It's that time of year again. That time when things pile up until you can barely breath, and then finals are over. It's a very stressful time for me and countless other students, and I swear it takes a few years off my life. This year, however, has been the most difficult since my freshman year here at Gettysburg. No matter how many times I sit down and make a to-do list, I always forget to look at it, check it off, and when I do, I find that one out of a gazillion things able to be scratched off. Talk about frustrating.
Why the title of this blog is Scatterbrain is because that's what I am. It's been something I have struggled with since I was little, and that one day it became apparent to me that I was, indeed, a little disorganized.
It was the day I failed my first math test in 3rd grade. I had been such a spectacular students (or I felt like one, at the time) and I understood everything that was given to me. Then, the wall. The wall of mathematics that suddenly went WAY over my head. I tried as hard as I could to get things right, to work on it, but it wasn't connecting. I was horribly embarrassed and frightened, and I remember seeing commercials for the new movie Radio. I connected with it, for some reason, and I always told my mother that I felt like I was Radio. I felt like something was wrong with me.
When I was in 5th grade, I was finally tested for a learning disability. I remember sitting in a small colorful room with Dr. Kym as he asked me questions and quizzed me on certain things and talked to me about how I manage school. I told him honestly, I struggled to focus, as if I was fighting against an invisible brick wall. Numbers might as well be a different language. I was diagnosed with ADD, without the H. Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder. I was able to sit still, but still faced some sluggish tendencies of the battle to pay attention. This disorder has been the butts of many jokes and sometimes has been misdiagnosed, but when is anything in science and study perfect? In all honesty, it's not funny. When people laugh about "Oh man, you're so ADD. Oops! Had an ADD moment, sorry", it isn't funny. It's something that people struggle with every day of their lives. And I'm one of them.
I was put on Adderall, but I felt as though it took away a huge part of who I am-- my creativity. I loved to paint, to draw and to creatively write, and this medication took all desire to do so away. I was regimented and structured. I felt like I put myself inside the lines, but I wasn't happy. I could focus but I felt a piece of myself missing. Feeling like I needed to make an 'adult' call, I talked to my doctor and told him I didn't want to be on it anymore. He listened to me talk, which to this day I appreciate. I was 11 or 12, and he treated me like my opinion mattered.
Freshman year of high school was another hard year for me. Math, my God. It shouldn't even be in a curriculum for students who aren't going into that field. I used to joke "When am I going to have to know Trig out of a battlefield tour?" and my favorite math teacher would say, "Em, lemme tell ya' something... the North won." and we'd both laugh. I skimmed through high school with enough focus to get by with decent grades, even with major surgery. When I found Gettysburg College, I busted my butt to get in here because I knew I belonged there. A world of Civil War scholars on a battlefield? Count me in!
What I didn't know was how hard Gettysburg truly is. Granted, they warn you. They really, really do. "A highly selective" liberal arts school means the best of the best come here, and I have always known that I am not one of them. Freshman year was hard, and I helplessly watched as my grades slowly began to fall one point after the other. After coming back from a Spanish class with my professor saying, "Emma, I don't know why you're not understanding this. There is no other way for me to explain it to you. Why isn't it sticking?" I knew I needed some help to get myself back on track and produce the work I knew I was capable of.
Now, two years later and a new medication, I still battle every day with what I call "the fuzz". It's a constant film over my thought process that medication helps me take away. I am able to get up and do work, but sometimes it fades. I still battle with distractions and other things I would rather be doing. I get bored with classes I don't like, which is another battle in itself the higher the education level goes.
The saying "Just do it" is hard for me to hear because sometimes, people can't. They can't do it through the fuzz. They can't just sit down and not have their thoughts fly in a million directions. And that's OKAY. There is nothing wrong with that. I am scatterbrained. I forget things, I take forever to read a book. Papers freak me out and projects always seem too big but I know that if I keep pushing, this will not define me. I do not want to be scatterbrained, even though I am. I strive to learn around my flaw that many people don't even know I have. I taught myself a new system of organization that I've even shared with some of my professors to help myself organize. I freeze when things pile up or when I'm faced with thoughts of my future. But I am still going. Sure, I may fall asleep after my medication wears off. Usually people don't notice unless they know. After 12 hours, I'm exhausted. I'm not lazy. I don't like sleeping so much. But I'd rather take the exhaustion and the fuzz-free day than be able to stay up late, do half the work I could have, and fight through the fuzz.
