“Scatter-brained… Head in the clouds… Forgetful…”
“Oh, Amelia. You would lose your head if it weren’t attached.”
Aww, what a fun, adorable thing to say to a child.In other words, “Child, you have no self-management skills, and that endangers you on a daily basis. Also, it’s not going to get better, but be grateful that your skin is keeping your brain attached to your circulatory system.”
This time, I’m analyzing my own behaviour, and getting ready to learn new skills. I’m sharing this story with you, warts and all. I’ll explain where I’ve been, and where I intend to go next…
Memories of a forgetful child
As a child, I couldn’t keep track of my mittens. This might seem like the sort of problem an adorable pie-seeking kitten might have, but it’s actually a pretty significant health risk when you grow up in in the frozen prairie wonderland Winnipeg, Manitoba. My forgetfulness was physically painful to me.
I never seemed to have a pencil at school. Ever. A desperate school teacher once drilled a hole in a pencil, hung it on a string, and draped it around my neck in the hopes that I wouldn’t lose it like all the others. I wore it home the next day. My forgetfulness was a source of humiliation.
I never learned how to keep a binder organized. My teachers would present me with a worksheet, I would fill it out, and I would slide it into my desk or drop it in my backpack. Eventually, the desk or backpack would reach capacity, and someone would ceremonially dump out the crumpled contents (which usually contained a few rotting McIntosh apples from my brown-bag lunch.) This started to become an issue in middle school, when the teacher’s handwritten zeros in each column of her assessment chart were carefully added up. My forgetfulness limited my academic potential.
A forgetful woman wanders off the path
This scatter-brained girl grew up into a woman with a knack for misadventure.
On solo weekend trip to Osaka, Japan, I ended up stranded without currency on my first day. Nowhere to sleep. No money for food. No one would wire me the cash. My forgetfulness has been a source of deep anxiety.
I remember once being quite proud of myself for taking a trip to the bank to wire some money home. Unfortunately, I arrived and realized that I had forgotten my passport. Then I looked down and saw I was wearing two different shoes: one loafer and one running shoe. My forgetfulness has made it hard for me to trust myself.
I still have to budget extra time into my trips on public transit, because there’s a very good chance I’ll get on the wrong bus, or take the right train going in the wrong direction. My forgetfulness takes hours out of my life.
Time to start over
It’s cute to be a child with one’s head in the clouds, but not when your hands are freezing and your lunch is missing.
I’ve lost wallets, heck, entire purses. I’ve lost my passport. I’ve forgotten daily medication, completely blanked on meals, and missed international flights.
As I grow, I value my creativity and love for novelty. I’ve learned to be very brave, calm and resourceful, so I can cope when parts of my memory suddenly go dark and I can’t find or plan what I need.
My scattered thoughts do hold me back, however, and the results range from inconvenient and humiliating to downright dangerous.
Putting my brain back together
First of all, I realize that this might be a neurological issue. I’m going to be assessed by a psychologist later this summer, and if there are medications or therapies that can help, I will find those supports.
Meanwhile, there are behavioural steps I can take to make this better. Knowing my brain works the way it does, there are changes I can make in my environment. I can add reminders and visuals. I can set aside time to tidy and set goals.
I’ve decided to treat myself gently, using behaviour analysis. I’ll try to look at myself like compassionate and insightful behaviour therapist would. I’ve also asked for some help from Nick Rizzo, a professional who has followed a similar path, so I will have extra support and accountability (this article was his idea.)
Here are the steps I’m going to take:
- I need to zoom in on the skills, habits and behaviours I’m missing right now
- I will slowly start to build and practice these skills until they are “mastered”
- I will look at why I have stayed in the same habits for so long, and keep my focus on what the greater pay-off would be when I start to learn new habits
- Sprinkle some extra incentive in my life in the meantime (probably chocolate)
- Add reminders in the form of alarms, post-its, and notes from supportive people in my life.
There’s an emotional piece, of course. I’m scared to face this, because I’ve struggled with it in the past and never found my way to the other side. I’m taking on a Growth Mindset which means putting aside old labels and focusing on taking action, one step at a time.
One last story for now
My father and I were very similar in our dreamy ways. “Don’t be like me,” he would tell me. “Be like your mother. Be like your mother, and you will rule the world.” For many years, I watched my mother juggle home and work responsibilities, making and checking off lists with her beautiful handwriting. I felt that I would never approach that level of efficiency and focus.
I’m closer now to “ruling the world” than I ever have been.
What would “ruling the world” look like for you?