Tag: School

Behind the Mask

Oh, how’s school going, you ask? Well, it’s going. Now, I can sound professional, sophisticated, and scholarly easily. I’ve loved reading since I was old enough to do it, so I am articulate and have a large vocabulary. However, it is draining. There is a lot of masking going on (even with writing), and I just sit and stare at the screen when trying to write my papers and make myself come across as educated. It is really hard to unmask when you’re just used to the constant anxiety of trying to be “normal.” Mom was the only person I didn’t have to do that around. I miss that.

When I drop the act and start writing what comes to mind, I fly through my homework. I think it took me about 30 minutes to bang out a 5-page paper (which was supposed to be 3) after I started writing what came to me naturally. Sure, I sound simplistic and “young,” but that does not mean I don’t know what I’m talking about, and more importantly, people who read my papers will know what I’m talking about without needing to be familiar with the topic. That is important with essays. I have been told by several students that they enjoy reading my discussion posts, so that makes me smile 😊.

In my discussion post that asked me how Walt Whitman constructed images to express the nature of America, I wrote (in part): “I think Walt Whitman was a hippie before hippies existed.  At the very least, he had paganistic and naturalistic views and approaches to the world around him.  From his writings, he seemed to very much be a dancing-naked-under-the-full-moon type of guy.” Not exactly sophisticated, but that’s the first thing I thought of when reading Song of Myself, which is 52 pages/stanzas long and does not rhyme or make much sense (to me), btw. I’m glad we’re done with him and Dickinson. Frost, Pound, and Thomas are much more interesting to me. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night reminds me too much of my brother, though.

I think that is why so many people think autistic people are slow and have learning disabilities. Just because we think differently and arrive at the same conclusion via another path does not mean we are slow or uneducated. On the other hand, being autistic doesn’t mean we are like Rain Man. Most of us are bright with a higher score in a particular subject/topic, though the latter is not always the case. Not surprisingly, my highest score on the IQ portion of my eval was in reading and language. My ACTs reflected the same thing when I was a junior in high school.

I do have something coming up that I’m excited about and can’t wait to share here! Actually, I have three things coming up. First, we’re going to see Blue October again as an anniversary gift from a friend. The first time we saw them, I got autographs and cried in front of Justin, so he stood up and gave me a hug 🥰🥰. The second thing is the Eras Tour concert movie, complete with friendship bracelets Adam and I make! I hope the theater isn’t full of a bunch of stuck-up people who are above swapping bracelets because it’s not a “real concert.” Then, comes the “something coming up” 😊. Unfortunately, I have to wait more than a month for the last thing, and I am not a happy camper about that. With the strings being pulled for me, I can’t complain, really.

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Look What You Made Me Do

I restarted school this week, and jumped into full time, because…why not? Being a glutton for punishment, I chose Studies in Poetry and Intro to Philosophy. I like writing poetry, but I don’t like reading poetry, especially ones written by “the greats.” Why are they great? Emily Dickinson was a miserable, lovelorn woman who left her room only for social occasions (which is more than I can say for myself). I don’t know what she is writing about at any time. Robert Frost…I’m not sure I’ve read any of his work. The same goes for Walt Whitman. I think of chocolate when I think of Whitman.

I know the names but that is about it. I do like Poe’s work, but I don’t read it much because of the language barrier. I need things spelled out for me 95% of the time. I’m not a fan of non-rhyming poetry, which is apparently what my class is going to focus on. How is that a poem and not an essay or stream of consciousness? I can string words together as I think of them but I’m certainly not a poet. I was very drawn to Jewel’s poetry, and I don’t think she received the attention and notoriety that she deserved. I don’t know why I liked her stuff, but it’s possible that it was because she was new on the scene and I adored her debut album. I think her work is the only thing I have liked and related to that did not rhyme.

I’m pretty much kicking myself over choosing philosophy as an elective. I don’t understand a lot of things, philosophy included. I do have questions about everything and wonder about the same things philosophers wonder about, but I never know any answers. I ask Adam questions all the time about life and events and human behavior (the latter is more a sociology thing) but those questions stay between us for the most part. When I ask someone on the outside something, I get blank looks or laughter. Adam and Mom both get/got me and how my mind works. I hate looking and feeling stupid, which I’m sure most people do, so I keep things to myself or between my husband and me.

I am a junior in college now and am on my fourth major. I was doing great in school with a 4.0 GPA until my brother died unexpectedly a couple of weeks into a semester. I could not deal with his death, work, and school; it was just too much. Foolishly, I just left the classes without dropping them officially or talking to my student advisor or professors. Because of that dumb move, I received Fs for those classes instead of incompletes or withdrawals. I tried returning to school before I got my medications adjusted and ended up dropping out again because I did not like the classes I was taking and I didn’t like the major I switched to (marketing). More Fs. I’ve ruined my GPA by doing that, which I really hate and regret. It’s a B average, but I was previously making the Dean’s list every term.

I’ve always loved reading and writing, and everyone thought I would become an author, but I’ve not had the desire or motivation to write for years. I don’t know what happened, but it’s just not there. I have nothing simmering in my brain; no poems, no stories, no essays…nada. I am hoping the poetry class will ignite something since I’ve wanted to be an author since I was very, very young.

Not to say that my head is empty. I’m always thinking of things constantly, even when I don’t want to, like when trying to sleep or read or figure something out. It’s terrible thinking about stuff when I’m trying to read or do homework or work work! I just space out and completely gloss over what I’m reading or watching and I have to back up or stay lost.

People have no idea what it’s like to have ADHD, and for them to be so dismissive of it, to the point of some stating it doesn’t exist, is infuriating to me. It is not a lack of willpower and/or discipline; it is a very real disorder with very real chemical imbalances, and my husband could certainly attest to it. Oddly enough, I have the inattentive type and my brother had the hyperactivity type with some inattentiveness thrown in for good measure. We must have been hell on Mom growing up!

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