Borealis
Active member
- First Name
- Jude
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2021
- Threads
- 2
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- 38
- Reaction score
- 85
- Location
- Potomac, MD
- Vehicles
- 911, MYP & Cybertruck
- Thread starter
- #1
Driving Withdrawal: My Life After 48 Hours of Tesla Full Self Driving
It all started innocently enough: I activated Tesla’s Full Self Driving (FSD) mode for what I thought would be a quick test run. Fast forward 48 hours, and now I’m having what can only be described as driving withdrawal symptoms. Turns out, when you let the car do all the work, your brain forgets what it means to be a driver.
Day 1: The Honeymoon Phase
At first, it was glorious. No more steering wheel. No more brake or gas pedals. I kicked back, streamed some music, and watched in awe as my car handled every stop sign, traffic light, and lane change with the precision of a machine. I even started thinking, “This is it. I’ve transcended driving. I’m the future.”
Little did I know, the withdrawal symptoms were already creeping in.
Day 2: Strange Side Effects Begin
By the end of day two, things started getting weird. I found myself reaching for an imaginary steering wheel during Zoom calls. When walking to the kitchen, I slowed down at corners, waiting for a lane change signal that never came. I tried to parallel park in my own driveway—while on foot.
That evening, I walked past my neighbor’s car and reflexively yelled, “Autopilot, engage!” Spoiler: it did not.
The 48-Hour Mark: Full-Blown Withdrawal
The real kicker came at hour 48. I was riding as a passenger (naturally, because who drives anymore?) when I caught myself yelling at a pedestrian to “maintain lane discipline.” I couldn’t even blame traffic anymore, because the car was handling that like a pro. It was me that was out of sync.
Later, I found myself signaling to take a sharp left… out of bed.
How Did It Come to This?
You see, there’s something about giving up control of the car that changes you. At first, you revel in the freedom of it all: “Look, Ma! No hands!” But then, slowly, your inner driver starts itching. That muscle memory doesn’t just fade away. You crave the feel of a turn signal lever, the satisfaction of executing a perfect parallel park, the adrenaline of beating a yellow light (though Tesla doesn’t approve of that, apparently).
Without that, what are you? Just a passenger in life—or worse, a backseat driver to your own car.
What’s Next?
I’ve learned a lot in my 48 hours of self-driving zen. Mainly, I’ve learned that while I love the convenience, I may need a hobby to replace driving. Or, at the very least, I need to start signaling less when I get up from chairs.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. Tesla’s FSD is a marvel, and the future is bright. But next time, I’ll make sure to sprinkle in a little manual driving to avoid those awkward moments when you try to ‘autopilot’ your way through life.
Until then, if you see me on the sidewalk, please don’t ask why I’m giving my blender turn-by-turn directions.
It all started innocently enough: I activated Tesla’s Full Self Driving (FSD) mode for what I thought would be a quick test run. Fast forward 48 hours, and now I’m having what can only be described as driving withdrawal symptoms. Turns out, when you let the car do all the work, your brain forgets what it means to be a driver.
Day 1: The Honeymoon Phase
At first, it was glorious. No more steering wheel. No more brake or gas pedals. I kicked back, streamed some music, and watched in awe as my car handled every stop sign, traffic light, and lane change with the precision of a machine. I even started thinking, “This is it. I’ve transcended driving. I’m the future.”
Little did I know, the withdrawal symptoms were already creeping in.
Day 2: Strange Side Effects Begin
By the end of day two, things started getting weird. I found myself reaching for an imaginary steering wheel during Zoom calls. When walking to the kitchen, I slowed down at corners, waiting for a lane change signal that never came. I tried to parallel park in my own driveway—while on foot.
That evening, I walked past my neighbor’s car and reflexively yelled, “Autopilot, engage!” Spoiler: it did not.
The 48-Hour Mark: Full-Blown Withdrawal
The real kicker came at hour 48. I was riding as a passenger (naturally, because who drives anymore?) when I caught myself yelling at a pedestrian to “maintain lane discipline.” I couldn’t even blame traffic anymore, because the car was handling that like a pro. It was me that was out of sync.
Later, I found myself signaling to take a sharp left… out of bed.
How Did It Come to This?
You see, there’s something about giving up control of the car that changes you. At first, you revel in the freedom of it all: “Look, Ma! No hands!” But then, slowly, your inner driver starts itching. That muscle memory doesn’t just fade away. You crave the feel of a turn signal lever, the satisfaction of executing a perfect parallel park, the adrenaline of beating a yellow light (though Tesla doesn’t approve of that, apparently).
Without that, what are you? Just a passenger in life—or worse, a backseat driver to your own car.
What’s Next?
I’ve learned a lot in my 48 hours of self-driving zen. Mainly, I’ve learned that while I love the convenience, I may need a hobby to replace driving. Or, at the very least, I need to start signaling less when I get up from chairs.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. Tesla’s FSD is a marvel, and the future is bright. But next time, I’ll make sure to sprinkle in a little manual driving to avoid those awkward moments when you try to ‘autopilot’ your way through life.
Until then, if you see me on the sidewalk, please don’t ask why I’m giving my blender turn-by-turn directions.
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