So I was at class on Friday. Class where prof prohibits laptops, so I have to try to take notes by hand. Half hour in, hand cramp becomes unbearable, so I stop & massage it out.
Prof: Yes?
Me: *continues massaging*
Prof: *points at me* You?
Me: *blink* Huh?
Prof: You have a question?
Me: What? Uh…
Prof: Did you have a question?
Me: Uh, no.
Prof: Oh. You were moving your hand, so I thought you had a question.
Me: No.
After class, I had to go explain to the prof that I get hand cramps and sometimes have to massage them out. Really hope getting my hand-massaging pointed out to the entire class is not going to become a weekly thing. It hurts. Massaging helps stop it hurting.
… And I’m not used to taking notes anymore. My writing endurance is not as good as it used to be. So my hand is still sore. Because it cramped so bad. I don’t know how to spot my warning signs anymore. So I really, really wish prof would let me take notes electronically.
Or that I’d been able to get a diagnosis as a kid, so I could get my laptop as an accommodation. 😦
ischemgeek 
Ouch. That sucks on all levels.
Yeah. Basically, I’m channelling school-aged me and taking the attitude about this that if she’s going to cause me needless pain by denying me the ability to take notes in an easy way, and if she’s going to lie about whether or not the website has all the info you’ll need,* I’m going to make sure to remind her as much as possible that she’s causing me needless pain and struggle.
Petty? Maybe. But, damn it, if the accommodation is something entirely reasonable and something that able students get all over the campus, why the hell should I have to pay $1800 to get the diagnosis papers that will let me do it?! Sense, this makes none.
Also I can’t afford that. I don’t know anyone who can. Except maybe my parents, but ask them for help for getting an LD evaluation? Haha, you’re funny. I’d rather not have my mother call me a retard again. Or have my father lecture me on the merits of hard work and willpower. While both of them gaslight me over whether or not writing hurts.
Sorry for the rant. I’m all stressed from the change over to PhD program and from the fact that the department still hasn’t put together my study stuff for my qualifying exam even though it was supposed to be done 2 weeks ago and I’d like to have an idea of how much studying I need and stressed over needing to figure out who I’m supposed to ask about professional certification stuff and too many new people because new profs and classmates and new undergrads helping in the lab and soon new business people to talk to and also my clubs are changing locations so new locations to get used to and new martial art schedule and… too much new stuff. Too much. It’s all rather overwhelming and I kind of feel like I’m running in a barely-suppressed panic mode and have been for the past month. To borrow a line from John Green, “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee is the sound my anxiety makes.”
I never thought of it that way until he said it but yeah. I feel the way high-pitched whining noises make me feel. Ever have one of those just whining away all day? Yeah. Right now the change is making the same things happen to my emotions. Be glad you’re not dealing with me in meatspace because when I can speak I’m snappish and irritable and often times I can’t or it’s hard to phrase what I want to say. I’ve been saying, “Words.” a lot. It’s what I say when I’m having a hard time getting them out.
*Also, my prediction about the website not having enough info was dead on. Currently all that’s up there is a motivational booklet about study habits and work ethic. But yeah, class notes will totally be on there always, yep yep. This is why I don’t believe profs for a second when they say stuff like that.
Petty? No. Petty is insisting you absolutely require that piece of paper before granting accommodations.
This. I’m lucky on one front, where a prof said he didn’t consider himself beholden to the accessibility office’s rules — in that, rather than limiting myself to the accommodations they were willing to grant me, I can just explain my needs to him and we’ll work it out.
Best response ever. More profs need to take that tack, since the hoops are ridic. For example, the letter from my therapist explicitly stated I check out under stress, but there’s nothing there about, say, note takers. Which would be real handy when my brain decides: “Nope. You’re not going to be able to follow this conversation. Have fun coming to 5 minutes later with no idea what was said.”
Nothing there as in nothing on my cleared accommodations list.
My brain does that too… more when I’m distracted by something than in the shutdown sense, though. In any event, the end result is the same: I’ll tune back in and someone will be talking on something completely different and I’m just like, “Awfuck.”
It’s a little bit of column A and a little bit of column B for us. Even without stressors, we have a habit of living inside our head. Theoretically for the same reasons as with the stressors, but yeh. Also, sometimes it’s *because* the class is interesting. They say something which sparks this entire new train of thought…
And yeah, the end result is the same. lol And then I glance around the room like it’s gonna clue me in, but nope.
Thanks.
Please don’t apologise for the rant. I’m feeling overwhelmed just from *reading* what you’re dealing with. And I’m not the one dealing with it.
Would you appreciate it if I gave some tips that might help to make some parts of this more manageable? It’s also ok if you don’t want solutions right now but just want to have a safe space to talk about this.
Um.. maybe?
Won’t have time to enact many until next week because family is visiting and I need to unfuck my habitat before they arrive and also I have an assignment to work on and a research proposal to write for a scholarship and finally a video to edit for work and I have to sort out some bureaucratic screwup that I just discovered the admin of my school made (I have bad luck – bureaucrats screw up with me more often than can be explained by random chance)… which means unusual people and lines.
(Step one: Unfuck habitat. That’s most urgent, so that’s what I’ll deal with first)
OK, to start with unfucking your habitat: from what I’ve read of your parents, they strike me as the type who will criticise your efforts no matter how hard you’ve unfucked. Am I right? My ex sister in law was like that. I’d spend 4 days cleaning my arse off and it still wouldn’t be clean enough. So… first advice: take the criticism as a given. It’s what they do. Not what you do or don’t. So make the MINIMUM possible amount of effort. Accept that they’ll make you feel miserable and a failure at housekeeping anyway. Put the energy into something that benefits YOU. Like sorting out the screwup.
I know it’s much easier said than done, but accepting that some people will criticise out of their own screwed-upness can be very liberating. And I think you’re already halfway on that acceptance by the way you write about your family.
I hope everything will go reasonably well. Considering the circumstances. But I wish you the best.