Me at the end of winter . . . . . . . . . . .heheheheheh
Am I Crazy? Wintering here in Antarctica? Well even with the motivation to do it, things were out of my control. First I had to pass additional physical requirements, dental, blood, X-ray's, and the constant questions of "why" and doubt filled "Are you sure?" I know I do things on a whim, that's how I ended up here for one, but winter holds so many answers for me that not too just seems foolish.
So with my mind made up and a clean bill of suitable health, I now had to face the hardest part . . . . myself. The psych test is a self examination that other's critique to see inside and determine your level of saneness. It is like looking into a mirror and talking to yourself, asking all the hard hitting questions that you spend most of your time avoiding, and then wonder if the audience watching from behind the two-way think you're crazy. Don't the crazy ones think they're not crazy?
When the psych team arrived, you could feel the tension from the possible winter overs as they heard the news. There is nothing like having someone else in control of your perception of sanity. The rumors were that the test was 700 questions, followed by a hard hitting rapid fire oral interview. We pressed and pumped previous test takers for sample questions and possible passing techniques all the while searching for hints that we ourselves were confident and normal. Were we really sane?
Still with sweaty palms and constant doubt, we filed into the large conference room and took a seat. Glancing at one another, we were already wondering if the seat we chose was part of the test. Had we just made our first fatal mistake in sitting down?
There were actually 689 questions combined with the 2 tests. Good old fill in the bubbles was a flash back to college and the one skill that still comes in handy today. Questions ranged from "do you love your father" to "do you think you are demon possessed?" Some questions made you laugh out loud, while other's had you covering up your answers.
We were called out during the testing time for our interview, where it turned into part job interview part police interrogation. With questions like do you drink, why do you want to winter, will you come back to the ice, have you ever killed anyone, done drugs or been fired from a job. The man behind the desk hardly looked up from his clip board as he propelled question after question at me. At times I was saying yes before he had even finished. When this happened he would glance up and I'd blush, ducking my head and refuse to look at him. The whole time you're wondering, does that make me insane, will that make me fail, why does he get to ask all the questions? With a wrap up of a few scribbled notes that you wish dearly to be able to see and a split second pause, you are released from the room and allowed to return to your bubbles as the next victim is called in.
One fellow test taker leaned over upon my return, commenting "That was fast." I looked at him and shrugged. Was that a good or bad I wondered? It did help that I didn't drink or do drugs so half the questions did not apply to me. Three hours later I broke free into the coldness outside, head aching, heart racing, palms slick with sweat and ran back to my dorm looking over my shoulder the whole time wondering if they were going to come take me away. Was I really crazy? Could A and B bubbles really determine that? I could only work and wait.
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