Thursday, July 16, 2015

Psych

 In elementary school, one of my teachers told my Mother that I had the 2nd highest IQ to ever come through that school.  I don't know who had the first highest.  During the time of the bullying in junior high, my parents sent me to a psychologist.  He may have been suggested by the school.  I remember the man giving me a test to see about my IQ.  I got every question right except one.  I didn't know that Goethe wrote "Faust".  So, he determined I was a genius.  That fact didn't help me with the girls, nor did it stop the bullying, but it was nice to know.  Based on his examination, my IQ was around 160.
 So, on to high school.  I really didn't care about school.  I never studied.  All I wanted to do was to go to speech tournaments and have fun.  In the 10th grade, things were not going too well.  I had been arrested by a store security guard for shoplifting a book.  I told him it was the first time, but I had done it many times before.  I was in a "club", where we tried to outdo the other.  At one time, a third of my record collection was stolen.  I mainly stole stuff like records, books, magazines, and toys.  Oh, and cigarettes out of people's cars.  I smoked the half-smoked cigarettes that I found in the student parking lot at the high school.  I was slowly losing my conscience.
 My parents sent me to a psychiatrist for evaluation.  I was put into group therapy with other high school students from the city.  My diagnosis was a schizoid personality.  There were other kids in the group far worse than me.  I was also in Boy Scouts at the time, and I felt that Scouting would be better for me than to sit in a room listening to strange stories about bizarre behavior.  After 10 months of group therapy, I asked to leave.  The psychiatrist told me to take my file to my family doctor, but not to open it.  Of course, you don't tell a kid not to open something, because he will open it, and I did.  I saw my evaluation.  It was about right.
 During my senior year of high school, I wrote an article for the school newspaper questioning one's permanent record.  All through school, we had been threatened with the line:  "This is going on your permanent record".  But, no one had ever seen their permanent record.  After my article ran in the paper, I got a note to see my guidance counselor.  She showed me my permanent record.  The only thing I saw was that they showed my IQ as 127.  So, somewhere between 160 and 127 is where I stand, I guess.  She also told me that, after taking a occupation test, I had the aptitude to be an auto mechanic.  I proved her wrong.

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