I am enrolled in finishing up my last degree.
Who am I kidding? I know me. I am addicted to education. Even though my brain is wonky. I am addicted to education. I guess there are worse things to be addicted to, right?
Things take me a bit longer than they used to, in terms of research and writing. I am not the Queen of research. I can’t just get on our university’s electronic library and search away; reading for hours. I literally cannot retain information that easy now. However, I try my damnest. Even if it means I reread the material by breaking it down like this
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I have to break up each line and reread it over and over five or six times.
By the way, that is the beginning to one of my favorite poems (A Dream withing a Dream, Edgar Allen Poe published in 1850).
I am literally five-weeks away from graduation. Yes, five. It is a feat for me. I am proud of my accomplishment considering the past couple years and all the shit I have been through. I even more proud considering I have been offered the opportunity for the office of disabilities to help me but I am not. I am doing it on my own terms. I am pushing myself. I am motivating myself to do it. My dissertation is NOT easy. I am not going to kid you. My research proposal is NOT easy. This is no joke.
My professor is privy to my brain injury, the events leading up to my brain injury and everything up to this point.
However, I have ran into an issue.
This is where I need some advice.
My academic advising team and everyone at the University that is important has seen the police reports, the court records, the medical documents and has the doctor’s documents stating my “disabilities” and the reasons for it. I don’t feel I should have to explain myself to my classmates.
I was in class and in discussion we were asked about a reading assignment given. It just happened to deal with domestic violence. However, the questions dealt with qualitative and quantitative data and how it applied to the reading. As well, a few other things about the particular article.
My answer was very brief. I have issues explaining things and typically don’t get called on to explain anything. I don’t typically don’t answer any questions or even respond to any questions. It is just who I have become. I am not THAT person anymore. Total opposite of who I used to be.
I stumble over my words when I start to get nervous if I don’t have notes or them written down. If I don’t have a power point, I am screwed. That is why if you ever watch one of my videos, you may see me look off screen because I am looking at my notes.
One of my classmates didn’t like my answer and asked me to explain it further. I choked. I got nervous. She asked to me explain why the qualitative and quantitative data was important to the particular study. I totally choked. I felt like I had to throw up. I felt like my heart was ready to come out of my chest. I felt like eye balls were going to come out of my head.
I have already had complaints because I wear my sunglasses in class and my companion attends class with me. I have already had complaints that my anxiety clicker is distracting to them. It is one of those counters that people use to count people. That is it. I use it when I start to feel nervous or my anxiety is high. I click it.
I do not want to tell any of my classmates I have TBI. I don’t want to tell them that I have an issue with explaining things or breaking things down or even doing things at normal speed. I don’t feel as if I should have to explain myself. This is not their business.
I have five more weeks. This means 15 more classes. Well, technically speaking 14 more classes.
How do I address this without coming off rude or bitchy or just outright being a cunt?
I don’t want to make others feel like I get some type of special pass. I don’t want others to feel like I have some type of special privilege. I hate those fuckers who have special privilege and use their disability as a method to get away with shit.
Joe does that and it pisses me off. I know plenty of scum bags who do that. It pisses me off.
How do I address it so I don’t come off as being bitchy but I want others to know that things take me a bit longer and that I do have a brain injury so some things are a bit harder for me. How do I this?