this is an update instead of a link roundup.

  1. The past month has been weird.
  2. My 89-year-old grandfather had a heart attack. I went home for three days. He is, shockingly, basically fine now.
  3. I am now on the writing staff for Limelight Magazine, which covers the local St. Louis theatre scene and it is kind of a dream come true.
  4. A Most American Terrorist: The Making of Dylann Roof by Rachel Kaadzi Ghansah, GQ.
  5. Next month I am traveling to Reno, NV to visit my best friend and we have almost no plans except gin drinking and shoe buying.
  6. Shocker, having my ADHD meds get messed up by both insurance and my pharmacy and therefore delayed for several weeks makes things hard; I couldn’t figure out why I was exhausted and foggy all the time for no reason until I realized that it was not for no reason. (Everyone, do better than me to stay on your meds).
  7. A real and lovely Facebook post on whiteness, racism, and the LGBT community in St. Louis by Keith Rose.
  8. I am having a bout of relatively minor hormonal acne and though it is nothing like the horrific and borderline-disfiguring cysts I had as a teenager before I took Accutane, it hurts and is a major annoyance.
  9. Life happened the way life happens and as soon as I decided to start freelancing For Real This Time, I got promoted to full time at my job so now I have that, writing gigs, and school on top of the high level of general maintenance my life and brain require.
  10. I continue to spend many, many nights that I don’t work at The Gin Room inside of Natasha’s Cafe and it is probably my favorite place to be in the entirety of St. Louis, second maybe to the room in the Central Library where they keep all the play scripts and magazines.
  11. This blog has two (!) new logos by Tayyba Khawaja and I have some cool new headshots by Logan Corry.
  12. I think my cat is mad at me for being out of the house too much.
  13. My chiropractor told me that my boobs are slowly giving me scoliosis and pulling my shoulder out of socket, so there’s that delightful bit of news about existing in the world with a body.
  14. I’m really, really tired.

How have you been, friends and weirdos?

too smart for my own good: growing up twice exceptional and girl.

Shout out to the girls who were too smart for your own good, you just need to try harder, boys don’t like you because you use big words, you’ll understand when you’re older. The girls that started out Hermione Granger, grew up to be Laura Wingfield. The girls in schools where forgetting to turn in your homework with every question right wasn’t the same as not sitting still in class, sensitive and anxious and lonely wasn’t the same as can’t make eye contact so you never got a diagnosis. Your parents and teachers saw so much potential they couldn’t see what was keeping it from showing on your report card.

In second grade, I took a test that told me I was reading at a college level. Later, took another test that told the school district I could join the gifted program. Another test convinced Beloit College to overlook my two-point-something-something GPA and never materialized final high school transcript. I could always pass tests.

No one ever thought I was “hyperactive,” but I did dance, swimming, gymnastics, cheerleading, soccer, softball, art classes, horseback riding, Girl Scouts, and clubs and clubs and clubs. Over the summer I would lose contact with the few friends I had made that school year and, after coming home from one day camp or another, check out dozens of books from the library, reading more than one a day, reading all night. Every summer since both series ended I re-read all seven Harry Potters and re-watched all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls. Rory and Hermione weren’t afraid to be the smartest person in the room and they both turned out ok.

I went through these phases where I couldn’t bear to stray from a single topic. Once it was outer space. Once it was ancient Egypt. Once it was dance history. Once it was Spring Awakening. I couldn’t stand not knowing everything about the things I loved but learning something I was bored of or never understood was torture. No one ever figured out that I hadn’t understood a math class since first grade.

This February, I dropped out of school (bipolar). Last April, I dropped out of school (depression). The March before, I dropped out of school (cytomegalovirus). Junior year of high school, I started taking classes online because leaving the house everyday to go somewhere I hated was too hard. Seventh grade, I switched from a Catholic K-8 to a public middle school. Third grade, I did the opposite. Sixth grade, I never got my spring report card after missing 3 straight weeks for a migraine that wouldn’t end.

What’s the difference between a temper tantrum and a panic attack? Where’s the line between bratty and bossy and impaired social functioning? How far is disobedience from executive dysfunction?

Continue reading “too smart for my own good: growing up twice exceptional and girl.”