I've been told that the first step toward correcting a problematic behavior is admitting that the problem exists. Although I find this advice a bit too reminiscent of something I once heard on an episode of "Dr. Phil" - and more recently, from a friend recalling her "optional but highly recommended" meeting at Alcoholics Anonymous - here goes.
I, Stephanie Waties, hear voices in my head. I'm not talking about that plaguing duality of good and evil that is dramatized in what seems like every 1990s sitcom to grace Nick-at-Nite. I'm talking about the half-a-dozen or more whisperers that on any given day get into my head and mess everything up.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I have difficulty making decisions, from determining which politics classes I should take to what shirt I should wear each morning. Any decision, no matter how small, has the potential to become a mental list of pros and cons, which ordinarily, I have to deliver aloud while pacing back and forth and ultimately resolve by a long-distance phone call to my older sister.
Ask my mom and she'll say I was born this way. We've come to blame my zodiac sign and the fact that Libras, by nature, should never be expected to make up their minds, but this is more her rationalization than mine. One thing is certain though: It didn't come from her side of the family. Must be the trickling down of that infamous indecisive gene from my dad's side, along with thick hair and crooked teeth. I'm no rocket scientist - although in this instance, "geneticist" may be more apropos - but I'm not convinced.
But allow me to get back on track. It's possible that you've just learned more about me during these two minutes than most people have learned during the past two years, so let me be clear in one respect. I'm not crazy. I have no therapy sessions or prescription medications of which to speak.
I'm simply not afraid to admit that I care what people think. And throughout my 19 years, one of the only things helping me to decide life's important questions is the five or six important people in my life: family and friends. It is therefore no surprise to me that I constantly imagine what one or more of them would do in my place, should they encounter the dilemmas I do.
I refuse to believe that I am the only person like this. Honestly, who hasn't spent a half-hour standing in front of the open refrigerator, trying to decide what to eat for dinner? Or the first two weeks of school dropping and adding classes to their schedule? Someone who simply is not looking at the big picture. What is the purpose of being able to text photos from your cell phone if not to ask someone else whether they like your red or black shirt best?
My problem may not be the crystal meth addiction you might have been looking to read about at the beginning of this column, but it's important nevertheless. All too often, I find myself having a Michael Jackson moment. No, I don't mean a temporary fascination with little boys -
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