Just One Thing
As I'm pretty sure I expressed here recently, I've been having a lot of trouble with my depression lately. I've been feeling very sorry for myself and quite a bit mopey about my lot in life.
The honest issue seems to be that I'm unhappy with a lot of how I grew up. I don't mean how I was raised or where I lived or how much money I had - I mean, literally, how I grew up. My development as a person.
From the last year of elementary school, I spent the entirety of my pre-college education struggling to make the grade. I was a hard-line C student, and that's not something of which I am proud. I resent the fact that somewhere along the line, I either stopped paying attention and didn't care, or didn't care to pay attention (with the latter, I mean to imply that I might have had a learning disability that was never diagnosed).
This problem has plagued me through my higher education career, to the point where I fear that I know so little of what I should have learned that I'm almost afraid that college was (extracurricular learning aside) a useless venture. My ability to retain information - or at the very least, my ability to recall information - is atrocious. I feel as though when I read a book or sit through a lecture, my mind operates as a pocket calculator - the memory flushes clean upon shutting down.
My problem is one that goes deeper than simply being an inconvenience - it has become a hindrance in my social development. A great deal of my anxieties and stresses come from my inability to see beyond my own failures - failures of the mind, frequently. A lot of times, I just don't get things. A lot of times, I just can't seem to make an intelligent point - because I can't recall information that would help me in debate. I can't formulate the precise means to achieve goals. And I'm ashamed of my inability to do so. It makes me feel inferior. It makes me feel like a fool.
And it certainly doesn't help that, growing up, I was always treated by my friends as the kid who was just a bit dumber than everyone else. Because I certainly wasn't dumb - I just didn't seem to know how to prove I was as smart as they were.
A lot of people nowadays argue that intelligence can't be measured in points or scores. Intelligence reaches across a broad spectrum of abilities and tasks. Some people are smarter when it comes to numbers and statistics. Some are better at rhythm and pattern. Some can understand linguistics like they were born to do it. Some people are great at drawing or painting. Some understand tone and musical composition better than most. And some know how to use language or imagery to tell compelling stories.
Intelligence is more than recalling dates, names or formulas.
I may not be able to explain supply and demand, but I'm good at a few things. The thing I'm most proud of is an ability that I feel I inherited from my family - the ability to make people laugh and cry with my words. I'm a storyteller at my core, and I think I do it better than most.
But that doesn't change the fact that some days, I just wish I were a little bit smarter.
The honest issue seems to be that I'm unhappy with a lot of how I grew up. I don't mean how I was raised or where I lived or how much money I had - I mean, literally, how I grew up. My development as a person.
From the last year of elementary school, I spent the entirety of my pre-college education struggling to make the grade. I was a hard-line C student, and that's not something of which I am proud. I resent the fact that somewhere along the line, I either stopped paying attention and didn't care, or didn't care to pay attention (with the latter, I mean to imply that I might have had a learning disability that was never diagnosed).
This problem has plagued me through my higher education career, to the point where I fear that I know so little of what I should have learned that I'm almost afraid that college was (extracurricular learning aside) a useless venture. My ability to retain information - or at the very least, my ability to recall information - is atrocious. I feel as though when I read a book or sit through a lecture, my mind operates as a pocket calculator - the memory flushes clean upon shutting down.
My problem is one that goes deeper than simply being an inconvenience - it has become a hindrance in my social development. A great deal of my anxieties and stresses come from my inability to see beyond my own failures - failures of the mind, frequently. A lot of times, I just don't get things. A lot of times, I just can't seem to make an intelligent point - because I can't recall information that would help me in debate. I can't formulate the precise means to achieve goals. And I'm ashamed of my inability to do so. It makes me feel inferior. It makes me feel like a fool.
And it certainly doesn't help that, growing up, I was always treated by my friends as the kid who was just a bit dumber than everyone else. Because I certainly wasn't dumb - I just didn't seem to know how to prove I was as smart as they were.
A lot of people nowadays argue that intelligence can't be measured in points or scores. Intelligence reaches across a broad spectrum of abilities and tasks. Some people are smarter when it comes to numbers and statistics. Some are better at rhythm and pattern. Some can understand linguistics like they were born to do it. Some people are great at drawing or painting. Some understand tone and musical composition better than most. And some know how to use language or imagery to tell compelling stories.
Intelligence is more than recalling dates, names or formulas.
I may not be able to explain supply and demand, but I'm good at a few things. The thing I'm most proud of is an ability that I feel I inherited from my family - the ability to make people laugh and cry with my words. I'm a storyteller at my core, and I think I do it better than most.
But that doesn't change the fact that some days, I just wish I were a little bit smarter.
posted by Dave at 4:24:00 AM
2 Comments:
you may not have the memory of some folks, but you have many talents that I envy you for greatly, many artistic talents that myself and many others would envy. Coming Soon, Dan at Dave's Apt. -Dan
People who suffer from depression are often thought of as being wise, people who are beyond their years. I agree honestly. Our tendency to reflect on things seems to allow us to put things in perspective...except when it comes to judging ourselves. Perhaps you may not have been as knowledgable in certain things as some people you knew...but you are gifted with a kind of brillance that few have and fewer understand.
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