Overcoming one’s conditions, she had, and, she’d, managed, to turn her diagnoses, into something, positive here, translated…
As my son went into the doctor’s office, and received a confirmed diagnosis of Asperger’s, I’d taken a test, administered by the clinical psychologist, and, gotten diagnosed as, “A.D.H.D.” too. And, even as I was, diagnosed, I was, out of it, and knew, that I’d, received the comments of, “thinking outside the box”, and later, I’d, talked with my former classmates, and learned, that I was, noted for my “weirdness”, my “not knowing when to say what”.
At first, I’d, laughed about my diagnosis of A.D.H.D., I didn’t know, what a forty-year-old person needed the confirmed diagnosis for? What does it mean, to me? And then, I’d, subconsciously, picked up the messages from others’ expressions. For instance, when I’d felt high, at my creative best, actually, people felt that I was, speaking, way too fast, or that I’d, demanded the work to be done too quickly, it’d, made others feel, pressured. But, it was, still, quite difficult, to slow my paces down, I’d felt, that I’d not had enough creativity, although, I was, able to, get more work done, more carefully.
The psychiatrist also believed that I was, gifted and talented, but, I’d, taken an I.Q. test, which showed that I’d, scored 100, I’m just, ordinary. “Are you too impatient, to finish the whole test?”, a friend who’s a physician asked me. And, she was, right, to the latter of the test, I just, got too impatient, so, I’d, bubbled in the answers at random.
I’d sorted through my yearbooks, and, the message my classmates left me were mostly, “Very straightforward”, I’d felt it as a compliment back then, but after I was diagnosed with A.D.H.D., I’d felt, that the comments were, related to my ways of thoughts, how I’d, approached things, due to my A.D.H.D. Over the years, I’d, written the articles, very quickly, produced, many material, but, I’m considered, a “productive writer”, with stance in writing.
I’d always been, scatterbrained as a child, I’d always rummaged to find my bowtie, my uniform before school, and, my grades on the exams, were like the helicopters, going up and down a lot, I can, drop down thirty spots. And so, I was, misunderstood by my school teacher, which gotten me slapped across the face by the teacher a lot, or maybe, because I’d, spaced out, or acted out, I’d gotten, beaten up to bruising too many times to count.
There were a couple of times I got beaten up, it all had to do with “wanting to try something that interests me”. There were, classmates who’d, told me, that if I’d, waxed my assignment books, I’ll be able to, write faster, but the next day, the teacher called me to her office, and asked, “Why is it that I can’t make corrections on your homework?”, then, the stick came. Back then, I’d thought, thank heavens, I’d, used some Vaseline on my hands already, I wouldn’t hurt as much, and it’d never occurred to me, to NOT do it again!
During my schooling careers, my teacher would often, read my writings aloud, not because I’d written well, but because, I’d gotten the comments of “unique point of view” quite a lot; but I still can’t figure out, which views of mine, were considered, unique by my instructors.
There are, even more interesting things in my college years, because of my leadership abilities I was, voted as the leader of my class, semester after semester, after semester, and I’d, gotten close with the special eds instructor, and I’d, gotten the notes on which professor tested the students which ways, and how the exams were, graded. There was a professor, who’s known for his busyness, the upper classmen told me, that he’d not had the time to read over the assignments, and graded on the number of pages we’d turned in for our reports, and, I’d, written up a total of 180 pages, and, bound my paper, into a booklet; I’d had to write two papers, and, I’d, turned in about 60,000 to 80,000 characters, about 120 writing pages, with about, 60 blank pages stuck inside. Later on, it was, proven, that the professor never read, and gave me the grade—and, perhaps, some of you think that I was only, into, making the good grades, but I was, willing to, take the risk of the professor’s finding out, and ending up with receiving a zero for the assignment. And now, I’m still, very passionate about the things that “don’t take much patience”, that’s made me, want to “try it out”.
One day, I’d, wanted to, test the limits of the coin slot of the ticketing of the MRT system, I’d, deposited twenty one-dollar coins, but, as I’d inserted the twentieth coin in, the machine, it’d, jammed, and, I’d had to, get the station attendant to come and look at it, although, the machine was, fixed up immediately, I’d felt, improper, to start challenging the machines, and so, I’d, asked the station attendant about it. They’d told me, that there’s no limit on the number of coins deposited, but, it may be, that I’d, deposited the coins, way too fast (but I don’t have the patience, to slow down the deposit speed, and so, I’d, not tested that out anymore!)
In these past few years, I’d often thought, that if I’d gotten the diagnosis of ADHD when I was younger, if the early intervention methods were available back then, how would my parents have raised me? I’m sure, that they’d still, allowed me to shine out on my own, this wasn’t to say, that they wouldn’t, let me get diagnosed and cured—I was, diagnosed with tics disorder back in middle school, and they took me into treatment—it’s just, that my parents always allowed us, to go crazy on the walls. But, they’d, demanded that we get to school on time, that if we don’t, then, we deserved to get punished by the teachers, later on, in high school, I, misselected the business high schools, and, refused to attend, and they’d, allowed me to stay at home, so I can, part-time through my jobs, as I thought about my own future.
That eras, the kids were, misunderstood, and slapped across the faces, the parents would never, stand on the sides of their young, but they had, accompanied me, let me realize, that home is not a place for reason, but it’s a place, I feel safe in. Twenty years after my parents passed, when I’d, felt taken, I’d still dream about me, trying to find my way home. I’m truly grateful, of how my parents had, trusted me, and gave me a home that I feel safe in.
I’m not just writing, in memoriam of my parents, but also, my thinking hard on, if due to the teachings of my parents, did I, pick up on, some bad habits or not? Although, I’d not, taken all of the values, instilled in me by my family of origin, but, tracing back to my childhood, it’d, not only, benefitted me, but my children as well. Actually, my father had, told me, that studying wouldn’t do me any good, but he’d never, stopped me from going to school, and only told me, that, they may have troubles, keep paying my tuition, before the semester’s up. I’m really grateful for that, and, during my studies in college, I’d only not received scholarship for just one semester, I’d, always believed, that back then, the era taught us, a very important value, which was, “responsibilities”; I am the one deciding to continue my own education, and so I shall, study hard, work hard, to get myself, through school.
My work now, is lecturing, I’d trekked across hundreds of school in Taiwan so far. As I’d lectured, I’d, never stood still behind the podium, instead, I’d, walked around the auditorium, interacted, with members of my audience. For someone who’s talkative, with A.D.H.D. like me, working as a lecture, is, such a major blessing! I’m, really proud of being, different!
And, this woman was able to, overcome her conditions, achieve so very much in her life, because her parents’ way of teaching her, they’d not, pushed her, to learn the “normal” way, instead, they’d, allowed her, to learn on her own, to use the methods that worked best for her, that is why, she’s, able to, grow up free, and, become a creative problem solver in life. This is, a success story, of a special needs person’s education!