Everyone has problems. What are yours? Seriously. Tell me. It interests me. I’m not sure why exactly, considering my typical working day comprises of dealing with Other People's Problems, if only in a way befitting a customer service type and solely those smallest of issues which, on the grand scheme of things don’t really matter. Not only that, but a fair portion of my spare time involves delving into the problems of the wider world by way of scrutinising the news of the day, absorbing ‘current affairs’ type shows on T.V or immersing myself in a world of dubious fiction; watching films where inevitably the protagonist will encounter a problem – I’ll watch them solve that problem whilst thinking ‘I could have done better’. Alternatively, I’ll just go to the pub where I’ll sit with like minded folk and put the world to rights over a few drinks, we’ll imagine just how we’d fix this, improve that, solve the other.
By now it almost appears to be a bit of a hobby. So much of my time is spent burying myself in these Other People's Problems that from time to time issues of my own creep up, bed in and flourish. But these are too real. Nothing distracts my mind more than a dilemma affecting anyone but me. I’ll criticise, assess and analyse. I’ll empathise, sympathise and patronise. Sometimes I’ll even encourage, inspire and provoke a solution. I will do any one of these things and feel a sense of satisfaction. I’ll impart assumed wisdom about natural disasters and societal problems of which I have no experience or indeed any comprehension of the scale, the impact or the effect. I’ll feel good about it too. I do it in all seriousness. As if I actually help.
Lady can’t afford her gas bill, rings me at work, problem solved. Obesity levels are rising amongst children. Jamie Oliver got it wrong. Should have done it my way. Still no sign of resolution in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? I really should email Netanyahu and Abbas a Power-Point presentation of my ‘Peace in da East’ 5 step programme.
This insane desire to pay no attention to improving my own situation has led to this need to distract my mind and detach myself from my own reality in any humanly possible way. I’ll pick fault with others yet I dare not cast a critical eye over myself consciously and seriously, even though I ought to from time to time. Who knows? Were I to do so I might make some headway in respects to my own aspirations. The simple fact is that I suffer an acute lack of enthusiasm when it comes to trying to do anything. It may be something banal, like cleaning my shoes. Generally I let myself down when an opportunity arises to do something I love.
Recently I had the opportunity to write a radio show. The premise was there (it was actually quite good) and it represented an opportunity to do something which I really wanted to, it was all it was cracked up to be. I was motivated. I was eager. Apparently, I couldn’t be arsed. It is pretty much the same situation with this whole blog malarkey. It was something I’d wanted to do for some time; all it took was the right sort of inspiration and we were up and running. Albeit until the novelty wore off, allowing my apathetic and insecure nature to come to the fore and revert me to type.
I’m not delusional. I wasn’t of the impression that these things would bring me any type of immediate success. They were just things to do. I barely expected any sense of satisfaction or for these things to make me feel good about myself. I had no real belief in my ability to make them work, or even an idea of how they would. I have always fancied myself as a writer, as far back as a pot-holed mind can remember and yet numerous opportunities to begin to realise my ambition have fallen the way of procrastination, indolence and fear.
Everything becomes an attempt to prevent myself having to face my own failures. Not just existing failings either, but failings yet to occur too. I’m quite the paradox I suppose, I don’t expect to succeed, yet I’m scared to fail. Maybe I am designed to work in a call centre after all – I do appear to be surrounded by those of a similar mental ilk, daring to dream but never to try and do something different…
There is a sociological suggestion which I have touched upon before and it seems relevant enough to bring up here too – that a certain proportion (of a certain class) of any given generation will become Fixed in Failure, and from an early age too. This may be down to failings within the educational system but that all depends on your perspective…
Early on in the education system which the vast majority of us are exposed to, a percentage of students attaining below average test scores will eventually and inevitably be expected to achieve as much term upon term, year upon year. Because these students have shown no marked improvement over a set period of time (ie. They don’t respond as well as some to general teaching method) rather than be exposed to a change in tact they will be allowed to ‘fall by the wayside’. This way, a teacher can reserve their best efforts for those most likely to achieve the grades necessary to tie in with the school’s pre-set targets as opposed to their skills being utilised to help those most in need of the attentions of a teacher. The cream rises early, and those lagging behind will eventually and inevitably become disillusioned with an educational system which doesn’t benefit them meaning that they will drop out as soon as possible and seek employment in low skilled work such as manufacturing or indeed call centres, thus perpetuating the working classes for another generation.
Psychologically they expect to fail, as they’re accustomed to doing as much. Somewhere along the line the desire to try escapes them. I suppose that’s what happens when you rely on a system of education designed by industrialists in order to fulfil their own requirements but hey, I’m not one to clutch at straws…
I’m not fixed in failure, I don’t think. I fear failure. I don’t enjoy the way it feels. I fear it so much that I rarely even try.
Most things I attempt to achieve which veer even slightly from the norm tend to be a stab at appearing a little less prosaic, an effort to come across a little less boring, although ultimately I end up feeling a little less like myself.
Statistically I’m not alone in this. I k now this because the main piece of advice offered to me in this predicament tends to be “go for it! What’s the worst that can happen? At least you can say you’ve tried!” or some other adage of those who have failed already.
At least I tried… if I ever start sounding like that I’ll want shooting if I am indeed true to myself. Yeah, you tried and you failed. I’ll fail without even trying so really, more fool you.
I don’t wish to face up to my problems right now thanks, but I’m more than willing to help you with yours.
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