Time – Reflections

I’ve been giving a lot of thought recently to time – or rather, our individual concepts of the passing of time.

Before my first TM attack I had a very full working week. I was brought up in a household with both parents in full time employment and my mother, in particular, worked very long hours doing two jobs. She owned her own commercial school, which opened in the evenings and on Saturdays, and during the day she taught at a local school. Later, during the recession, when the commercial school closed and reverted back to (our) house, she began working as a full-time-college lecturer. This was the pattern to which I was accustomed, and after college, I followed it without any real conscious decision.

My days and evenings were full. I was traveling between different schools, colleges and private houses, as well as taking part in rehearsals for productions of various sorts. As a professional singer and teacher of voice, it was a rewarding though often tiring existence.

ATM – After TM – I found myself existing in what I saw as a kind of vacuum. Days, even weeks, had passed quickly in my previous existence, but suddenly there were not only days to fill, but also minutes and even – horror – seconds! They dragged by while I took whole days trying to do what I had previously not even given attention to – so-called basic actions such as brushing my teeth, combing my hair, dragging myself around the house. Even using the computer was no longer a quick task. My typing skills had disappeared with my sense of touch and I now had to literally look at the keyboard to see where the letters were.

I’m six, nearly seven, years down the TM line now, and after another four attacks have found my biggest problem is boredom. My mind is slower, due in part to the medication but also to non-stimulation. Last night I was involved in a conversation about free will with my son-in-law, and though I found it refreshingly challenging, I was exhausted afterwards.

Last week our two seven-year-old twin grandchildren were staying with us. My Grandson is very intelligent and very quick physically; it was hard to keep up with him. For his mercurial nature, a five-minute period without some challenging activity left him with a scowl and “I’m bored” ringing on his lips!

I watched him and smiled.

~ Ruth Wood is a regular contributor for SRNA blog. Based in the UK, Ruth was diagnosed with TM in 2006. She now shares her personal stories with SRNA community.