Tuesday, November 15, 2005

neuroses of a mathematician-in-training.

Earlier I think I over-exerted myself in terms of how long I could spend in the office while remaining sane. I eventually left for a little sushi, and lazybones that I was I took the bus home.

But this is what I wrote, before my escape.



Every so often I hesitate while doing perfectly normal activities in the office or chores at home. When other people are around, I think it looks like I 'zone out' or 'blank out' for a spell, and when I recover then all is well. Still, when it happens, it feels eerie for everyone involved.

For instance, I'm sitting in my office and staring at a white page of paper. I know what I'm going to write (or I think I do, at least) and the pen's already in my hand. But my hand is shaking slightly, you see, and other than that I can't seem to move it for a second or two. I can't write down the function or draw the diagram.

It sounds obsessive-compulsive or neurotic or some standard psychologically-motivated word and I can't help but wonder if something is wrong.

There's trouble with focusing, too, and trouble from distractions.

After teaching I can't return straight to work because the transition to silence and solitude feels too great and I must do something else, like grade quizzes or check my email .. and 15-20 minutes later my brain feels ready for tackling research or coursework or prelim reading or what-have-you.

After office hours I can't remain in my office. There's something about my desk now, which emits some residual state in which my mind rested. It's too computational and unfocused and if I start proving things in that mindset then I will argue myself in circles. I must leave it, leave to a coffeehouse or the second-floor Atrium/study area and work there. Let the experiential residue of teaching to dissipate, and then I can return to 1852 EH and work unhindered.

My god. This sounds like neurotic talk, and it feels like I'm less mentally capable than I used to be. It feels like something in me has changed -- maybe snapped or dissolved, say -- and as a result I've lost some peace of mind.

I don't know. Maybe it's all in my head, which could be relieving .. or troubling, depending on how you choose to see it. I really don't know.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

wow realy good wrighting

janus said...

Er .. thanks, I think. I also think it's worrisome that I can detect my own neuroses with this much precision. Something about this 'self-diagnosis' (if you want to call it that) doesn't bode well, in my book.

But I do appreciate your reading and enjoying(?) it.