I am back for another blog. In this blog, I pose a question to all you wonderful A.C.C. people out there. Has this happened to you? And if so, how frequently? I am sure you know what I am about to say. You are at a party and you know this really great joke, and then you go to tell it and the thought leaves your brain. Even worse, you could be in the middle of the joke, and then everything blanks and you have no idea what in Gods name you were talking about.
Now I have seen Bill Cosby 49. It is incredibly funny. Bill, the master of comedy, in my humble opinion, talks about turning 49 and how things just go. In this case, the brain. He talks about how his parents use to talk to their friends and say stuff like their mind was playing tricks on them. As a teen, he would sit and listen to this and crack up laughing because he thought it was stupid. Well, I am not 49. I am 37, but I can relate to this because this happens to me all the time. The A.C.C. seems to short my brain waves out. I know people can get dementia, or the brain just goes after a while, but that is when you are in your eighties or nineties.
This doesn’t just happen when I would be speaking, though that is probably the most common time it does occurs. I could be doing anything, and the activity I was about to do is gone faster than the Millennium Falcon traveling through hyperspace. As a kid, my parents use to think I was forgetful Jones from Sesame Street. Remember that guy? For you young people, you are probably drawing a blank, but the older folks know who I am talking about. I must have gone through two dozen coats, wind breakers, and hoodies as a kid, because I would forget to get it before I left a restaurant, sports practice, or whatever the event was.
School was incredibly difficult because of this one fact. I would study very hard, sometimes for four hours straight, then go in and take the test. I would be so pressured to do well from my dad, that I would be a wreck. I would almost always come out of the test so confused. I would come home and my dad would ask how it went. I would usually yes him to death and say that I felt good about it, but to be honest, I felt terrible. I would get the test and swear half the things on the test, I never saw before in my life. It was as if I was looking at this material for the first time. I would get the test back and usually it was an F, or a D, or at best a C. Not all the time, but most of the time, and my dad would be so angry that I failed. He was a teacher. Growing up with him was brutal at times. He got so mad at times, that he would beat me. He would call me stupid, or get mad at me for lying to him because he would say things like why did I say I did okay, then come home with an F.
If there is one thing I am not going to do with my children is make them feel bad. If I help them, and I know they are ready, the results don’t really concern me. I mean if they get great grades, that is fantastic, but if they don’t, I know they did their best, and that is all that matters to me. I implore the parents of children with A.C.C. to remain calm, patient and completely supportive of your children in everything they do.
Driving can be hard too. I have so many thoughts racing through my brain trying to get where they need to go that many times, on my drives out of the house to get away from my dad, I would pull over after a while and say to myself, where the hell am I? Or how the hell did I end up here? Now, 99% of the time when I am driving, Sarah is with me.
I will touch on these points more in my My Life blog segments, but I just wanted to ask can you relate to this? Am I the only one deals with this?