Flip-Flopping Ambiguity

It’s a balancing act, isn’t it? I mean, day after day, we run into so many things. Every moment contains tons of input and we’re constantly trying to untangle it all to keep our balance. Our minds handle this all quite well, in a way. Based on what sunk in and made a permanent home in the past, things that bombard your sensors on a daily basis are neatly filtered and categorized. GIGO – garbage in, garbage out. The end result is your own personal version of everything, otherwise known as your “world view.”

For the most part, this all works just fine. But, not always. When things start to get a little haywire, we can allow ourselves to fall back on Freud's defense mechanisms such as denial, projection, repression or rationalization; or we can let it all send us for a loop.

Therefore, you can call me Loopy. I won’t take offense, because, after the last week, that’s exactly what I am. Loopy. Undeniably, certifiably loopy. Not a thing sunk in, and not an iota made sense. No matter what I saw or experienced, it never seemed clear just what it was I was seeing or experiencing.

I saw my doctor a week ago. He’s a wickedly handsome bloke that has polished up his presentation, so to speak. I get the impression that he relies on his good looks to distract enough so that when his polished presentation misses a beat or two, it goes unnoticed. This Matthew Broderick look-alike is intelligent, but not in a geeky way. Instead, he tends to lean toward the dangerous side in that his polished presentation includes manipulation and a bit of two-faced-ness. The $95 charge to look at him for ten minutes has yet to be a value, though his medical ability, so far, is. With those little red warning flags waving due to the perceived lack of empathy, I find it hard to trust him. So far, no big deal. I’m still alive.

This is me being opinionated, but it ticks me off. I met a dynamic woman who goes around to all the schools to educate teenagers about potentially violent dating relationships. This is something that I feel is extremely important, especially in the teen years since that is when the sense of identity is formed and cemented, all based on how a teen learns to navigate the various relationships in life. Come to find out, one of the schools’ principals refuses to let her come in and do her thing.

As it happens, a friend of mine has three teenagers going to that particular school. It’s not a big school system by any means, but what has become very apparent about the school is that there is a big problem with racism, child abuse and neglect, and drugs. It’s a church-going, conservative lot that runs the place. One of my friend’s teenagers has already been involved in an abusive relationship and has recently become the target of an extreme level of harassment by her peers. Someone called the cops on a prom party where pot and beer were provided by parents, and news of the bust traveled fast, all with fingers pointed at her as the one who turned them in. The conversation with the principal about the situation resulted in only “why didn’t you come to me with your problems?” Red-faced and flustered he was, and not at all capable of offering any sort of remedies for the situation. I suppose a nut like that would think teaching teens how to identify the violence potential in a relationship is equal to sex education. What a complete, incompetent jerk! Yeah, I’m opinionated; and very glad I don’t have a kid in that school.

I met an, um, interesting couple yesterday. I called a man’s name, but what came out of the waiting room was a woman. “I hope you don’t mind, but I sent my husband to the car.” She was an attractive woman in a frumpy way, appeared meek, and wore an outfit that was almost, but not quite, horribly mismatched. She proceeds to tell me her husband, while filling out the application, tried to tell her that the last place he worked was a place he worked over 20 years ago. She said that he was in a car accident in February and it is now confirmed that he has Traumatic Brain Injury. Soon enough, the tears started to flow. But, due to confidentiality, her husband was the one I needed to talk to, so she went out to get him. Good thing because I needed to run to the lady’s room.

When I got back to my cubicle, there he was, and he did not look like a man that this woman would be married to. This man was in desperate need of an introduction to a comb. He was very tall and skinny with the iciest blue eyes I’d ever seen. A quick glance and neither had on a wedding ring. The wife asked if she should leave, and I considered it, but decided against it. And I let them talk.

Next week, results of tests should be in to confirm the TBI. Then suddenly, the man is suffering grand mal seizures. He said he didn’t know it. Then the wife pipes in and says something about that job he had 20 years ago. The husband responds in denial, clarifies the goof. Then I piped in with the fact that seizures are most likely to happen going into or coming out of sleep. Both of their eyes widened. I caught them off guard. The wife regrouped quickly and said “that’s what the doctors all said.”

Sure, it’s possible that these two were legit. It’s also possible that they were scam artists working as a team. Too many things didn’t add up. You’ll have to take my word on that one because I can’t go into the stuff that is actually my job. Even those could be legit, or they couldn’t. I’ll just have to wait and see.

So, my GIGO filters have been working overtime for the past week. I smell smoke, so I suppose they are overloaded to the max. This flip-flopping ambiguity is enough to make me loopy.

Loopy is as loopy does?

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