AHead of Everyone
Somehow, I have managed to avoid therapy. I have yet to visit a shrink, psychiatrist or a counselor. It is amazing really, considering all the abnormal things that have claimed a place of normalcy in my life.
Take for instance concussions. I had always thought concussions were akin to chicken pox; that they are a part of every kid's childhood. I always saw the journey of growing up marked with loose teeth, chicken pox, learning to ride a bike and getting concussions. Apparently I was wrong. Not everyone got a concussion as a child.
My confusion, in more ways than one, can be attributed to the fact that I have had a total of 4 possible concussions in my life. How, you ask? Let me tell you.
1. Slipped on the tile floor at church while playing tag. My dad's reaction: "Why didn't you put your hands down? Did you think your face was going to catch you?" Yes. My face did quite a nice job of catching me.
2. Clothes-lined myself while Playing Marco Polo in the basement in the dark. I discovered that we had forgotten to take the rope down that was hanging across the two support poles. Next thing I remember was laying on the couch giving back all the fortune cookies I had previously eaten in my glee of reading fortunes and learning Chinese.
3. Jr. High. We were all hanging out in the church gym - trying to not look like dorks. Joe Ewig I remember was doing a very good job of it...until he kicked the soccer ball into my head. But I couldn't see at that point, so it was all good.
4. Took on an air-bag with my face as Tamara's Jeep kissed a Silver Maple. Maintained enough awareness to tell the car behind us we were not moving the Jeep. JERKS.
So there you have it. I am either more prone to head injuries than most people, or my Dad's response for the first one created a need to prove that I can put my hands down and catch myself.
Maybe I do need therapy.
Take for instance concussions. I had always thought concussions were akin to chicken pox; that they are a part of every kid's childhood. I always saw the journey of growing up marked with loose teeth, chicken pox, learning to ride a bike and getting concussions. Apparently I was wrong. Not everyone got a concussion as a child.
My confusion, in more ways than one, can be attributed to the fact that I have had a total of 4 possible concussions in my life. How, you ask? Let me tell you.
1. Slipped on the tile floor at church while playing tag. My dad's reaction: "Why didn't you put your hands down? Did you think your face was going to catch you?" Yes. My face did quite a nice job of catching me.
2. Clothes-lined myself while Playing Marco Polo in the basement in the dark. I discovered that we had forgotten to take the rope down that was hanging across the two support poles. Next thing I remember was laying on the couch giving back all the fortune cookies I had previously eaten in my glee of reading fortunes and learning Chinese.
3. Jr. High. We were all hanging out in the church gym - trying to not look like dorks. Joe Ewig I remember was doing a very good job of it...until he kicked the soccer ball into my head. But I couldn't see at that point, so it was all good.
4. Took on an air-bag with my face as Tamara's Jeep kissed a Silver Maple. Maintained enough awareness to tell the car behind us we were not moving the Jeep. JERKS.
So there you have it. I am either more prone to head injuries than most people, or my Dad's response for the first one created a need to prove that I can put my hands down and catch myself.
Maybe I do need therapy.
posted by Andi at
11:58 AM