In the end, this semester has taught me that even though it may seem hard right now with countless pages, research, and finals ahead of me, I have overcome before. I got here, didn't I? So I can get to other places, even being scatterbrained.
My ADD doesn't define me. It makes the wonderful little person we call "Emma".
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Twenty-One
On Wednesday, November 13th, I will be turning twenty-one.
I know this blog is usually things I reflect on or ponder, and for the past week I have had a million things to ponder. How will I write this paper? How am I going to do this presentation? How will I spend time with my house? How will I spend time with my boyfriend? Family? Friends? Where am I going this summer? What do I want to do with my life? When will I get my room organized? Why does it always take forever for me to do laundry? Why does purple make-up always make my eyes burn?
Despite the randomness of my thoughts, some of these points stick out more than others. For example, my upcoming summer. I want to intern at one park, but one park might not want me. From my gathered knowledge, many OTHER parks want me to intern for them. While grappling with what I want to do verses what I should do, it all boils down to now being an adult. I'll be of legal age to drink after the 13th... so now I'm an adult? How is that right?
What I've come to realize is that birthday's do not mean you'll change overnight. The only thing that changes is the number and for me, the fact that I can drink. Change doesn't come with the stroke of midnight, and it takes time to happen. On every birthday since I was 18, I have learned that it takes time. Takes time to what? That's what life is to decide.
On the night before my 18th birthday, my sister and I sat up to watch the clock hit midnight. We would finally be a legal adult and no longer a minor, and for me, that was a big deal. I had a guy I was head over heels in love with constantly telling me I needed to turn 18 for us to date. He was a few years older than me, which made that requirement understandable. But for me, it was something more. I thought once I turned 18, I would have a revelation in my life and would change into this beautiful, attractive, sexy and desired woman once the clock stroked twelve. I literally held my breath as my computer clock hit midnight.
At 12:01, I didn't feel any different. Nothing had changed, and no message of saying, "Oh yes, Emma, I want to be with you!" came to me. I was stunned, but now looking back, I laugh. I wanted change so badly that I thought it would be easy. Nothing in life is easy, 18-year-old self. Things are hard, and you have to fight through them. That night I could barely talk because of spacers in my teeth for my 3rd set of braces. Now, years later, I have the joy of a retainer and lovely straight teeth. YEARS LATER. Just like braces, it takes time to change into the straight perfection we all crave, and sometimes perfection isn't achieved. I have some space still between my teeth, but they look wonderful, so what's the problem? What's the problem with not being ready? I wasn't ready for a serious relationship at 18. I wasn't ready for the change of adulthood yet, either. And even at 21, I'm not so sure I'm ready for adulthood.
But that's the beauty of change. It doesn't come when you're not ready. Doesn't even come when you're ready! It comes when you're not even looking. This upcoming decision for my summer won't come when I'm sitting at the computer biting my nails wondering and hoping and PRAYING that an answer will fall out of the sky. It'll come when I've had a rough day and I'm overwhelmed or when it's been a wonderful day and I've been productive. In both scenarios, I'm just taking my life one day at a time. I'm successful in the sense that I got up and faced the day. Some days it's hard, and others I'm bounding for the door. But with every day that I go and live my life, I'm changing. Not drastically and not over night, but I'm maturing into the adult I want to be. I'm learning lessons, both academically and socially. I am learning about myself and my limitations that I can take into the workforce or future education opportunities. I am learning that I care deeply for my friends and that's okay; they care about me too. I am learning that a relationship isn't easy, but the purest, deepest love helps work things out, even if it takes a month. If you really love someone, you'll work through it all. Fight and yell at each other, but then say "I'm sorry" to each other and admit to your faults.
B and I had been struggling for the past few weeks on quality time and communication. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be in the library all the time on the weekends instead of spending the day with me. The work wouldn't be due for days, even weeks! But he couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him work. A vicious cycle of trying to fit together with our passion for knowledge but our want of quality time didn't work for almost a month. Change didn't come until we weren't looking. A casual conversation on the upcoming week turned into a life changing heart to heart that struck both of us to the core. Since that day, we have been working together beautifully, and have returned to the working machine of a relationship.
