TW: Depression and anxiety and suicidal thoughts. And something along the lines of thinking a disability doesn't count or isn't real.
In which you learn how I am secretly a horrible person.
My freshman year roommate and I generally got along. We weren't really friends, and had rather different schedules, but were generally respectful and would study somewhere else when the other person needed to sleep and get dressed quietly with minimal light-turning on to not wake up the other person. She's actually a cool person and I think I could have been good friends with her, except we never actually talked except greetings and stuff. (She had a rather intense long distance relationship the whole year that was not going super great, so it occupied a lot of her time.)
Sophomore and junior year I lived with the same girl. When I agreed to live with her freshman year, I knew it wouldn't work well. But I couldn't figure out how to say no. Sophomore year was ok though. Not super great but not awful.
And then junior year hit with the depression and anxiety and suicidal thoughts. (Junior year was just not a high point in my life).
And what had been a non-ideal but still functional living arrangement really just got awful. Because I had nowhere to hide.
And my roommate was having her problems with ADHD and stuff. Which meant that she was MESSY. (Which actually wasn't that big of a problem because I am messy too, but I am usually only messy with stuff. Not with time.) And would sleep in late. And miss classes. So times when I expected to be home alone were totally destroyed. My schedule was gone and off. And meltdown over meltdown over meltdown and I couldn't even hide in my room, since she was in there.
I need schedules.
Especially when my world is already going to pieces, I need my schedules and my routines.
And I hated ADHD. And thought it was fake and made up. Because CLEARLY IF SHE JUST GOT OUT OF BED when her alarm went off then she could go to class. If she just went to class, then maybe she wouldn't have been failing her classes. Or maybe if she studied instead of internetting all the time.
I just didn't understand why she couldn't try harder.
Or why she kept missing her classes.
And to be honest, I still don't really.
I don't understand how someone can't just sit down and do their work.
Or just wake up when the alarm goes off.
And then a couple years later, my youngest sister, who I've never gotten along with great, was in high school. And did a really bad job freshman year. And so my parents got her tested and found out that she had ADHD. And this made me even more mad and I decided ADHD was even more fake.
This is the sister who yells at me that I don't know what it is like to be her because people like her and they don't like me. And she has friends. And that's important. And I just wouldn't understand. And how she has other things that are important like sports. And I just don't understand what it is like to be bored in class. (Also false, I didn't learn a single thing in a math class until we got to the proofs in geometry in high school.) And who is generally difficult. And who lies to our parents so she can go do things she wants to do. (This is a big one. Even Medium Sister, who was much more social and fought a lot more with our parents than I did, never lied to them. Our parents are generally fair, reasonable people who just want us to succeed at life and be happy, decent people.) And she even lied about being sick to get out of school sometimes (something, again, I never did even though I hated school sometimes because lying was wrong. And incorrect.)
So it seemed perfectly reasonable to me that Small Sister was using this to get out of doing school work. Or other work. And to make things fit her life.
(And also I was mad at my parents for getting her tested but never thinking about it with me, even though I did go through various periods of life where it would have probably been somewhat obvious. But I was quiet and didn't make trouble. And apparently, if you made trouble, then you got excuses. And that wasn't fair at all.)
And I just didn't understand why someone couldn't just sit down and finish their homework.
Or why they would lie about things.
Or why they wouldn't ask for help if they didn't understand things. There are tons of people in my family that can help with math.
Or why she didn't follow the rules my family has created about not forgetting things at home (homework isn't done until it is in your backpack and your backpack is in the car.)
There are so many things that just don't make sense to me.
But then again, I also don't understand how people could have trouble with basic calculus. Or be biology graduate students and not understand how to look at simple recombination or complementation data.
Or how people can talk to other people without needing to take naps afterwards.
Or how people can just go up to random strangers and ask them for directions.
Or how to talk to a professor during office hours.
Or how to call and order food from a restaurant.
Or how people can remember other people's faces.
Or how to remember to take a shower every day.
But I can not understand things about other people and not be a jerk about it. Because I'm sure there's a lot of things people don't understand about me. And I'd appreciate if they weren't jerks about it either.
And I can not understand something and still know that it is a real experience for other people. Even if I don't really understand it.
Labels: autism, change, college, depression, me, meltdown, my parents, routine, self-injury, Small Sister