Yeah I’m an underachiever – so what?

Yesterday’s entry left a few ends untied and lying loose in the brain, which I let roll around and wait for it to slowly become something coherent and with form that I was to write tonight. Like an extension piece to what went before. But I left it too long / the noise from the tv robbed me of it / daily life whatever. It’s gone. I hate that.

Still I will try and grasp the tails of the few fragments that are left slithering around and try and piece something together.

I was commenting to a friend the other day, the same friend who referred me on to the articles contained in the last entry, about ‘not living up to my potential’.

Many years ago I had to visit a vocational psychologist to jump through the insurance company’s hoops in relation to a  workers compensation claim. It was a long and exhaustive morning filled with IQ tests, general knowledge, spatial ability tests … all sorts of things. At the end when he returned from marking all of these things, he looked at me at said “Well. You have been underachieving all of your life, haven’t you?” I never did find out what the results of those tests were (I’m assuming the insurance company hoped for something a lot less than what they got – snort!!) but boy, that comment has stuck for a long long time.

I won’t go into the why’s of my underachiever status in depth here. They are many and varied. And some of them quite brutal. My parents took a softly gently approach … believed in letting us find our own path, never pushed us academically, and I wasn’t urged to attend university when I left school. Being a teenager I wasn’t interested in more study! Even though I had done very well at school. No – I wanted to get out in the real world and so I did.

The one path I was helped along by my parents, because they recognised my talent, was music. I have touched on that briefly before, but the whole story there is for another blog, not now.

But it wasn’t until a work injury necessitated a change of career direction that I took up study as a mature aged student (ie anyone past the age of what … 25? lol). I decided I wanted to be a community worker so undertook a two year part time course, which gave me an Advanced Certificate in Welfare – 1 year of credit toward a social science or social work degree.

Oh the fear, the absolute terror, of starting that course and having to turn in big essays and be marked. But once I got my first one back with a nice big red A on it I was home and hosed. From then on I got the academic competitiveness thing happening. Competing against me. Every mark had to be an A, -A at the very least. And when we completed the course and graduation finally came I had lovely dreams of coming top of the class. Which I did. And I got a certificate for that also, and a pen. I didn’t give two hoots about the pen I was just happy to have been top of the class.

So I got all caught up in needing to get strokes and validation from high marks and started an Honours psychology degree at one of Australia’s most respected universities via external studies (correspondence with the occasional stay on campus because I don’t live anywhere near the university). However that didn’t last terribly long. Life threw one hell of a curve ball. Well a couple really.

One of my sisters was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour, six weeks after I broke my back. As anyone who’s had a family member or loved one diagnosed with something as life-threatening as that would know, it throws you into the grieving process right away. It was a long long road of an operation and treatment for her – a horrific time. There is no way I could continue studying under those conditions. Another person might have been able to, I was told to try and stick with it.. that it could be a good diversion, but given the world of emotion and sensitivity I live in (and now understand) there is just no way it could have worked.

So followed a massive re-evaluation of my life and it’s purpose. A bit of an existential crisis. I decided that concentrating on life and those I loved was way more important than focussing everything on academics so I dropped the degree, and have never gone back. And the thing is … I don’t feel the need to and I definitely don’t want to.

I got a message from someone last night commenting and complimenting me on yesterday’s post. He said that any IQ score over 130 is useless unless you have the emotional willpower to use it properly. I commented that was my point in a way … it’s just a number (and to be pedantic the score was actually 147 not 142 as I found I typed when I reread it today … not that the 5 points makes any difference at all. Just to contradict myself )

Who is to say what exactly is the proper use of an IQ score? A number? Is the only proper use of intelligence academics?? Bullshit. That is so much intellectual snobbery. I couldn’t give two shits about getting an Honours degree, coming top of the class, finding a high paying job and working my arse off to amass wealth. Not now. That is just not the person I am. I could go off into a great big loop here about existentialism, philosophy, spirituality.

And for some reason then … in the true gifted ‘scattered’ (ie random) manner, I just remembered a beloved old tv series I miss that I need to put in my profile …the old British series of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy … anyone remember that? And reruns of Catweasel!!!!!! Ah what memories. You wonder why I took this weird left leap? I was thinking of the meaning of life … therefore Hitchhikers ….etc.

To think that is the path that should be for a gifted person is so erroneous anyway. If you read what went before … creative expression is what I believe most of us are impelled to do. The lucky ones find their passion and can self-actualize. Although that’s not to say it’s always going to be an easy path to tread. By our very nature things aren’t going to be easy The rest of us search and search for ??? and feel existential angst because we don’t know what ??? is. What it is  that we feel we should know we want to do. Or we do but we are frozen.

I do believe the person who messaged me that I mentioned above was actually making the excellent point that IQ is no good without emotional intelligence. What I’ve been doing here is not arguing his point because I agree with it. But rather doing one of my God-awful thinking while I write exercises. You’re getting a rather stream of consciousness blurt here in contrast to yesterdays properly written effort. Just me clarifying things for myself while I type.

I’ve still got some scraps of thoughts about superficiality and social facades that are floating, and now some musings about existential loneliness beginning. For another time. If they survive.