Scatterbrained

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".