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the most lonely thing about being an adult with a learning disability

your friends just don’t understand why you go through a job every two years.  They give suggestions and don’t see why you say it would be hard for you to do so and so.  You often can’t explain to them what you really mean.  You suffer in silence, wishing for an alternative world in which to live in, one that would where you didn’t have to struggle as much  and you wouldn’t feel like an outsider anymore.

They can’t understand how you can mess up answering a 4 line phone!  How could you keeep missing that little misplaced period at the bottom of the page when it has happened to you a 100 times now, how can you forget to correct it?  Worse, how could you have inserted that figure when it wasn’t even close to the right number, didnt you notice that?     What are you, stupid or something?  No wonder your boss is upset with you, you kind of deserve it, don’t you think.   And don’t you know you are wasting paper when you keep taking down notes on everything being said? Just put that pen down and listen, you’ll remember ! (ha ha ha).  And whats so hard about sorting through papers quickly and doing some math in your head and being able to answer the question RIGHT AWAY…why nothing, you reply.  You walk away and can’t wait to get home to your couch, to the safety of what ever it is you use to cope.

I hear you. I’ve been there too many times to count.  It will get better. Your brain will catch up one day.  You just have to hang on.  Don’t let whoever it is get to you, and take the best of you.  You have talents and strengths hidden deep inside, ones that  those people could never even fake, these strengths are yours alone.  You just need to keep searching for the outlet for them until you find it.  So what if you get fired, just keep looking for the next job.  Don’t give up.  Find a safe place to seek shelter in daily, and a safe way to console yourself, just don’t let any of them know where or what it is. Do something to heal that  doesn’t involve drowning your sorrows in vodka tonics or chocolate chip cookies.  Don’t give up.   Get a pet and take care of it, if you can.  If not, take care of someone -if only once a month-lend a hand.

I won’t tell you to keep a smile on your face, no, thats for when you can still muster a smile.  I realize you may not be in a place anymore where you can even fake it anymore.  The thing is: still, don’t give up.  If you choose to do anything, anything at all, choose to not give up.

 

 

 

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one of the worst things about unemployment

I am having the worst day so far.  I tried entering my time on my claim for unemployment. I worked a one day temp job and tried to dutifully report the income. The software, if anyone knows, for the unemployment website is so outdated, so unhelpful, and so damn confusing, that everytime I have to report a temp job–my entire claim  gets disrupted, I am denied further unemployment, and it takes days of calling and faxing information, for them to restart my claim. By that time, I have missed car and cell payments, and completely stressed out.

 

I also need to make a payment on my Dell account…their website seems to be down!  I called them and got put on hold to silence-I hung up and tried back twice-no agent.

 

I feel fat (am fat) today and my gym is a million miles away-doesn’t make sense to drive in this econmomy with gas prices rising.  Damn it!! My day hsa really gotten off to a rotten start.

 

Maybe if I eat breakfast and then exercise to a tape like a maniac and sweat it out and  take  ashower and start this day over I might feel better.  I’ll let you  know how it goes.

 

On the title

Everything you gave keeps coming back to me; I wonder if it’s the right title. I think it is. The pieces we give away to others very often are the things we should keep for ourselves, in order to empower ourself.  These best parts of us; we  simply are giving them away !   I want to capture some of my own best self-have  a record of it, of sorts.   A journal seems cumbersome, and I often lose track of important reflections or interesting thoughts.  Thus the electronic medium.

No one knows about this blog yet, and its is freeing to write under a semi cloak of anonymity, but part of my motivation for starting a blog was to let others know me a little better.  To broaden communication, lesson conflicts-real or imagined.  Actually, if I continue to be honest here, they might know better than I want them to know me.  I am going to advertise this blog on my FB page soon (me promises to me).

This is the dare of a blog.  At least it is for me, an extremely sensitive and introverted soul.

Sometimes when you are this introverted, you don’t get known.   This can happen in families, in a class, a group at work, in any situation where extroverts generally tend to take over the attention and sometimes dictate the way of the group.

