Monday, July 26, 2010

High School and the Passive-Aggressive Subconscious

Sometimes my subconscious mind still thinks it's in high school. It gets passive-aggressively annoying.

You know the kind of thing. Usually encountered when dealing with teenagers of the female persuasion, but not invariably. They mope, they sigh, they look mournful. But if you ask what's wrong? The invariable answer: "Oh, nothing."

[deep sigh]

They expect you to guess what the problem is.

For heaven's sake. Things have come to a pretty pass when my subconscious expects me to read its mind. It's depressed about something, but I'm supposed to guess why. I'm going to assume it's work-related.

Times like this, my subconscious wants to drink red wine and read Neruda, Borges, or Rilke, poets who convince her that there's more to life than a 9-7 job every day. (When I was in high school, I used to skip algebra to go downtown and drink espresso and read C.S. Lewis, Jack Kerouac, and Gregory Corso, and try to convince myself that there was Life After High School. Turns out it's called High School 2: The Saga Continues. Just as well I didn't know that then.)

I mean, take last Thursday. The flesh was willing, but the spirit decided it was depressed and didn't want to work out. It just wanted to drink red wine and read poetry.

The logical side of the brain pointed out that Exercise Would Make You Feel Better Already, but to no avail. I was trying to lift a lead zeppelin with a weakling motivation.

I tried to be practical and try to figure out the problem. What the hell was worth the prima donna act? Sure, I'm less than thrilled with work. Suck it up, subconscious. You'd be more depressed if I were out of work and you had to deal with me sitting around the house all day, wearing scruffy clothing and slouching around.

Didn't work. Ended up doing Thursday's exercise on Friday night, just before midnight.

I hate it when the inner demons win out over the health & fitness part of my conscious mind. If my sub-c pulled this trick this up on a regular basis, I'd send it down to the local therapist's office for conversation and medication. Since it only acts like this once every semester, usually around mid-terms blue moon, I suppose I should let it have the occasional day off. Show mercy in the hopes that it will see sense. I mean, as frustrating as life gets sometimes, at least I'm not in high school.

Exercise du jour: Still trying for that 12 miles of cycling


Dr. J said...

Establishing healthy habits is the only way. That will sustain you through the tougher times. There is no way around this. Habits rule.

messymimi said...

Why do we tell kids in high school that this is the best time in their lives, when we know it isn't true?

On habits: "In truth, the only difference between those who have succeeded and those who have failed lies in the difference of their habits. Good habits are the key to all success. Bad habits are the unlocked door to failure." ~ Og Mandino, in "The Greatest Salesman in the World".

Marste said...

I'm sorry you're struggling. I wish I had something pithy and/or inspiring to say, but . . . I got nothing.

Oh, wait! How about a Jack Handy quote? That's even sort of relevant?

"What is it about a beautiful sunny afternoon, with the birds singing and the wind rustling through the leaves, that makes you want to get drunk?”

Amen, Mr. Handy. A. MEN. ;)

The Merry said...

Dang, but you're making an awful lot of sense, Marste.

C said...

At least it's only off-days and not off-weeks or months. Just consider them mental health days. :)

I'm also encouraged by all this talk of habits. Need to get me some of those. The good kind. I got the bad ones in spades right now.