bike and go, actually coming to a complete stop at stop signs (I hate when people don't do this), and feeling the wind rush against me as I pushed along the sides of the roads and tried to stay out of people's way.
Before setting off on my expedition, I was writing checks, and I suddenly realized that I'm not the helpless person I sometimes imagine myself to be. I can write checks correctly. I get myself to pay my bills on time, I just cleaned (parts of) my apartment and did several loads of laundry. Why do I sometimes feel like I'm incapable of doing simple chores, and only realize later that I can do them, and much more. I have a college degree and I'm shooting for another one. Why do I get this brain freeze that doesn't allow me to do basic math sometimes, or brings me into a dissociative state in which I don't know who or what I am, and believe that I can't do anything of substance? Writing the check, walking through my clean(er) apartment, going through my closet full of clothes that are actually hung on hangers properly and somewhat organized by garment type, and going to pay my bills, riding that bike, all gave me a sort of high and realization that I'm an adult and can do things for myself. I think part of the hesitance to accept my adulthood stems from the fact that I never had to do much for myself when I was growing up. My parents almost always picked me up from school, so I was never a latchkey kid. My only regular chore in the house was to set the table with my sister; I didn't have to make my bed, and rarely was asked to mow the lawn or shovel snow (although these requests came more and more frequently as I got older!). I can probably count the number of times that I had to wash dishes on one hand. Every once in a while I'd get to run the vacuum cleaner, which I always enjoyed. Although I appreciate that my parents did a lot for me as a kid (and I appreciate that they still let me stay with them when I'm on vacation, let me talk to them for hours on the phone, and help me out with money), I think part of me never thought I was capable of doing these things, and still sometimes believes that I can't do them, that I'm incapable of an adult life. This insecurity gets in the way of living my life fully, but I realize that, over the years, I've become more and more outgoing in doing things I want to do, and doing things for myself. Taking my bike out gave me this wonderful sense of being and freedom that I can't describe. I've never gone out on my bike without first telling a family member that I was leaving on my bike, and, yes, I have my helmet, and, yes, I have a key to the house. Yes, I'll be careful. No, I won't talk to strangers. I'm 23 and I'm finally feeling like an adult, and it's wonderful!