I will say that it isn't easy, living with DCD (aka: dyspraxia) and dyscalculia, most especially when you are so aware of just how vast the world is, just how wondrous and full is the breath and scope of our history and experiences and knowledge--and, those things we do not yet know, those things we cannot necessarily see and touch, or readily explain.

I cannot stress enough, how helpless I feel, when I struggle to learn--and oh, how frustrated I get, steeped in self-loathing and sheer frustration, most especially when I desperately want to "get" something!

But, my wonky brain simply makes that impossible: chemistry formulas, reading and playing music, balancing my bank book--even simple subtraction eludes me. And learning things like Photo Shop, dancing, even badminton...very, very difficult. The side of my brain that must take logical steps in order...tends to take the first few of those steps--then either stops or simply passes over a point in the sequence like it was never there.

As an example. If you were to give me a short sequence of numbers to repeat, I could do that up to a point--say the fifth or sixth or even tenth number. But, if you asked me to repeat those numbers backwards--maybe I MIGHT get to the second or third set of numbers--and my brain would come to a screeching halt, and I simply wouldn't be capable of doing any more. And let me telling you, that HURTS me, emotionally. It makes me feel small and powerless.

I especially hate it, really hate it, when someone blows my disability off, by saying "I'm bad at math, too." It's NOT that I'm "bad" at math--it's that my brain doesn't allow me to process the information properly to complete the task. In fact, I LIKE algebra, when I took it for the first time in college, I thought it a bit like doing a puzzle game. But, as I discovered, with the help of one of my professors, my brain won't allow me to do it--it "skips" steps, "forgets" information.

Yes, this even effects my memory process, at times--not always, but enough to give me a lot of grief, when I was in college.

For instance, I can learn a math formula--or even lines from a play, have them down pat--and then, as little as a day or so later, the information is gone from my brain. It's why, I discovered, I am incapable of memorizing multiplication tables, or how to do long division.

I have learned, as far as exams and scripts and speeches go, how to work with my memory lapses. I've found that if I did one or two quick bursts of intensive memorization...in short doses, just before a test or a speech or performance, I'd be (mostly) good to go. Otherwise, long times spent memorizing things well in advance, are basically a waste of time for me.

In studying, I've also found that I learn better with assistance--a teacher in front of me talking about whatever the course is, and with in-class interaction, and step by step guidance. I found, much to my dismay, that study on my own is quite hard. I don't retain things as well, without that person-to-person interaction.

My concentration wavers too much, on my own. I'm a person who is drawn to observation--I'm always looking, forever curious. That's probably why I was so good at historical research and finding antique bottle to dig up for my collection, when I was out in the woods...out exploring the woods and fields, I was always finding things...sometimes artifcts, sometimes just an interesting natural object.

Sometimes my curiosity, my sense of wonder, my joy of discovery, works well for me--and sometimes, not. Sometimes my attention wavers at the most inoppertune moments. And, that can be terribly embarassing and frustrating.

Anything requiring hand-eye coordination means that I have to stop, pause and try and figure out how to compensate for my disability. Sometimes I succeed. Like with horseshoe pitching or darts--what I do is experiment, basically trial and error, until I find the stance, the movement, the place to put my gaze, that will make the thing I'm trying to accomplish work for me. Art is impossible. I cannot hold a pencil properly, cannot connect my mind with my eye and my hand and my heart, all at the same time.

I can take nothing for grated. What's difficult for any "normal" person, his doubly so for me--and sometimes just plain impossible. And you have no idea how sad that makes me.

And the worst part of all this, the very worst part, is that so few people know, and rarely does anyone ever understand.

It's an invisible disability. And, it IS debilitating, sometimes.

I used to dream of finding an understanding teacher, who "got" my problems and would work with me. I did have one--a wonderful math professor, who with her help, made me FINALLY (after 5 sucessive failures) pass algebra. I would never have passed the math requirement that was needed in order for me to graduate from college, without her kindness and understanding. But, that's so rare. So few understand--well, no one wants to, really. People don't like what they can't see, or touch, or understand.

Sometimes, my disability embarrasses people. My dad, teachers, fellow employees--whether they know about my problem or not, my difficulties will sometimes cause other people discomfort--so I don't tell people about it, if I don't have to. It's best that way, I've found. Telling makes people treat me differently, and I don't like that.

But it is hard, so hard, knowing what a wonderful place we have here on earth--an incredible store of thousands of years of knowledge. Beauty and poetry and song are everywhere, in the earth and sky, and in the heart and mind. To be excluded from that, even in the smallest way, can be quite shattering.