Just Stupid

I was smart once. I really was, and I hated it. I thought it ostracized me from my peers. It hadn't gotten me anywhere, because I didn't know how to apply myself. The tests at school were too easy, a lot of the time I was bored. I read a lot, because I liked it better than the stuff on tv during my youth. My first show I liked on my own that wasn't one my family all watched, was Daria.

I scored on the 98th percentile on my S.A.Ts two years in a row. I basically had straight As, and shortly after that I started wanting to kill myself. Being smart sure as hell didn't make me happy. At the time it seemed it was making me unhappy. At the time I tested as a 152 IQ. That's genius level technically. (Not that I'm bragging.)

Moving to Whidbey Island coincides with the time I pretty much started feeling sick. That's when the grades started seriously dropping. I couldn't, and still can't do math. But I still wasn't stupid. After the lumpectomy I met Alastair and he introduced me to pot.

I liked doing it at first because it was something no one would have expected of me. It was a little risky, and it was fun. I liked sharing something like that with Ali, because in my 18 year old mind I thought it made us closer. I loved him, but we didn't really have a hell of a lot in common.
After awhile I didn't see the big deal in pot anymore. Just meh, didn't have a desire.

Then I had to start taking the sleeping pills. That was before I could drink even. Then the drinking started when I turned 21. I found out far too many nights what mixing the two together would do. Frankly it turned me into an insane person who did crazy things that I would have absolutely no recollection of the next morning.

Then Chris really showed me how to roll properly, and suddenly I was in love with it. It was a year or so after that I started realizing I wasn't as smart as I used to be. I was saying things that I knew were wrong and having to correct myself an instant later. Spelling was always a breeze for me, and I was having trouble spelling on occasion. I was having trouble retaining new information I'd learned even moments before, which made me ask again, which made me look stupid.

In some sick way, years after I wished I wasn't smart anymore, it seems I'm average. Not even average, I come off ditsy sometimes people tell me. I realize I come off as agreeable, but I'd never considered ditsy.

I suppose people that take the time and get to know me realize I'm still sort of smart, but not like I was. I find it a little disturbing when I really sit down and think about it, but really, it doesn't bother me. I have to consider what went into it, and all I can think is the E and the sleeping pills. Do I wish I could sleep? Yeah, but there's nothing I can do about that. As far as the E bombs, well dude, some of my best experiences were on that drug, so would I trade those nights for anything? Nope. I would've made the exact same decisions again. So, I'm here I think 50% because I had no choice, and 50% because I fucking lived and did something fun for myself, something I never did when I was young and "smart."

Do I want to be that smart again? Sometimes, but I'm already prone to getting bored quickly, and the being smarter thing I think would just speed up the a.d.d. because I'd get frustrated with not having money for books, and more college. Instead I live for myself and make myself happy because I can, and because I was told I wasn't gunna have the same life span as most people. Considerably shorter.
I think living to 80 with the kind of pain I experience would be a cruel fate anyway. Unless a miracle happens, I'm ok with doing another 5-10 years and bowing out gracefully. I'm not gunna die tomorrow, or even next week. I'm not having a flare period, and those are really the only times I think I'm gunna die sooner.

While I'm frustrated with my brain sometimes, I've made peace with the fact that we all have choices, and maybe some people would say they weren't smart choices, but they were mine and I made them the best I could. That geeky 4th grader inside me is thanking me for all the cool stuff I've gotten to experience that I never would have if I hadn't changed. (That geeky 4th grader wakes up next to Johnny in the mornings and watches him sleep for a moment thinking "how did I end up with someone so good looking? He never would have given me the time of day if he had known me then.")

So brain, thanks for functioning. Sorry I've been hard on you, and likely will be in the future, but at least I don't feel the way I did about my brain when I was young.