But that wasn't at the stroke of midnight. It wasn't even a birthday. It was just a day after we grew and learned the hard way.
To my many birthday buddies, have a wonderful birthday. I'll be toasting you with my first legal glass of wine... or Jameson, or something.
~E
I know this blog is usually things I reflect on or ponder, and for the past week I have had a million things to ponder. How will I write this paper? How am I going to do this presentation? How will I spend time with my house? How will I spend time with my boyfriend? Family? Friends? Where am I going this summer? What do I want to do with my life? When will I get my room organized? Why does it always take forever for me to do laundry? Why does purple make-up always make my eyes burn?
Despite the randomness of my thoughts, some of these points stick out more than others. For example, my upcoming summer. I want to intern at one park, but one park might not want me. From my gathered knowledge, many OTHER parks want me to intern for them. While grappling with what I want to do verses what I should do, it all boils down to now being an adult. I'll be of legal age to drink after the 13th... so now I'm an adult? How is that right?
What I've come to realize is that birthday's do not mean you'll change overnight. The only thing that changes is the number and for me, the fact that I can drink. Change doesn't come with the stroke of midnight, and it takes time to happen. On every birthday since I was 18, I have learned that it takes time. Takes time to what? That's what life is to decide.
On the night before my 18th birthday, my sister and I sat up to watch the clock hit midnight. We would finally be a legal adult and no longer a minor, and for me, that was a big deal. I had a guy I was head over heels in love with constantly telling me I needed to turn 18 for us to date. He was a few years older than me, which made that requirement understandable. But for me, it was something more. I thought once I turned 18, I would have a revelation in my life and would change into this beautiful, attractive, sexy and desired woman once the clock stroked twelve. I literally held my breath as my computer clock hit midnight.
At 12:01, I didn't feel any different. Nothing had changed, and no message of saying, "Oh yes, Emma, I want to be with you!" came to me. I was stunned, but now looking back, I laugh. I wanted change so badly that I thought it would be easy. Nothing in life is easy, 18-year-old self. Things are hard, and you have to fight through them. That night I could barely talk because of spacers in my teeth for my 3rd set of braces. Now, years later, I have the joy of a retainer and lovely straight teeth. YEARS LATER. Just like braces, it takes time to change into the straight perfection we all crave, and sometimes perfection isn't achieved. I have some space still between my teeth, but they look wonderful, so what's the problem? What's the problem with not being ready? I wasn't ready for a serious relationship at 18. I wasn't ready for the change of adulthood yet, either. And even at 21, I'm not so sure I'm ready for adulthood.
But that's the beauty of change. It doesn't come when you're not ready. Doesn't even come when you're ready! It comes when you're not even looking. This upcoming decision for my summer won't come when I'm sitting at the computer biting my nails wondering and hoping and PRAYING that an answer will fall out of the sky. It'll come when I've had a rough day and I'm overwhelmed or when it's been a wonderful day and I've been productive. In both scenarios, I'm just taking my life one day at a time. I'm successful in the sense that I got up and faced the day. Some days it's hard, and others I'm bounding for the door. But with every day that I go and live my life, I'm changing. Not drastically and not over night, but I'm maturing into the adult I want to be. I'm learning lessons, both academically and socially. I am learning about myself and my limitations that I can take into the workforce or future education opportunities. I am learning that I care deeply for my friends and that's okay; they care about me too. I am learning that a relationship isn't easy, but the purest, deepest love helps work things out, even if it takes a month. If you really love someone, you'll work through it all. Fight and yell at each other, but then say "I'm sorry" to each other and admit to your faults.
B and I had been struggling for the past few weeks on quality time and communication. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be in the library all the time on the weekends instead of spending the day with me. The work wouldn't be due for days, even weeks! But he couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him work. A vicious cycle of trying to fit together with our passion for knowledge but our want of quality time didn't work for almost a month. Change didn't come until we weren't looking. A casual conversation on the upcoming week turned into a life changing heart to heart that struck both of us to the core. Since that day, we have been working together beautifully, and have returned to the working machine of a relationship.
But that wasn't at the stroke of midnight. It wasn't even a birthday. It was just a day after we grew and learned the hard way.
To my many birthday buddies, have a wonderful birthday. I'll be toasting you with my first legal glass of wine... or Jameson, or something.
~E
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