A story of growth and healing over a scarred and painful past. reblogging and liking is appropriate if you choose to. A mix of healthy and less. Content Warning for childhood sexual abuse and gas-lighting, among other things. Content exclaimer for love of self, positive growth, apologies, love, and sweet nature drawings.
HI IM //////// BUT YOU MIGHT KNOW ME AS /////.
THIS IS WHAT MY MIND LOOKS LIKE MOST OF THE TIME.
I have
APHANTASIA:
The inability to form mental images of objects that are not present.
James: I’m unable to count sheep, pull up a mental castle, or visualize success. I just can’t access my visual imagination* while awake.
*Except during lucid dreams, PTSD flashes, and with great focus.
I also have
PROSOPAGNOSIA:
A neurological condition characterized by the inability to recognize the faces of familiar–
James: People make things really complicated, you know? I don’t feel human. I’m a dragon. An anything but a person. Just ask society. Just as Everyone.
This is me.
[A purple splotch about the size of a thumb.
I am purple.
I am not:
-A face.
-A face.
-A face.
How could I be when I can’t recognize old photos?
I write stories.
I am dyslexic.
I tell stories.
I am often tongue-tied, colloquially, not medically, my tongue connects just fine, it’s my neurons and their paths and the fires they set in the forest of my brain that lead to tangents even I’m lost on. [crossed out “I’m sorry, again”.]
[Image of a small child holding a teddy bear and a flashlight, very tiny against the writing.]
I will try to be brave and show you the past. Let you see what my mind’s eye won’t let me. Because [writing begins to become erratic] EVEN THOUGHT MY BRAIN FEELS BROKEN
it isn’t. It just needs a gentle reminder that I’m safe. It’s ok. I’m ok.
When I was young enough I still breastfed, I had to go to my Granny’s house–my Dad’s Mom– and to make up for the change, she gave me a bear.
[In cursive brown letters that connect to a bear]
Teddy
and a bottle.
[Next to the bear] Love at 1st sight!
[To the left] As I write this, Teddy is on my dresser watching.
He gives the best hugs. When I got him, he was Bigger than me! I loved to hug him tight and tell him what I wanted to hear.
Teddy: “I love you so much. You give the best hugs. I love when you play with me, and I really like your stories.”
Granted, I was like, 2, so I probably actually said “I love you. You are good.”
DYSLEXIA:
A general term for disorders that involve difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols, but that do not affect general intelligence.
[Image of a sleeping woman drawn in blue on a couch next to a little child and a teddy bear on the floor, looking at an open book in confusion.]
When I was little my brain was bad but I was a Good Girl so my mom homeschooled me so I wouldn’t be called FREAK, STUPID, LOSER!
Despite my [erratic emphasis] BAD BRAIN, I learned how to read, write, and talk “correctly”. All I had to do was [in grey ink “HURT SO BADLY” is crossed out in normal purple ink with “Hurt a bit”] when I read.
Mom told me reading made me smart like her.
It let me talk to people.
It let me have people.
Sometimes, I pretended I was one.
[Image of a small faceless child holding an open book in one hand and a teddy bear in the other.]
[Kroger image from the grocery chain, where the capital ‘K’ loops over the 'o’ to meet the lowercase 'g’ and its tail.]
Once at 4am on a grocery run I said “The letters 'K’ and 'G’ look like they’re hugging, mom!”
Mom: “You think everything looks like it’s hugging.”
Once at 4am when I was in bed reading, I heard my door knob rattle. I turned off the lamp and held my friend tight.
I was reading a scary story.
A monster clearly wanted to eat me but I’ve locked my doors, I was Safe.
[Loosely drawn map in mostly grey that shows three doors to the bedroom, a bed along the north wall, and a door labeled MONSTER in black ink along the tip right.]
