I have a problem: I've started talking to myself. Okay, it's been a long time coming. But as I was walking through the theology library today, I noticed I started voicing aloud the titles of the journals along the wall. "Ministry of..." I mumbled to myself as I walked along. As I sat in the corral in a starkly quiet room, I said--not just in my head, but aloud, "Oh God" or "I hate...myself, no wait--" or sometimes I will just insert random people's names.
Why do I do this? Am I going crazy? Yes, maybe a little. More likely it's because I'm replaying all of the cringeworthy moments in my head, thinking about dumb things I've said or have been said to me, and feeling badly about myself. Freud tells us we relive our past/trauma through repetition; I just relive humiliating snapshots of my life, and then to cope with it, my mouth seems to open involuntarily.
E.g., Two weeks ago, I was rushing to open the door for my wheelchaired classmate, and I tripped on the stairs--in front of everyone in the bar (and I was stone cold sober--not one drop of liquor had touched my lips), and I lose my shoe, and I abandon my shoe to go grab the door for the kid in the wheelchair. Then another classmate comes right behind me and hands me my shoe. As I was doing work in the library, I held my hands to my face and said, "Oh God! I hate--" and then I had a moment of reliving that embarrassment, and then I had a new moment of embarrassment because there were a couple of people in the library and they all probably heard me talk to myself.
It's the verbal equivalent of clenching my teeth at night. Which I do. Which is why my dentist tells me I have so many cavities--I'm grinding my teeth down to nothing.
Annie, while you search for a solution for both your smoke alarm and your tangled necklaces, if anyone can offer a remedy for this annoying verbal tic--maybe I have Tourette's? There's this literary critic named Eve Sedgwick, and she talks about how a writer like Henry James--who, if you've ever read him, rambles on, and on, and ON as he describes one moment that in real time is only 10 seconds long--is kind of anally retentive--he hoards all of these wasteful bits that get back-loaded up within him (get it?). I in no way mean I'm anywhere on the same playing field as James (have you read his stuff? Economy does not a James novel make), but this "anal" reading of literature certainly gave me something to think about.
Well, off to NY Wed morn. Am trying to pack in all of my work before I leave, so this may (or may not) be my last post before T-day.
Toodles!
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i have a solution. try not to care as much what other people think. i know, i know, easier said than done. but you shouldnt have to beat yourself up for small comments made on the fly. i forgot to mention this before, but when we were at the opera, there were people sitting in front of us playing with their cellphones, opening them, over and over again, so that we were terribly distracted by the light. after clapping in the middle of a scene, i leaned over and yelled, "COULD YOU PLEASE STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR CELLPHONE?". sure i was momentarily embarassed. but then i got over it. someone needed to say it, right?! it was r.u.d.e. so the next time you trip over trying to open the door, who cares. at least you were trying to help, albeit clumsily. (the talking outloud in the library thing though, youve got to tame. no one likes that kid).
xo
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