I also have the odd habit, or defect, in which I sometimes say something, and I think that I have said everything I planned to in my thought, but actually only about half of the thought was verbalized.

This has caused many miscommunications and bad feelings, especially with the extroverts in my life.  Extroverts don’t have much patience to pick and sort through someone’s fractured misspoken edicts and mumblings.

I’ve been told that I have a learning disability too! This happened to me when I was in 5th grade and was brought to an antique and musty smelling row house in D.C where a psychologist tested my I.Q. with  a series of fill in the circle standardized tests.  I think there were also some jigsaw puzzles and colored blocks involved, but that part is hazy.

I don’t disagree that I am LD, don’t get me wrong.  I’ll be blogging a lot about that.  It’s that I feel LD has been so mucked up with the dawning of the age of the Attention Deficit Disorder, and Aspergers Spectrum, that a learning difficulty in one or two subjects such as math, has now been turned into a  much different type of stigma.  Stigmas are hard to avoid, but I hate being mislabeled.

That  last sentence was sort of a play on the whole labeling business of being called Learning Disabled.  However, I’m new to writing for an audience, so I am hoping people can see the humor in some of my writing, or perhaps, if you’re not sure,  just laugh when you want to and don’t worry about whether it was truly meant to be funny.  Laughter, for any reason, can be a good thing.

One of the times miscommunication certainly colored my world an unflattering and painful shade of gray, was the time I was around 11 or 12, and my entire family was sitting together at the dining room table, eating dinner.  It had been a pleasant dinner, a late Sunday afternoon in late spring in Maryland. It was warm outside and it felt good, the promise of summer just around the corner.  Baked chicken, peas, and something sweet for dessert contributed to an overall feeling of suburban  security, surrounded by family, no thoughts about difficult homework assignments or mean girls at school for the moment.  Unfortunately my Dad and brother started arguing, a chore had been left undone and my Dad was mad.  I can’t recall the exact way it happened, but I ended up accepting some sort of blame or rather trying to defend myself. I said “oh sure, blame it on the faggot!”   I had no idea what the term ‘Faggot” meant. I just thought it meant a loser or jerk.  My brother mistakenly thought I was saying he was to blame and that I was calling him a faggot.  He leapt over the table in a flash  and tried to grab me!  I managed to get away. I obviously didn’t have time to explain that I was referring  to myself, not him.  I had no clue how to verbally communicate the mistake.   The nice glow of the afternoon turned into a dismal swampy throat gulping feeling of regret.

Has anyone else ever had this type of miscommunication issues between family, especially with a sibling?

My first blog post, what do you think of it so far ?

It’s hard to start a blog.  At least, it is for me.  I’m always too worried about what other people think, so this often times stops me in my tracks.  Sometimes I get stopped in my tracks for years.    I choose the name of my blog from a Pearl Jam lyric; I was listening to Pandora while I was working on this.  But it’s turned out to not be such a random choice, because a lot of what I think about, and want to write about, are the people who made appearances in my life.

Isn’t everyone who starts a blog secretly hoping it will propel them into literary fame and fortune?  I am. Seriously, I do think most people, if not deep inside their subconscious, want to be writers-or creators of some sort.

A lot of my friends say they are not creative.  I don’t get how you can be human and not be creative. Aren’t we all making things up in our heads for ourselves  as we go along?  We think of reasons to get up in the morning, motivations for the activities we participate in, and excuses, lets not forget the excuses!  I think of a dozen a day for the things I do-why I didn’t say “I’m sorry”, why I couldn’t meet that person, or call this person, or simply why I didn’t ride my bike today  like I promised I would.

I promised myself that I would not turn this blog into a long rambling rant of my most banal and basic everyday thoughts, so I will stop with this post.

Hello world!

Welcome to WordPress.com. After you read this, you should delete and write your own post, with a new title above. Or hit Add New on the left (of the admin dashboard) to start a fresh post.

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