Archive for November, 2011

Why I Skipped my High School Reunion

November 27, 2011

Earlier this month, I learned of a high school reunion.  I chose not to attend.  Here’s why: I don’t like how I was treated in those years. As I write about elsewhere, my high school told us if we weren’t good at sports, we didn’t matter.  It was dehumanizing.  I also didn’t wish to hear people bragging about their accomplishments–really fishing for compliments.  No thanks.


NLD, Setbacks, and Family Challenges

November 27, 2011

So right now, like many people, the economic crash has really limited my job prospects, and forced me to postpone some of my goals, hopes, and dreams.  The dream, for instance, to live on my own.  Before my diagnosis, NLD (and depression) took about six years of my life, where I lived in reduced capacity to enjoy life or be productive.  I currently work in two jobs, neither of which captures my strengths or talents.  I’m deeply grateful for any paid work, but have always believed a job should both help others and be intellectual.

Due to the economy and paying for NLD- and/or depression-related mistakes, I do not yet make enough to live alone.  I’m now stuck living with someone who doesn’t work, is often messy, has addiction problems, and isn’t looking for work.  I feel anguish when I’m home, and then beat myself up, figuring if I didn’t have NLD, maybe I’d be on my own.  I carry stress in my back muscles, and feel disappointment that college didn’t bring the independence I planned for.  I’m doing the best I can, but I want much more from life, so I try to dream each day about my goals.  I have many.

NLD and Inner Denial

November 27, 2011

Again, much apology for my lack of time, and fewer posts.  Today I wanted to talk about a thought pattern I often find myself in.  I’ll think things like: “I don’t have NLD,” or “I can be neurotypical,” or “I know how to make up for my NLD challenges.”  Then I’ll either have an NLD moment, such as a visual-spatial mistake, or a mistake in my communication, and NLD comes back and slaps me on the head.  I can’t get away from it.  I also can’t help the NLD-related anxiety–a painful sort that pinches me each day, as I worry about starting conversations, being spoken to, not knowing what to say, having speech issues, et cetera.  Here’s what would help: more mainstream awareness of what it’s like to live with spatial challenges.  People could interview us about what would have helped when we were younger (if we’re adults).  I hope to someday help train people to more effectively be supportive to those with NLD, and related struggles.