My Brain

I've come to the conclusion that I am weird.

I write, and because of that, I have this weird, creative brain that doesn't work like everyone's.

It has taken me a while, but I am finally comfortable in my own skin, weird, creative, hard-wired for weirdness that it is.

If you can't deal with it, I really don't have the time or patience to help you along to the point that you can deal with it.

Sorry.  That's just how it is.

A few weeks back, my mom and I were chatting on the phone, and she was telling me about this individual that she works with that drives everyone around them CRAZY.  The capital emphasis was, indeed, on purpose.

However, she informed me, as soon as she realized that his brain, and I quote, "worked just like yours, I realized how I needed to interact with him."

Isn't that nice that she was able to figure out how his brain worked.  It's what we teachers are trained to do.  Figure out how kids' brains work, and then teach to those inner-workings. Some of us are better at it than others, but it doesn't necessarily take a Bachelor's and a Master's degree(s) to figure this out.

Sometimes, I think it just takes a keen observer.  Again, some of us are better at it than others.

My brain works differently than most.  I am not saying it works better or worse than others.  I am just saying it works differently.  And to try to describe that to someone is nigh unto impossible, for one because I cannot properly articulate it without coming off sounding insane or egoistical or both.

You see, my mother recognized that often, it appears as though, I've zoned out and tuned the speaker out when one is talking to me.  Nothing could be further from the point.  In fact, my brain, beyond processing what you are telling me, is jumping to new topics that relate and that challenge me and somehow the conversation you were having with me has triggered my brain to think about other things and chew on stuff and fire numerous times in a matter of minutes.

True, this can be extremely distracting, and often, it does appear as though I am distracted.  I might even reply as though I've not been listening, due to the distracted nature of my brain.

Despite what others might think, I have manage to over-compensate and manage life without drugs to mitigate the over-firing.  My mother has been one of the few that has managed to figure out a way to work through it without becoming accusatory or mean about.  She merely redirects my conversation/thoughts with a simple reminder question. Granted, sometimes that frustrates, but most of the time, I am able to jump back to the topic at hand and move on.

Nothing frustrates me more than an individual who automatically assumes my lack of reply or my "far away" look equates to boredom or lack of interest -- and so therefore decides they must do two things:

  1. Repeat themselves over and over again to make sure they've driven the point home -- which they have ... to the point of making the dead horse STINK.
  2. Accuse me of being uninterested and selfish -- you never let me finish!!!  You always interrupt me!!  You never truly listen ... why is it your eyes always glaze over when I am talking to you (another misinterpretation ... they don't glaze ... they go to the other place ... where my brain works to process or chew on something).
Nothing could be further from the point.

For the first time since ... well, ever, my mother put into words what I've been struggling with others with whom I communicate.   I feel validated ...

And just so you know, it's taken me at least an hour to write this little ditty due to the fact that my brain jumped over three or four significant subjects while I was thinking through my thoughts, leading me down numerous rabbit trails, which in my world, is always a fun, adventure.

Be prepared to embrace the differences.  That's all I'm saying ...


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