Reflection over function

Today was a much better day than yesterday. We went on an outing, me and Mistress and little S and grandma and grandpa. We were outside almost all day, and I kept in the background and only interacted as much as I felt like, and slept in the car on the way home. I love that - to be able to come along and participate, but not have to strain myself and do more than what is really healthy for me.

A friend asked me the other day if I would always be like this, this tired and careful about noise and such. And I said that I didn't know, but that it was much better than six months ago, and that I think I'm still healing. Weird business, this brain thing. We don't have any pain receptors in the brain - unfortunately that doesn't mean it can't get hurt.

Of course I wish it would get all better. I have been in much better shape than this, I think. But I also think that the demands put upon a working/studying mother without a fortune in our society is something I'll always struggle with. There's always something to do, there's always demands, routines, people. Things that are supposed to be done at regular intervals, at an even pace. It's completely the wrong set of skills for me, and I don't think I'll eve be able to do them well.

So in a way I'll never get better. I'll never get well enough not to need special consideration, never well enough to be able to do everything people assume I'll do, to live up to this role I'm put in by giving birth to a baby and being born in this time and this place. I will, in that regard, always be a disappointment, a special case, a little less than others.

It makes me kind of sad and a bit afraid thinking about it.

But it makes me relieved to know and accept that this is so. The lifelong struggle of denial was much more agonising and frustrating. I don't have to judge myself by others yardstick any more. If I judge myself and what I can do in a more fair way, based on what I now know about my cognitive functions, then I'm both impressive and awesome.

I have a beautiful loving family. My wife loves me and wants me in her life forever. My daughter is pretty and talented and well behaved and funny and kind and seems to have a good life, and she loves us both and I'm pretty sure she knows she's loved, which is the most important thing.

Thanks to Mistress I have my drivers license. I live in a reasonably clean and comfortable home. We have a lovely dog that is well taken care of. And I'm about to finish a very taxing university program, and graduate as a psychologist in June.

And I have a handful of wise, warm, loving friends who knows me for who I really am, and who still likes me. My life is good. I'm good enough. And having all this, having accomplished all this, despite a brain that doesn't really work like other's do - that makes me not only good enough but absolutely awesome.