let me count the ways

i've never been a math-alete. i can scrape by in percentages, but don't ask about fractions or ratios or *shudder* geometry. word problems were continually the bane of my existence, during school. for as many years as i've been employed, however, i've been put in situations where i am forced to do math, mainly bookkeeping, or in the case of my present job, figuring out where numbers come from or where they went.

in some ways i look at this as a mystery, waiting to be solved, and that makes it easier to swallow. however i'm still jaded about word problems. for instance:

question: A pool is filling with water at the rate of 1/2 gallon per minute. It is emptying at one gallon an hour. How long until the pool is filled?

answer: PLUG THE FRICKING LEAK.

i get disgruntled, quickly.

this week has been a reminder of how far i have come, mathematically speaking. in my new position i just do a lot of checking off of lists, etc, versus my old position, where i assisted clients with their taxes and deductions and why something was not figuring correctly. at any rate, people still come to me for help with figuring out things that they cannot figure themselves. and not to toot my own horn, but usually i can solve them.

in fact, at one point, someone actually said that i was LOGICAL.

huh? me, logical? not usually! then again, perhaps i am more logical than i think, but less so than say, spock.

i think the problem i usually have with math is that i hare off on a different topic before i can complete the current function. therefore when i come back to it, i don't know what i just did, and voila! i'm lost.

i don't know what the difference is at work, where suddenly i become the Inspector Poirot of Numerical Crap.

it does give me pause.

why? because there are many, many things that i never thought i could do, but i have done. i remember when i was first learning to drive, and i had a moment of hesitation about stepping on the gas pedal. in fact i was such a cautious driver that i did not think i would ever drive in a big city.

scoot fifteen years down the line, and i love driving in the cities. driving itself is second nature.

and the same thing is true when i consider math.

i don't think that i will ever overcome my fear of math, my loathing for imaginary numbers. (if they are imaginary, does that mean that i can imagine that they're simply gone? hm?) i think that, like many other things, i have become accustomed to dealing with it.

i cannot count the number of things that i have encountered with fear, and now live with on a daily basis. but if i think of those things, even just a few, it makes me feel strong enough to handle the next one, or just continue to live with the fears i do have.

my fear of math, in the scheme of things, is small. i have much greater fears--losing loved ones, for example--but i have lost loved ones, and i know that life goes on, whether i will it or no.

when i was a young child and my parents yelled at me, i would do one of two things: hide in the back corner of my closet, or any dark small space, or go outside and run over to the park, and pretend that i was elsewhere on the planet.

when i was in my teens, my dad used to get frustrated with my math skills, or lack thereof. he would rail and shout at me, until he gave up and walked away. my reaction was generally to sit and try not to cry, because then i'd hear that wonderful phrase: "stop crying or i'll give you something to cry about." when he finally would storm off, i would give in and sniffle through the math problems myself, and then content myself with walking into the woods behind our house, alone, and trying to make the feelings go away.

it's something i carried, along with all those basic habits you pick up as a kid. when something happens that makes me want to cry, my first instinct is to run off somewhere and curl up, that if i make myself a small enough target, i will be forgotten and will forget.

it's something that i have to face, every day. my mother always said you have to pick your battles. i understand now that it's not only the battles you have with other people; more important are the battles we wage against our selves.

the truth of the matter is understanding that there really is no battle, just a simple question to be asked of your self. the question varies, as will your answer. it is the pause that is important, the pause where you question your behavior or action or thought, and hold it up and consider it, no matter how briefly. my therapist calls this "coginitive therapy."

whatever you call it, it does slow down the world a little. the questions i pose to myself are my own inner negotiator, feeling out reactions.

i cannot count the number of times that i have filed my nails; nor can i count the number of fears that i have come to live with, the number of times i have fought to a truce with my own thought process.

but if i think about it in the smallest of ways--my hidden math abilities, say--then it becomes more realistic, for everything else i face.