Diddle der der, Diddle der der, Diddle der der Dee

A while ago, I wrote that being woken by a telephone makes me nervous. Between 2001 and 2005 a telephone ringing at unsocial hours was almost certainly a call from the control room of the Hermes particle-physics experiment, saying that something was wrong with a souped-up Stern-Gerlach experiment, and that I should stop sleeping and start fixing it. At first it was an exciting challenge, as Stern-Gerlach experiments are fun things. But fun things can become tiresome if you're forced to do them in the middle of a good night's sleep, and by 2005 I was exhausted, nervous, and depressed. The phone calls weren't the only reason, but they didn't help. I dreaded the sound of the phone. I knew that a call would lead to stress, meetings and being made to feel useless. I imagined destroying the phone with a blunt object, or sinking it deep into the river Elbe, weighed down with a couple of stones, and hearing the ringtone fade away...

Now logically, my fear of a ringing phone should have ended by 2006. Nobody rang me any more about Stern-Gerlach devices, and I knew this, but if my sleep was disturbed by a phone ringing, I woke up feeling panicky and nervous. This may or may not have something to do with Pavlov's dogs.

This week I have been trying to change my thought process. When my phone rings I say to myself, "I hope it is a friend wanting to do something, which will be good. I will be hopeful and answer the phone". This morning I was woken by my phone ringing. For two seconds I felt sad and negative, and a little nervous. The move to grab the phone was a slightly panicky motion. I then remembered to say that it would probably be a friend, and felt a little better. It was a friend, and there was no need to feel nervous.

Perceptions

I was feeling ever-so-slightly depressed at the weekend. I wasn't unhappy, but was a little tired and dispirited, and most of all I was feeling inadequate.

So when I went juggling in the park on Sunday morning I had the feeling that I wasn't much good at it. The throws that should have gone straight up in the air went a bit to the side, and the crossed throws looked ragged. I could do a trick with my right hand well, but with the left hand it looked all wrong. All in all I seemed to spend much of the time picking up dropped balls.

There were a few kids out with their mum and dad to fly a kite. They were amazed how good I was, and couldn't believe their luck that someone so unbelievably good was juggling in front of them. When the kite was successfully launched (launching a kite is so much more fun than flying it), they turned their hands to juggling two balls. One of them was really good and is well on his way to juggling three balls. This success cheered me, and I realised that I can juggle enough balls to start a minor workshop.

Young children give the best feedback, as they are so bad at fake politeness, lying or hiding their feelings. I know there are other things in which I'm not as useless as I think I am, but sometimes I don't know exactly what they are. Maybe I should be less scared at overestimating myself. What's the worst that can happen?

Profile Change

About two years ago, when I started this blog, I wrote in my profile that I was "bitter, pessimistic, depressive, downhearted and confused". I have started a course of psychotherapy and am trying to change all of these things. I still sometimes feel this way, but I'm no longer happy using these words to describe myself.