'My cousin lost 8 stone on the stone age diet. He cut out everything beginning with B. No bread... no beer... no potatoes...'
The words are worrying enough. The fact that everyone nodded as though it made sense was even more so.
It could mean living on a diet of carbohydrate... cake and chocolate perhaps, whilst always remembering to turn down bananas, beans and B-vitamins. It's such a ridiculous notion. And an extremely poorly executed one at that.
I find it difficult not to engage in conversations like that because I really want to correct the errors that I hear. I know not to with strangers. I try not to do it with friends. It's not easy though, and sometimes I try and try, but the nagging thought just won't go away, and about half an hour later I correct them, when it is completely out of context and consequently inappropriate. Luckily my friends are happy to just roll their eyeballs around and laugh. It is almost a physical pain in my head to hear things that are fundamentally flawed, misspelt or misused. I can't even let my own mistakes go uncorrected. If I send a text message with a spelling error, which I later notice, I have to send another text with just the misspelt word re-spelt correctly. People are very used to getting random one word texts from me. If I didn't do it, the thought would never go away. I already have hundreds of those thoughts buzzing around my head; I certainly don't need anymore, especially not for one little word. Every failure and every mistake is as firmly ingrained on my brain as other people's interesting memories are. I can remember every spelling test at school where I got one question wrong. If I start to think about mistakes, they flash before my eyes in their thousands. I know how I was positioned and how I felt for each one. An unnecessary brain clog. Getting bogged down with the details is my biggest drain.
Up until I was about 13, I couldn't bear to have anything crossed out in my school notebooks. The mistake would stand out like a penguin in parliament, and every time I would use the notebook, I would see it, floating above all the other words. So if I made a mistake at any point, I would ask the teacher for a new book, take it home, and re-write the entire book. Sometimes it would take HOURS and HOURS! Around the age of 13, those magic pens that rub out fountain pen ink came about, and I just about learnt to deal with them, though I always hated the ink that replaced the mistake. Bright blue, and nearly as obvious as a crossing out. But at least the mistake itself was gone. I guess I've improved a bit now. Although the temptation remains to destroy anything that isn't perfect, I resist it. It does mean that there are many more of these irritating images accumulating in my mental collection, but it also means I spend less time repeating work that I have already done.
I have my uses though. My mother uses me to edit her work. I can spot repetitions of words in a moment and spelling errors in the same way. They appear bigger to me.
And I proof read lots of general paperwork for people.
I will be in an argument with my cognitive restructuring woman next week, as I don't believe I am a perfectionist in the way that she thinks that I am. I think there are things to be learnt from the theory, but ultimately, I think my brain is wired up in a different way. I suppose everyone's brain is wired differently really. That's what makes us interesting. Or irritating.
Anyway, I came on here to do some nonsense on my DVD and look what's happened!!
People
Yesterday I heard a woman saying...
'My cousin lost 8 stone on the stone age diet. He cut out everything beginning with B. No bread... no beer... no potatoes...'
The words are worrying enough. The fact that everyone nodded as though it made sense was even more so.
It could mean living on a diet of carbohydrate... cake and chocolate perhaps, whilst always remembering to turn down bananas, beans and B-vitamins. It's such a ridiculous notion. And an extremely poorly executed one at that.
I find it difficult not to engage in conversations like that because I really want to correct the errors that I hear. I know not to with strangers. I try not to do it with friends. It's not easy though, and sometimes I try and try, but the nagging thought just won't go away, and about half an hour later I correct them, when it is completely out of context and consequently inappropriate. Luckily my friends are happy to just roll their eyeballs around and laugh. It is almost a physical pain in my head to hear things that are fundamentally flawed, misspelt or misused. I can't even let my own mistakes go uncorrected. If I send a text message with a spelling error, which I later notice, I have to send another text with just the misspelt word re-spelt correctly. People are very used to getting random one word texts from me. If I didn't do it, the thought would never go away. I already have hundreds of those thoughts buzzing around my head; I certainly don't need anymore, especially not for one little word. Every failure and every mistake is as firmly ingrained on my brain as other people's interesting memories are. I can remember every spelling test at school where I got one question wrong. If I start to think about mistakes, they flash before my eyes in their thousands. I know how I was positioned and how I felt for each one. An unnecessary brain clog. Getting bogged down with the details is my biggest drain.
Up until I was about 13, I couldn't bear to have anything crossed out in my school notebooks. The mistake would stand out like a penguin in parliament, and every time I would use the notebook, I would see it, floating above all the other words. So if I made a mistake at any point, I would ask the teacher for a new book, take it home, and re-write the entire book. Sometimes it would take HOURS and HOURS! Around the age of 13, those magic pens that rub out fountain pen ink came about, and I just about learnt to deal with them, though I always hated the ink that replaced the mistake. Bright blue, and nearly as obvious as a crossing out. But at least the mistake itself was gone. I guess I've improved a bit now. Although the temptation remains to destroy anything that isn't perfect, I resist it. It does mean that there are many more of these irritating images accumulating in my mental collection, but it also means I spend less time repeating work that I have already done.
I have my uses though. My mother uses me to edit her work. I can spot repetitions of words in a moment and spelling errors in the same way. They appear bigger to me.
And I proof read lots of general paperwork for people.
I will be in an argument with my cognitive restructuring woman next week, as I don't believe I am a perfectionist in the way that she thinks that I am. I think there are things to be learnt from the theory, but ultimately, I think my brain is wired up in a different way. I suppose everyone's brain is wired differently really. That's what makes us interesting. Or irritating.
Anyway, I came on here to do some nonsense on my DVD and look what's happened!!