PCR - a disease that has always afflicted me

Post-Conversation Remorse...

I have suffered from this disease from the time I started forming words. You might think the symptoms would lessen over time or that one might become accustomed to them, but anyone who suffers from this illness realizes that the pain is the same with each onset. I am not sure the prognosis, but I do know that there is hope for a cure.

There are times when I am stricken with PCR and have to take immediate action (ie. phone calls, emails, letters to apologize for foolishly speaking) and there are other times when I just pray that people are able to overlook my words and maybe they will actually forget them. Sometimes this disease keeps me up at night, lamenting my choice of words or my inability to contain opinion and restrain insufficient attempts at wit. This disease does not only strike after face to face conversations, but thanks to this technological age it can occur after email, blogging, and even worse, instant message. You would think that forming thoughts into type might encourage one to slow down and reconsider but most of the time I just become more bold without restriction of seeing a face.

I had a brief period of remission during college when a close friend of mine used to remind me that I need only close my mouth to keep words from falling out of it. It is difficult for me to use that bit of medication on my own, thus I have returned to my open-mouthed ways. There have also been times when I have worked on the discipline of silence or at least less words than I am usually accustomed and during these times the sting of PCR has lessened. But so far, all of my attempts have been short-lived and it takes only a little while before it comes upon me having misspoke, overspoke, or spoke out of turn.

There are good days and bad days with this disease. Sometimes I pride myself on the restraint I have shown or the fact that maybe once I allowed someone else to do most of the talking. But on the bad days the words have exploded out of my mouth like fierce diarrhea. Yesterday was a bad day. The first onslaught found me needing to delve out an immediate apology and the second episode merely ensured that I would not be sleeping until I had replayed every idiotic morsel of thought that escaped out of my mouth before I was able to snap my jaws shut.

Sometimes I soothe myself thinking that maybe God created me to be this way - bold, energetic, and outgoing, but the reality is that even though my personality is prone to be bold, there is still a level of discipline and wisdom that must be exercised. Perhaps this curse will lessen as I grow older and more wise. Maybe someday I will go to bed after social interactions without questioning myself or wishing that I hadn't spent my words so foolishly. But for now I will continue treating it as best I know how - preventatively, reminding myself that I mustn't speak unless I feel it beneficial to do so and retroactively, by apologizing and cleaning up the mess I have left behind.

If you too suffer from PCR, then know that there is hope.

Epilogue: I wrote this one day last week. Nate didn't really like it that much. He says I am not that bad (and I don't think he thought it was funny at all). Even if the things I say aren't that bad, it's the fact that I stew over them so long. And, even if it isn't that funny I had a spare 1/2 hour and I was stewing over the fact that I stew.....there you have it.