At school there were some lessons that put fear into me. That made me want to curl into a ball or run away from the world. My problem was that I always wanted to succeed in class. I worked hard and, for the most part, did well. But there were always some classes that I didn’t perform in.
Maybe it was a personality clash with the teacher, maybe it was just my brain wasn’t wired to perform well in the particular subject. Whatever the reason it led to ‘the fear’. A feeling that no matter what I did I was destined to fail.
I always did the homework. I always read the textbooks. I always tried hard in class. None of it mattered. When the timetable came round to that subject my head would ache, my stomach would churn, my brain and my mouth would stop communicating.
I’d look bewildered as a particular theme was explored or the teacher would ask questions and I’d get the answer wrong; even when somewhere in my memory was the right answer.
When a test approached, or a particularly tricky piece of homework needed completing, I would stress for days. Unable to function rationally and put the workload into proportion.
Since leaving school it’s rare I feel that way. When it does happen it is alway work related, and it’s always a sign that things are not going in the right direction.
It’s happening now. That feeling of impending failure without reprieve. At school there was no way of avoiding the timetable. In the adult world responsibilities mean we temper our desire to run away, and try to battle on.
Sometimes though the battle is doomed. Once again I’m failing Geography.
Posted: 7 January, 2013