A few months ago, I said two phrases in the same sentence to my GP that one should never say to a doctor. “Frequent, sharp headaches” and “short-term memory issues.” In 10 minutes, I had an appointment for an MRI and a referral to a neurologist. The neurologist pretty promptly ruled out any type of early onset dementia, but said he suspected ADD, so he referred me to a neuropsychologist who did a battery of tests on me and decreed that my memory issues were due to A) sleep issues (as in, I wasn’t), B) some somatic issues, C) fibromyalgia, and D)…I’m really not trying to be funny when I say I can’t remember D, but I honestly don’t remember what D was. He also made some off the cuff comment that I did better on most of the tests than even he could, and he knows all the answers, but, you know, if I wanted a copy of my results, I was welcome to send in my application for Mensa.
At which I laughed. Loudly. Guffawed, really.
When I was in second grade, I tested as gifted. An IQ number was given to my mother, but she would never tell me what it was – I just didn’t need to know. At 35, after a quietly spoken number cut through my laughter, I sat there slackjawed. The neuropsychologist also said that, while my tests didn’t indicate any signs of ADD, those tests were typically unreliable on gifted people. My self-report, however, one of those fill-in-the-bubble type tests that took two hours of consciously forcing myself to be honest and own up to what I see as shortcomings, was a strong indicator for ADD, so he was very comfortable making that diagnosis.
A couple of days ago, a friend of mine, RainJelly, posted a link to Tales of an Absent-Minded Superhero on Facebook. I liked the page, and noted the name of the book the page’s author, Stacey Turis, had written titled Here’s to Not Catching Our Hair on Fire: An Absent-Minded Tale of Life with Giftedness and Attention Deficit – Oh Look! A Chicken! (which is a completely awesome title for a book on SO MANY LEVELS!).
I’ve talked before about some of my troubles with an odd kind of shyness and what I thought was behind my own personal quirks. But there are bits of this book that just…woah. That’s ME! See, Stacey refers to herself as “twice-exceptional,” meaning she has that dual diagnosis of giftedness and ADD. So far, it is absolutely shocking to my system to hear someone else put into such fitting words what I have felt for years. For example:
When I’m not at 100 percent mentally or emotionally and unable to block things out, I also pick up on feelings that aren’t directed toward me, but to another person, thought, or idea, which sucks because I can’t distinguish between any of them. I’m like a radar gun picking up every wave in my range. Beep. Beep. Beep. As you can imagine, I basically walk in a world of constantly thinking, “What’s wrong with so-and-so? Did I do something to blah, blah, blah?”
But here was the kicker. For, right here, in this one big long paragraph (which I’m breaking into bits on my own for ease of reading), is ME, all summed up:
I’ve always felt misunderstood. Though I was never at a loss for friends, I was always told I was weird, which I was totally OK with. Weird is a compliment, I think. I just didn’t really understand what people thought was weird about me. It could have something to do with the following, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.
Thanks to my two gifts, I have a tendency to be anxious and depressed. I’m completely overtaken by the moods of others. I procrastinate. I can’t pay bills or keep track of finances, and I have no emotional ties to money.
I don’t put effort into relationships, except for those with people who have grown to accept me and don’t try to change me. I don’t bond easily with most people. I constantly stress myself out trying to help everyone except myself. I feel a connection with nature in my bones, but almost to the point of pain. I get in a funk where I feel dead inside. I’m easily overwhelmed. I don’t like to be touched. The sound of a telephone makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
I have a horrendous temper and can snap but then forget about it five seconds later. I have horrible word recall. I often forget what I’m talking about midsentence and have to ask the dreaded, “Uh…what were we talking about?” I don’t pay attention to getting to my destination when I drive and have ended up in the wrong state more than once.
I love animals so much it can be painful, and I have the chips in my teeth from grinding them to prove it. I’m emotionally and physically affected by the sadness and heartbreak of others.
I can barely sit still to watch TV, except for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia or my favorite paranormal show, Destination Truth. (Call me, Josh Gates. Your show is my new dream job!) Unfortunately, I never remember what day or time they’re on, so, thank you, DVR! Overhead lights bother me. A ceiling fan on my skin makes me crazy. Strong odors can make me throw up.
I can’t make casual conversation on the phone; there has to be a purpose, such as scheduling. “What time do ya want to meet? Two o’clock? OK, bye.” I sometimes don’t understand people if they speak too fast, and then I have to read their lips, which can be awkward for everyone involved. I can’t maintain eye contact during a conversation, and if I try to, I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my head. According to my hubby, I “have no regard for safety.” There’s more…a lot more, actually, but I think I’ll let you discover some for yourself. A girl has to stay somewhat mysterious, you know!
99.5% of that is me. Except for me, ceiling fans and strong odors = the feel and odor of newspaper, Destination Truth and It’s Always Sunny = Bones and currently Ghost Adventurers, and my dark funks aren’t nearly as dark as hers appear to be (then again, as you read the book, you start to figure out where her dark place comes from).
I’m four chapters in and, already, I’m so glad I have found this book. Because it’s always nice to know there’s someone out there like you, no matter how weird, quirky, exceptional, anxious, depressed, scatterbrained, and awkward you are. It’s also nice to see what you’ve felt for so many years be put into the words you’ve never quite been able to find.