FEEDBACK (was the original title for a writing course I once did. Am reposting because I need to start somewhere but Im cringing but would also sort of appreciate feedback)
Feedback is judgement. Feedback is fear. Feedback is Failure. Feedback is shame. Feedback is the paralysis of all hope. It is the execution of excitement about my stupid doomed dreams. Feedback is the death of me.
Examples of excruciating feedback experiences and endurances that prove my point
Having to do a personality assessment test whilst at college. Answered it honestly, although I had no idea who I was back then…so did I really answer it honestly?. The feedback said that I was either a psychopath or a genius.
Remembering all the OCD type actions I had to do before lesson observations by senior members of staff whilst I was a teacher. Praying the same prayer over and over in the car until I got to the school. “Please don’t make me fail, please don’t make me fail, please don’t make me fail. Amen’ The exhausting and tortuous repetition of actions that if not done would completely mean crushingly negative feedback. No wonder I was so exhausted post assessment as the adrenalin wore off.
Feedback from the kids I taught. Their feedback can be the worst. You’re not really a proper person to them if they don’t like you, which in their minds translates to ‘I can destroy you with my actions and my words’. I don’t hold any ill feeling towards those that did destroy me though. It was all my fault. I can still envisage my voice dissipating into the air as I tried to teach some of them. Like making the motion of speech but with no sound. It was when I realised I was becoming partly invisible
Ofsted inspections for someone like me with serious confidence issues. Utterly terrifying
Deciding to leave teaching ten years ago and witnessing the changing feedback from people as the years have worn on. Initial understanding and sympathy breaking down into seeing you as a life loser as you struggle to find something else to do.
Presentations. Having to do a presentation after ‘Brain Boy’ had done his. Brain boy was the cleverest person on my university course.I wonder what he is doing now? Anyhow he did this amazing, astute, confident presentation… and then it was my turn. Even my best friend who was sat next to me said it was actually painful to endure. I was so shy and nervy, I couldn’t breathe and so couldn’t talk. Looking back I can see that I had a sort of panic attack. Someone should have taken me aside. The feedback was…
A few years later I had to do another presentation. God help me I filled my water bottle with gin and drank it whilst waiting to do my presentation. I honestly can’t say how it went. There was a lot of laughter, that’s all I remember but I also recollect that the tutor was called out just as I started mine. That had to be divine intervention. Im not sure if anyone could see that I was drinking. How drunk was I? This was probably my worst experience. You’ll never meet me so i can tell you about it. Not many people know about it. I’m too ashamed. Someone should have taken me aside
Being told by your successful Asian father that you are a disappointment as you didn’t become a doctor like him but also being told its ok because you have children and they’re a lot of work.
Trying to become an artist and doing quite well and loving it, although NOT making any money. Feedback from Father: Being asked by your father if you are making any money from doing your art. Giving up on the art.
Trying to learn about Ayurveda at a high level, thinking about practising it. Bemusement from father at ‘you and your ayurveda’. Can feel myself withdrawing from my interest in ayurveda.
My own running commentary feedback on my life. My daily feedback: Middle aged. Getting older. Weak minded. Confused. Really confused. Lost opportunities. Missed opportunities. Unable to focus. Unable to work out what i want to do. Not being able to do what I want to do. Heavy thoughts weighing down my whole body like an anchor at the bottom of the ocean. Full of regrets. Living a fantasy life. Escaping to my fantasy life. Stereotypical middle aged person who will soon be old and covered in dust in the corner of the room and in the corner of people lives. Crying. Staring. Loser. Bored with my own negativity. Wondering if my negativity is a safety blanket keeping me still, unheard, unseen. Wearing more makeup to cover up Wondering if there is a magical solution to life misery
I need a cup of tea now. This is awful. I hope you don’t feel awful. Bet you want to walk away and make tea too now. Sorry
