Idols

Everyone has someone they’ve idolized in their history. Someone they wanted to be like and read about or watched on TV or in life. When I was younger for me the man who I was interested in most was Thomas Edison, and I still hold great respect for him and his accomplishments. Yes, part of my fascination in him is that he was dyslexic; he had a fascinating thought process. His actions as an individual are well known to me due to what I’ve read.

His thought process can be readily seen with his round about method to invention. He tested hundreds of different materials in his quest for a better light bulb. His inventions led to modern movies and even tattoo machines, audio recordings, batteries and so much more. However the greatest of his creations, in my mind, was his own laboratory building that could be turned on a round platform to utilize the best light year round rather then conforming to the standard design.

His lab is still standing to this day and is known as the first Industrial Lab. When I visited his home many years ago I was awed and inspired by what the man had accomplished and threw myself into all forms of science, much of which has stayed with me to this day. I have him to thank for it and I applaud his perseverance in coming though his dyslexia, and being kicked out of school.

Who is your idol? Could they be dyslexic? Check it out. Here’s a good list.
http://www.dyslexia.com/qafame.htm

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Doctor: “So Alexander, how’s it going?”
Me: “It's so interesting. I can think much more clearly now.”

Two weeks after I started taking medication to manage my ADD that the above exchange occurred. 1995, nine years old, the prescription was Dexedrine. It didn’t cure my dyslexia by a long shot, but I could focus on the words and my work like never before. However it wasn’t without its drawbacks: sleep loss and weight loss due to loss of appetite. The worst thing was definitely the crash - eight hours of clear thought, focused work, brought to an end in a sudden jolt. All my focus and organization issues returned and it seemed each time they came back with interest.

I took medication five days a week during the school year right through high school. I changed medications once along the way from Dexedrine to Concerta. The frequency of taking the medication tended to rise and fall depending on work load at the time and it helped. It really did. But at the same time that it helped, I also felt that something was lost. My free imagination, which was always off doing something fantastic, even as I bent over my papers, was shackled. My other, extra curricular, writing diminished to the point of near non-existence, there was no inspiration for them. I found I didn’t enjoy my time on the medication nearly as much as I did when off. Though it wasn’t until I was shown the comic in the last panel that I managed to give words to what I felt.

I was losing part of myself - part of what made me, ME. I felt cut off from my imagination, one might as well have removed a limb. It may sound trite, but I was afraid of becoming just that: trite, common, stale, tired. That’s why I can’t look at that comic without having to fight down tears. Because of what I feel I came close to loosing.

I stopped taking the medication outright in my second year of college, accepting my deficits as something that I would work on with sheer will if need be. Though it is harder, I feel I have made the right decision and regret nothing. My mom likes to say that she’s never met a strength that wasn’t a weakness. And I know my weakness is also my strength.

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Why I quit Medication. Part One.

I have had this image on my computer for a few years, though I do not know the source of it. I do not look at it very often because it rips at my heart every time. It affects me so deeply because I know it to hold a truth, and because I didn't want to loose that part of me because of medication. More to come.

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Dreamer and Writer

I mentioned something in my last post that’s been ringing in the back of my mind for a little while now. And that is the difference between a Dreamer and a Writer. One of the more positive markings for an individual with dyslexia is an abundant imagination. Though this often manifests as frequent daydreaming and a somewhat loose connection with reality. I call this being a Dreamer, and you don’t need to have dyslexia to be one, but it certainly doesn’t hurt things.

Being a Writer is a little more structured. It means being able to put down, in words, what you see, either in life or in your mind, and get your ideas across to people in a way that they see it, feel it, and/or experience it as if it were their own. To do this truly accurately requires a gift that I’ve only ever seen few who have earned or been gifted with it. My own sister is a fabulous writers and I believe she has this. I myself have quite a bit to go before I’ll think of myself as a true Writer instead of a pale imitation.

I tend to use a rather normal vocabulary when I speak. I use quite a bit of inflection and gesticulation to get across the image and feeling that I have in my mind. I can recall quite vividly one of the tests used to diagnose my dyslexia. I was asked to name as many tings as I could that began with the letter ‘S’. I said ‘socks’ and then blanked. I can recall images of snakes, ships, saws, and many other things, however the words did not come and I was unable to bring them out. Granted quite a lot of time has passed since then and I can say quite plainly that given the same test, my scores would be drastically different. But listing words and using them in writing is quite different.

That being said I continue to try and improve myself until one day I can wear the titles of Dreamer and Writer with conviction.

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