I’m sure I wasn’t older than eight when I first noticed my obsession with numbers and patterns.  When doing the dishes I had the overwhealming compulsion to ensure that the red and yellow plates and cups were stacked in a way that each stack clearly showed a pattern.  It was a challenge to come up with different patterns, especially as we did not have an even number of each colour.  It was also a time when I would adjust my steps to ensure I had taken exactly an even number of steps; I always began with my right and finished with my left.  Going even further with the steps I had to take an even number of steps (and the same number of steps) within each square of sidewalk, without cheating and stepping on a crack.  Finally I figured that an odd number was just like a palindrome, and with great effort, I weaned myself from the very stressful compulsion of counting my steps.  I can definitively announce that I no longer count my steps, and that as all of my dishes are white, I’m not plagued with the need to make patterns.

My high school math teacher, Lorna Shaw, was a hurricane.  We always entered that first period class a little bleary-eyed and exited 75 minutes later dizzy.  She amazingly re-taught us the previous years’ math to fill in all of our obvious gaps from junior high in addition to covering our entire curriculum for grade 10.  (Then when we had her again for grade 11 we didn’t require remediation — somehow, however, the class’ pace didn’t seem to slack.)  She was very demanding and it was a hard transition for us.  I typically fell asleep, pencil in hand, with my math book open, only hours before my alarm would ring and start the day again.  I became obssessed with numbers as I now saw all the ways in which they were interconnected.  Every time I looked at a digital clock I couldn’t look away until I had calculated a relationship between the numbers, and even now I still seek patterns or number sentences in phone numbers.  Interestingly enough, the time on the clock I saw exponentially more than any other time was 5:27.  That was an easy one: 5+2=7, but to this day when I glance at the clock at 5:27 I remember high school.  I don’t remember when or how I kicked that habit, but I believe it faded with the hurricane of graduation, work, and college.

I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why at some points in my life I’m more succeptible to these compulsive behaviours than others.  Both instances of math obsessions came shortly after our family had moved, the first to a new house within the same school district, the second was back up to the Yukon.  Both times were at pivotal points of my developing independence.  During these shaky times I turned to math for comfort, and when I felt comfortable with my new situation, I turned my attention to breaking the habit and living free.

We all have our own neuroses.


3 thoughts on “Numb3rs

  1. My band teacher always said that people who play music generally do better at math. I’m TERRIBLE at math. Even simple math that ought to be “duh” I have to double check. Of course, part of me being terrible at it is because I just can’t stand it! For me math is boring beyond reason. I’d say that it’s also tedious, but there are lots of other tedious things that I love to do (like needlework)! I guess it’s like eating fish, I just don’t like it 🙂

    I’d wager a guess that you’re much more of an artist than I am. I am a musician, but much more of a theory geek than a performer, which explains the math. Or you may just hate math because of a bad experience early on, as is the case with my husband. Either way, you need to find an alternate way of getting those all-important omega-3s.

  2. That’s very interesting. The only thing I can compare it to in my life is when I used to eat McDonald’s french fries I always had to arrange them from shortest to longest and then eat them in that order. I was going to say I gave that up when I hit high school, but now there’s books on bookshelves. If they aren’t in alphabetical order, they have to be arranged from tallest to shortest. I feel very uncomfortable if books are in random order.

    Like I said, we all have our own neuroses. Since Little Red was born I’m okay with the bookshelf being cluttered (it’s one of the few places we can deposit things out of reach) but I do understand that mentality. I was that way with the clothes in the closet. I used to hang everything according to type (all shirts together, all skirts, all dresses) in order of size/length and then within each subcategory in order of colour, ranging from lightest to darkest. Marriage broke me of that one!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s