My Difficult Relationship With Mathematics

Shortly before saving and publishing the first draft of this post, I realized I wasn't being honest. It's not like I took a vow of honesty prior to starting this blog, but... this is something I need to be truthful about.

I recently took some time off from working through calculus again on Math Academy ¹. Well, okay, three months. And yesterday I mentally slumped in defeat, returned to the site, and took the placement exam.

I said "mentally slumped in defeat," but that's not right. I fucked up, and yesterday, I admitted it on some level. But subconsciously. I slumped in abject shame. This blog post is the rest of that admission, the conscious and public part.

The placement exam told me I needed to do large chunks of calculus again. I knew that. Because I fucked up.

My first draft centered, as the title might suggest, on my history with mathematics in an educational setting. TL;DR: It was bad. Bad enough that I'm not entirely sure how I graduated high school. Bad enough that it took me three or four tries (I can't remember for sure) to pass Calculus. Bad enough that I still doubt whether I really earned my grade in my Applied Statistics for Engineers class, the last and most challenging math class of my Computer Science degree.

I don't remember a time when I ever paid attention in class. I have ADHD. And I've blamed ADHD, and blamed my mother and my teachers and the school district for not having me tested. But my son has ADHD, and he still gets his books out and tries to do his homework. I never did that. My son, at sixteen, with additional learning challenges I never had, is far ahead of where I was at his age. And is probably far ahead of where I am now.

I started using Math Academy last year as part of my midlife crisis. Basically, I've decided that I'm not living up to my potential, the same conclusion that everyone around me reached when I was in the fourth or fifth grade. And I was benefiting a lot from it, and then, as we've established, I fucked up.

How did I fuck up? I focused on speed rather than comprehension. I avoided reading. I avoided writing down laws, theorems, formulae, and derivations. And I cheated.

I started cheating by double-checking my answers using online tools before I submitted them. The goal was to prevent re-work, since Math Academy penalizes wrong answers by assigning extra problems. I allowed a couple of questionable cases, where the wording wasn't perfect or a validation function was a little too strict, to take over my mind, to make me resentful, to view the relationship as oppositional rather than collaborative.

I set goals for myself in terms of points per day. This meant that, if I got a question wrong and missed the bonus points for that lesson or review, I viewed that as time stolen from me. So I felt justified in double-checking my answers so that as little time would be "stolen" from me as possible.

The next step was to look up things on the fly. If I forgot a cosine law, or the product law, or whatever, I would flip back to that section. Math Academy makes this straightforward. But you can't do that during a university exam. You can't do it during an interview. And I shouldn't've allowed myself to do it, not without acknowledging that it is problematic and taking additional steps to correct the problem, i.e. doing additional problems to build understanding.

I started cheating on quizzes, too; because if you get a question wrong on the quiz, you get extra review assignments to complete about the questions you got wrong. I viewed that as more time being taken from me, rather than the logically necessary additional practice that my mistakes and lack of comprehension warranted. "What's the point of quizzes?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

Shortly after that started, I became discouraged. It was a struggle to keep going. I didn't feel like I was learning anything anymore. And so I stopped doing it at all.

Is that just about the stupidest thing you've ever heard? It's really, really stupid, and I'm deeply ashamed of it.

I started smoking cigarettes when I was 19, and mostly quit (with a few brief, occasional lapses) when I was 31. I haven't smoked a cigarette in several years now. I'm very proud of that fact. But I'm also deeply, deeply ashamed of things I did and said when I was trying and failing to quit smoking. I did foul, disgusting things for the feeling that nicotine gave me.

But it's not just nicotine... I'm willing to lie to myself about all sorts of things to make myself feel better. I'll make any excuse. I'll take any out. I'll cut any corner. I still try to avoid discomfort, and I'll lie to myself or anyone around me to do so.

So now I have to back up quite a bit and do some things over again, and this time do it right. It's kind of the story of my life at this point.