Losing It
I have always been the type of person that does (or at least attempts), periodic checks on their sanity. Perhaps it's because I am pretty forthright and so there is some need to temper what is likely to come out of my mouth. I think another reason is that it seems like most of the people I know personally who have been lecturers for any length of time just seem a little "off".
This is in no way an indictment of them – a fair number of them are dear to my heart. However, it does seem that the stress of talking to large groups of people or the role of mentor or something else does seem to produce some odd ducks. Perhaps we are already odd and just drawn to the profession? I guess it’s something to think about.
Anyway, I do sometimes review my words or actions in an effort to discern if there appears to be some cause for alarm. Am I becoming even more of an odd duck? Am I joining the flock of strange and leaving the norm behind?
Usually I can’t spot any red flags waving. But perhaps, by the time you have become truly odd, you are no longer capable of recognizing your behaviour as such.
I remember one of my uncles saying that he was going to say his times tables every morning without fail as he grew older and when he started forgetting some of the answers, he would know that old age had appeared. My Dad interjected that he would just forget to say them one day. My thoughts were that he would just fail to recognize wrong answers “4 x 4 is 20, 4 x 5 is 25 ….”.
This is all by way of saying that I think I have finally recognized some aberrant behaviours in myself. For some reason, I can’t seem to stop telling people that I am having a miscarriage. And I don’t stop there – I generally tell them this is miscarriage number 5. Perhaps it’s something about being able to present all the fingers on one hand with a flourish as I say “5”.
I think I’m okay so far – it’s not like I announced it to my class (although they all looked askance as I downed a litre of water during class yesterday in preparation for the final ultrasound). However, if a colleague or friend asks me how the term is going they will get some breezy answer like “well, not too bad except for going through miscarriage number 5 (insert flourish of hand)”.
So maybe some of us do know when we’re losing it (I had always kind of hoped that I wouldn’t).
DinoD
I have always been the type of person that does (or at least attempts), periodic checks on their sanity. Perhaps it's because I am pretty forthright and so there is some need to temper what is likely to come out of my mouth. I think another reason is that it seems like most of the people I know personally who have been lecturers for any length of time just seem a little "off".
This is in no way an indictment of them – a fair number of them are dear to my heart. However, it does seem that the stress of talking to large groups of people or the role of mentor or something else does seem to produce some odd ducks. Perhaps we are already odd and just drawn to the profession? I guess it’s something to think about.
Anyway, I do sometimes review my words or actions in an effort to discern if there appears to be some cause for alarm. Am I becoming even more of an odd duck? Am I joining the flock of strange and leaving the norm behind?
Usually I can’t spot any red flags waving. But perhaps, by the time you have become truly odd, you are no longer capable of recognizing your behaviour as such.
I remember one of my uncles saying that he was going to say his times tables every morning without fail as he grew older and when he started forgetting some of the answers, he would know that old age had appeared. My Dad interjected that he would just forget to say them one day. My thoughts were that he would just fail to recognize wrong answers “4 x 4 is 20, 4 x 5 is 25 ….”.
This is all by way of saying that I think I have finally recognized some aberrant behaviours in myself. For some reason, I can’t seem to stop telling people that I am having a miscarriage. And I don’t stop there – I generally tell them this is miscarriage number 5. Perhaps it’s something about being able to present all the fingers on one hand with a flourish as I say “5”.
I think I’m okay so far – it’s not like I announced it to my class (although they all looked askance as I downed a litre of water during class yesterday in preparation for the final ultrasound). However, if a colleague or friend asks me how the term is going they will get some breezy answer like “well, not too bad except for going through miscarriage number 5 (insert flourish of hand)”.
So maybe some of us do know when we’re losing it (I had always kind of hoped that I wouldn’t).
DinoD
posted by DinosaurD at 9:12 AM
4 Comments:
Is there anyway to include "the finger" during a flourish of the hand as a way to symbolize your true feelings without having to say them?
Who is to say what is normal and what is off? Whatever you may be must make me the same.
I don't know that it's a matter of you losing it. Miscarriages are invisible agonies we go through without most people ever knowing it. When your losses start to accumulate, silently experiencing that agony without any outward signs that you need care, attention - even a kind word - becomes really difficult. You're dying inside and you need someone to know that you're not okay even if you look perfectly fine.
I say the most outrageous things about my dead baby sometimes and always wonder why the hell I do it, until I remember that if he was here with me I wouldn't have to say anything at all.
(((((((HUGS)))))))
If you think you're crazy you're probably not, crazy people don't have any idea. I think the telling is part of the grieving and the healing, if the people around you can't take it, oh well.
You mean it's NOT normal to tell people about our reproductive histories? Boy... no wonder I'm not getting invited to any dinner parties.
Here's hoping that u/s is definitive. Know I'm praying for you and also hoping that those prayers are giving your docs a swift kick to the pants.
Post a Comment
<< Home