Pop Quiz Syndrome

Honestly, I thought I would have grown out of this unsatisfactory personality trait by now. Yet, here I am at thirty-four years old, still drawing a panicky blank when asked a direct question for which I have not rehearsed an answer. The most common deer in the headlights moment is when asked what is my favorite anything. Even if it's the sweet husband calling from the store to thoughtfully ask if there's anything I need, my mind draws an annoying, tidy blank.

My seemingly limitless naivety had me believing that going back to school would magically knock me out of the brain freeze pattern, but all it's really done is painfully call my attention to the problem ever more acutely.

This week, I noticed the syndrome spilling over into social situations and simple conversations. When attending a party, I find myself sort of meandering about, never really talking to anyone at length, because it muddles my thinking. The bossman might ask me what I think about a certain current event and my thoughtful, whip-smart response doesn't surface until the moment has long passed. Don't ever point a video camera at me and expect to be enlightened by my stuttering.

What I really hate to admit is that this is all related to my personal fears...of going deep, of taking risks, of being specific, providing evidence, of being successful and a failure. Annika would be nodding her head and raising her eyebrows at me in "I told you so" agreement right about now. When I think about where I get stuck in my writing, it's always at the details, always at taking it to the raw-level feelings. That's an uncomfortable, scary space that I've gotten too adept at avoiding. My vulnerable, loving heart so desperately tries to remain innocent that its managed to totally block off large portions of my brain.

It's very vexing.

Sure, yes, of course I'm exaggerating my brain freezes a teensy bit. Seeing as I've trapped myself in this pattern for over three decades, it's all fairly manageable. One becomes skilled in letting it go after saying something ridiculously awkward. I'll just have to live with the fact that I'll never make it on Jeopardy.