Enjoying the blog? like the page on facebook!
Being a 90’s child my favourite toy was inevitably Woody from Toy Story. Most kids wanted Buzz Lightyear because he was ‘cooler’. I like to think that as a child I saw that Woody was always true to himself and others, he never pandered to an audience or relied on the praise of others as a way to measure his self worth. In reality it was because he had a removable hat and a pull string.
You would pull the string and he would alternately say 3 or 4 things, such as ‘Theres a snake in my boots!’ or ‘You’re my favourite deputy!’. I would soon come to realise that neither of those things were true, but one can only imagine the emotional strain I had put on him if he were in fact real. One minute he is happy about having a new deputy, the next minute he has to deal with the immediate threat of a poisonous snake on his person.
I think this is the time in my life that I noticed two things, firstly, after weeks of setting my alarm in the middle of the night to not see my toys talking or playing amongst themselves was something I should be disappointed about. Secondly, I started to become aware of my own emotions. I actually think those two lessons could probably be condensed into the same category.
See, I was never an emotive child, and I am certainly not an emotive adult. On the Official Emotion Scale (OES), I would rate somewhere between a potato and a tree swaying in a mild breeze. I am a very logical person, in the sense that I do more thinking than feeling. When I noticed my Woody wasn’t actually coming alive at night, I thought to myself – ‘well, that is disappointing isn’t it?’, and it was. But I was thinking it, I wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t get upset or down for a few days. I just worked out that there was a difference between my expectation and reality, and that should therefore equal disappointment.
I have followed that blue print ever since. It can be awkward though, when you get a new job or receive a gift for instance, because you have worked out you should be happy and are therefore required by social law to do things which constitute happiness. It just never comes out right. I mean, I am happy, I’ve done the maths already and all things point to happiness. It was official, I was happy, convincing other people of the fact though was, and still is a difficult task. This is not just the case for positive emotions either, I’m equally bad at portraying anger or even mild disagreement. Those are the only two negative emotions that exist*.
Due to my emotionless exterior I find that every day, irrespective of the depression, I appear solemn. Even inside there is rarely raging emotion, just little ticks on the Geiger counter. Today though, I have been on a rollercoaster of emotion, albeit a very timid rollercoaster, like one of those children’s rollercoasters that you’d find at a nondescript country fair with a patchy safety record. I went from happy for waking up fresh, to frustrated at things I wouldn’t typically get frustrated at, I then got sad about the UK leaving the EU, followed by enthusiasm for a book I am putting together, that was followed by disappointment because Der Mann had no schokoschnecken left, and now I am left with hunger. Oh, this cruel world.
Now, I am a secret robot and my maths is telling me I shouldn’t be so emotional, so what is the deal today? Maybe my wires are crossed or maybe someone has been pressing all my imaginary metaphorical emotion robot buttons. One thing is for certain, I now terribly regret how I treated Wood all those years ago. I don’t know how he coped.
Ah damn, theres another emotion, now I am regretful. What is happening?!
*Thats not true.