4. Échec

Je choisis ce mot de mon 100 words challenge post pour écrire un petit quelque chose.

C’est en vivant un échec qu’on apprend le plus. On voit ce qu’on pourrait faire différemment. Évidemment, si on répète toujours la même chose et qu’on apprend pas de ces échecs, qu’ils ne sont pas intégrés, eh bien…on répète, on répète et on répète encore.

J’ai vécu ma part d’échecs au travail, en amour, en famille…mais, éventuellement, j’ai réalisé qu’il y avait des choses qui ne marchaient pas et j’ai décidé de regarder ça de près et de changer.

Puis, je suis arrivée à être mieux avec moi-même, avec les solutions que j’ai trouvé, avec la vie. Je peux dire que mes échecs m’ont rendue heureuse !!

Je me souhaite la même chose pour 2010 !

Second Psych homework done

It’s done ! I have sent it to the instructor. I have heart palpitations, cold hands and a feeling like I’m on a bipolar high. I feel like cords inside of me are tight and I could scream any moment. My second psychology homework !

It is a huge deal to me because I love learning but after getting my diploma in 1998, I just couldn’t go back to school. I died a little inside at the thought of it. I know we don’t have to go to school to learn but I wanted to learn about things I couldn’t by myself. The challenge of passing the class is a motivation to keep going when I feel comatose. Comatose from the information overload I’m getting.

I hesitated for years and I even went to see a school councilor. I was tested, we talked. It appears I should be in science ! That’s where you see how your role in a family determines your futures sometimes…my family thought of me as an intellectual and artist. I hated math because my mom had hated it too and thought it was hard. So I took the basic classes in high school and took the optional classes of drama, arts and beauty classes. No physics, advanced math or chemistry.

I went to college in arts before deciding I wanted to be a library technician. But my tests showed I could have easily gone into science in college (if I had done the prerequisite). And what appealed to me was microbiology like my mom used to do. She’s retired and…a volunteer guide in a museum. Isn’t it ironic ? She’s the arty type.

I didn’t want to go in psychology or sexology because I felt it was my pattern of wanting to classify everything, explain everything. I guess I’m not far off as a lib tech because everything in its place, a place for everything. In psychology or sexology, an explanation for everything, everything has an explication whatever the theory is. But I chose psych because I would have to ditch my job to go back to school if I want to go in science. And I can do psych classes in my home instead of at the university.

So I finally chose. I registered at a school that offers only home classes and I chose a short program in personality psychology. I love it. I take only one class at a time or I wouldn’t have time to go to the gym, work, write, read, cook etc. I have lots of free time because the boyfriend goes to night school too.

I had 90% in my first homework. I hope I get a good mark on the one I sent yesterday. I’m scared as hell to discover I didn’t understand a thing and that I’m way off in my understanding of phenomenology and theories based on learning. I’m scared to discover I’m even better than I thought. I want to exceed my expectations. I want to be the best. But I can’t compare myself, alone in my kitchen. I just really want to be great.

I guess that’s why I chose phenomenology as a theory. Carl Rogers said that humans strive for self-actualization. I’m the best example there is.

Juillet 1986 : J’ai enfin appris à nager

My little sister was two years-old and wore swim aids and so did I at twelve years-old. I was embarrassed but I was so scared of water…Of course the Duchess already knew how to swim and dive, she even took classes. Ungh.

Sometimes I wonder if I had autism or something, I learned everything way later than other kids. Skating, biking, swimming, reading, writing, counting…One day it just started to unblock and slowly but regularly something would start to pop into place. It was a one shot deal. One day I wouldn’t be able to and the next I could.

So, back to swimming.

It was hot. We didn’t have a swimming pool but we could go to Estelle’s. Everyone had been trying to show me how to swim for years. Nada. There was maybe a billion kids in the pool and I was there with my blue one piece-suit, my swim aids and a lightly panicked expression on the side of the pool. I was gripping the side while the kids were jumping, swimming, doing the mermaid and all those neat things they can do.

As usual, I did my thing while no one looked. I took one swim aid off. I just did a couple of strokes doggie-style. Wasn’t too bad. Checked around that noone was looking. Took the other off and gulped a couple of gallons of water, couldn’t find the bottom, panicked a bit, didn’t say a word, looked around, okay. Tried the doggie again. My feet didn’t really lift but they didn’t touch the bottom either so it counted. So I swam around the pool until someone noticed and di a big fuss.

I blushed, almost cried, but was proud of myself. Estelle who was checking everyone from the patio had already called my maman.

Mom came at Estelle’s to watch me swim a bit. She told me she had said to everyone not to bother me, leave me alone and stop teasing me, I would do it when I was ready. She was very proud of me.

I’m still afraid of the water but not pools. I could faint watching a lake or walking on ice. But I know how to swiiimmm !!!

1982 : Je sais enfin faire du vélo

After years of being teased and coaxed I finally got on a bike and rode it without help, by myself. I was seven years-old, late again.

My Sister was already on a bike and I was still with trainer wheels. I couldn’t do anything right the first time, everything took so much time and effort. And the more people tried to help, the worse it was. I was afraid of everything, and it seemed like my family’s expectations were the worse.

So One night, Denis, my mother’s friend, brought his old bike with a banana seat. Said it wasn’t new but he would give it to me if I wanted it, I could try it. While everyone was inside and My Sister was doing her numero de charme, the street was quiet and no one was around, I just started pedalling. A great push and just couldn’ t stop. I finally felt free !!

My heart was beating hard, my eyes were dry and my hands were sweaty, I was tense but freeeee !!!

I rode and rode…in circles. Our street is a terrasse, it’s a big round and I didn’t have permission to get out. Anyway, I didn’t know how to brake ! What if a car arrived ? What if I fell ? So I continued and I was giddy.

But I couldn’t wait to tell them I could ! I could !!

So I just bumped in a car parked in our driveway, fell and ran to tell the adults. They didn’t believe me. They never did. So I showed them. It wasn’t the same, I had trouble.

But I knew I could !