An Attempt to Study, a Disaster

I was having a flood of concepts and I was writing them down in my own script. I wanted to share my thoughts and my self in school work. I would bring home the tons of homework they gave us in Junior High and go to my quiet room to study. I would place the books and notebooks on my bench table that my dad made for me. I had my lamp, and everything you need to study. I would sit down with it all in front of me. I would try to read the books, pain staking. They did not make sense. I would get out the questions given to us, or look at the questions at the end of the chapters that we needed to answer. Nothing, nothing at all, nothing made anysense. I would try again and again. Nothing worked. Tears would begin to run down my face. I really really wanted to do it. But nothing made sense.

All my thoughts and ideas had came through listening to my Grandma, mom, dad, and older brother. I remember so clearly when driving in the car with my dad and asking why the sun kept moving and he gave me a wonderful explaination of the geometry of the solar system, Grandma explained the lives, motives, and dynamics of my past and present family, my mother was a very very clever women and very observant, she was nurdy yet very very loving, she taught me how to analyze situations, and my older brother shared his college knowledge with me. But I could not read unless it reflected what my loved ones had taught me and was logical. My school books were full of facts and figures. I could not remember them.

I would go to bed crying to God, "If You Made Me Retarded, Why, Why, did you let me dream of greater things, why tease me?" I felt it was not fair. Was it because I was a girl? No, Mom and Grandma were female and they were fascinating. My younger brother would introduce me to his friends as his retarded sister. Why or why wasen't I retarded in thought so I would not suffer. To sooth my self I decided I would be a scientist, I would study humans. And dreaming that I would fall asleep and wake up refreshed and ready for another exhausting day of trying. Could it get worse?