Looking Through My Kaleidoscope (13th Post)
The school bell rang, signaling the school day was over in the merry old land of Oz, and my visit to public school had come to an end. “Scarecrow” Anne and I boarded the yellow school bus. I choose a seat by the window. I looked out the window at the colorful chaotic parade of students. I was mesmerized by the scene. I visually explored the intense energy, lively motion, and diverse emotions on display. I felt a deep pang of regret. Since I was leaving this enigmatic kaleidoscopic world, I clung desperately to the belief this was not a goodbye. This was a hello and see you again soon. I wanted to continue to explore this new environment I had found. It was a place where I could breathe, think freely, ask any questions I desired, and most importantly….date. Like Rapunzel in her prison, I was determined to escape the dungeon of catholic school forever. During my visit, in spite of the bubbling anxiety concerning the new and the unknown, I felt safe. Safety was a new and startling sensation, and one I wanted to fully embrace. Before I knew it, the yellow school bus had returned to our original starting point. I felt reluctant to depart the bus. I thanked “Scarecrow” Anne for the visit to Oz. She was quite pleased with my elation after learning of my decision to transfer to her public school.
I walked home very slowly. I was lost inside my kaleidoscope of memories. Each turn of the kaleidoscope resulted in one fascinating and delightful scene after another. So many patterns of intriguing shapes and vibrant colors. My heart longed to become a part of this diverse and dynamic community. As I got closer to home, my wayward anxiety returned. To soothe my little bubbling internal cauldron, I focused on preparing an argument to convince my parents to allow me to attend public school. Not knowing I had an undiagnosed TBI, I did not understand how dramatically and drastically my life would be altered with a change of schools. I also had no idea how some aspects of my current situation were actually beneficial for my brain’s deficits.
For example, at that time I was living a very simple and structured life. I did not have to decide each day what to wear, where to be, or how to act. Most decisions were made for and dictated to me, therefore my damaged brain would not be challenged in ways it had no answers to give. The catholic school hallways were usually quiet and orderly. That meant my frontal lobe would not be overstimulated and agitated by chaos and loud sounds. Social interaction was limited, so I had no idea how in many social situations my brain would not decipher social cues. This inability to read social cues was further impacted negatively by my parent's limits on social contact with the surrounding neighbors. Later that resulted in struggling to understand how to interact with adults.
One thing I did know my brain struggled with was math. I loathed long division. My mother attempted to tutor me in long division and grew frustrated with my inability to understand what she was teaching me. Due to the stress of the experience, the tutoring sessions with her resulted in me having major meltdowns. Due to brain damage, neither my mother nor I knew I had dyscalculia and would never be a math scholar. Many years later when I attended college I had a dear friend (very smart
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guy) tutor me in a basic course entitled The History of Math. Tom was very patient and kind. Bless his heart. I just managed to pass the course. To this day I cannot understand why they use letters instead of numbers in math problems. LOL
In 10th grade I decided to leave the small world I was living in. At that time, I had no idea of the TBI issues and problems I would be facing. I was thrilled to be expanding my world through public school. By contrast, I can only imagine how terrifying it was for my damaged brain to be overwhelmed, overstimulated, and depleted each day by so many challenges to its executive functions. Also, I did not know with each passing year my undiagnosed sleep disorder was becoming more and more problematic.
All I knew at that time was I was beside myself with joy when my parents agreed to allow me to attend public school. I was so sure my life would now take a turn for the better. And in many respects, it did thanks to my desperation skills and the kindness of strangers and friends. However, I did not get a happy life, which I know is not unique. But, I would go on to create a lemonade life. It was not the one I wanted, however pretty darn amazing and filled with wonder at times. At least I had a life - many people never achieve that goal. I will forever wonder who I would have been and how my life could have turned out if I had only known I had brain damage and had received rehab.
In 10th grade, I did not know my life would not ever live up to my expectations. Nor did I ever dream I would often, unwittingly, go on to crush my heart,….many times…and adversely impact my social life and relationships. I would also end up drowning in grief and confusion on a daily basis. And passive suicide would be a constant argument in my head. And there would also be many missed opportunities and unmet goals. All this lay ahead of me. Only, I did not know that. I had no crystal ball to see my future.
However, I will always be grateful to Anne for her amazing invitation to a world I did not know existed. I will always be grateful to myself for the opportunity to attend public school. And I will always be grateful for my commitment to solving the puzzle of me. I had only one really BIG fear in life. I was so terrified I would die before I - or someone else figured out what was wrong with me. Now I know and now I am at peace. And thanks to Anne and me and so many, many, many others I met along the way, I have a life to talk about and a story to tell. And it all began in the merry old land of Oz.