Could there be a reason for my inability to grasp language?
So I took my French I final today (technically yesterday, as it is 2:03am on Thursday) and I'm fairly certain I bombed. My problem? I just have almost no grasp for the language. Most of the vocabulary, I just cannot remember. I felt rushed, cause I only had two hours and it takes me that long usually just for one short paragraph. I am having such a hard time with it. Then Meg, after I listed what my problems were (the main one being it's like I know the word, I can read the word, but it isn't sticking in my head. I see it on a test and it's gone), put forth the suggestion that, perhaps, I was mildly dyslexic.
I stopped to stare at my computer. Why? Because this is something I actually have considered, on and off, for the last decade. I've only discounted it because I don't have problems reading. Not really. I mean, occasionally I get confused, and I mis-read a word. Or I see the word and know what it means, but then somehow the sentence gets the wrong meaning in my head. But I don't get letter confused (except that when I write, I'm constantly stopping to triple check that what I want is a "g" or a "q", whichever the case may be, cause the way I write, they look similar). I'm amazing with math (except not really. I can memorize formulas and remember the processes but basic arithmetic gets me every time). Even to this day, sometimes I say "right" when I mean "left" or vice versa. I absolutely suck at langauge. Spanish, French, English. I can't keep tenses straight for the life of me. Yet I'm good at tutoring English. Go figure.
So. Maybe there's something to it. I did some research and lo and behold, all of the small, tiny quirks as a kid...stuff I never thought went together (such as my mis-reading a sentence and, oddly enough, my social awkwardness; I've always felt I was socially immature to my age group. Still do, despite my moments of "wise-beyond-my-years", and my recent discovery about my inability to discuss my feelings) all fit together to paint this one shining picture: Dyslexia. Or course, I need to (somehow) get my doc at Seneca to do the test on me to check for sure, but this feels "right". Kinda like it felt "right" when my old doc diagnosed me with ADD. I have a name for it now, and I know it's right.
Still, like I said, I discounted it over the years because I could read relatively fine, didn't seem to display any of those mythic symptoms (the g/q thing not withstanding; I just now, like five minutes ago, realized I did it) and I have been known to be a hypochondriac. I had a doc tell me once I was a hypochondriac (and there, I did it: I let spellcheck spell hypochondriac once then went to spell it myself. I swear I see all the letters...but I just typed it without the second "h" and didn't notice until the red line appeared.) Ever since then, I tend not to report stuff to the docs cause, well, they won't believe me, obviously. It's why I suffer through chronic back pain and migraines: whenever they do their tests for it, they never show up.
So, providing I can get my doc to test for it...it completely explains my problems with learning French. Next semester, I think I'll ask her if I can record her lectures. That way I can listen to them in the car when I drive and that's an hour's extra studying right there, each way. It's so close to the holidays...I'm hesitant to schedule an appointment now. I'll wait until the new year arrives.
I still half-think I'm just forcing symptoms that don't exist. That I'm not really dyslexic and I'm making stuff up for attention. That's what they all say, anyway. Gotta be truth to it, right? I mean, even if I am...it seems stupid and silly to go this late in the game to the school and say "Hi, I have a learning disability. I need special care in classrooms." when I've...coped so well (er...) until now, why do I need special attention? That's the exact reason I never made a fuss about the ADD, even though technically I am owed special learning cares and attentions. I mean, I told some of my teachers so they were aware, but I never did anything official about it. Why bother? I don't want the attention that it would bring. I hate attention.
So yeah. That's the latest thing in my life. I'm two months and seventeen days shy of 30 years old and I'm just NOW finding out I might be dyslexic? Seems kinda unbelievable. But then again, so is being 23 years old and finding out you're ADD. C'est la vie.
I stopped to stare at my computer. Why? Because this is something I actually have considered, on and off, for the last decade. I've only discounted it because I don't have problems reading. Not really. I mean, occasionally I get confused, and I mis-read a word. Or I see the word and know what it means, but then somehow the sentence gets the wrong meaning in my head. But I don't get letter confused (except that when I write, I'm constantly stopping to triple check that what I want is a "g" or a "q", whichever the case may be, cause the way I write, they look similar). I'm amazing with math (except not really. I can memorize formulas and remember the processes but basic arithmetic gets me every time). Even to this day, sometimes I say "right" when I mean "left" or vice versa. I absolutely suck at langauge. Spanish, French, English. I can't keep tenses straight for the life of me. Yet I'm good at tutoring English. Go figure.
So. Maybe there's something to it. I did some research and lo and behold, all of the small, tiny quirks as a kid...stuff I never thought went together (such as my mis-reading a sentence and, oddly enough, my social awkwardness; I've always felt I was socially immature to my age group. Still do, despite my moments of "wise-beyond-my-years", and my recent discovery about my inability to discuss my feelings) all fit together to paint this one shining picture: Dyslexia. Or course, I need to (somehow) get my doc at Seneca to do the test on me to check for sure, but this feels "right". Kinda like it felt "right" when my old doc diagnosed me with ADD. I have a name for it now, and I know it's right.
Still, like I said, I discounted it over the years because I could read relatively fine, didn't seem to display any of those mythic symptoms (the g/q thing not withstanding; I just now, like five minutes ago, realized I did it) and I have been known to be a hypochondriac. I had a doc tell me once I was a hypochondriac (and there, I did it: I let spellcheck spell hypochondriac once then went to spell it myself. I swear I see all the letters...but I just typed it without the second "h" and didn't notice until the red line appeared.) Ever since then, I tend not to report stuff to the docs cause, well, they won't believe me, obviously. It's why I suffer through chronic back pain and migraines: whenever they do their tests for it, they never show up.
So, providing I can get my doc to test for it...it completely explains my problems with learning French. Next semester, I think I'll ask her if I can record her lectures. That way I can listen to them in the car when I drive and that's an hour's extra studying right there, each way. It's so close to the holidays...I'm hesitant to schedule an appointment now. I'll wait until the new year arrives.
I still half-think I'm just forcing symptoms that don't exist. That I'm not really dyslexic and I'm making stuff up for attention. That's what they all say, anyway. Gotta be truth to it, right? I mean, even if I am...it seems stupid and silly to go this late in the game to the school and say "Hi, I have a learning disability. I need special care in classrooms." when I've...coped so well (er...) until now, why do I need special attention? That's the exact reason I never made a fuss about the ADD, even though technically I am owed special learning cares and attentions. I mean, I told some of my teachers so they were aware, but I never did anything official about it. Why bother? I don't want the attention that it would bring. I hate attention.
So yeah. That's the latest thing in my life. I'm two months and seventeen days shy of 30 years old and I'm just NOW finding out I might be dyslexic? Seems kinda unbelievable. But then again, so is being 23 years old and finding out you're ADD. C'est la vie.