the sly embroiderer

Something I've had to revisit of late is an aspect of travail that I had been avoiding. It's where my trauma's at. Or was. Administration work -- filling in forms intelligently and accurately -- has been something I thought I could not do effectively. Mentally, of course, it didn't seem to be a problem. But emotionally I had the feeling that I have when I am pressed to do something in which I feel incompetent: It's the sensation that I'm looking in an embroidery for stitches that are too small for me to see. (The embroidery analogy also has its historical context -- in primary school, this class used to scare me more than any other. My fingers used to get grubby with sweat, and I once -- shame of all shames -- I lost my thread, the orange thread that had been given me by my teacher, and had to beg my parents to go to the shops to purchase a whole new ball of thread to cover up for me.) When I have to deal with issues of young children or fill in a number of forms, (or put things accurately in places) I once again feel like I've lost my thread. I'd much prefer to be sitting back, doing what comes easily to me: intellectual work.

Unpleasant as it was, I think I've finally conquered my anxiety, at least in part. The bad dreams that I had in the past couple of days, as well as the cold, cold feeling, were aspects of delving into a part of my mind where I didn't want to be. A large part of the workplace bullying I experienced in the 90s raised the question in my mind of whether or not I was extremely incompetent at all things clerical. Apparently (according to online personality data) ENTPs (my type!) are the most likely of the 16 types to avoid situations that make us feel incompetent. That is, if we can.