The trouble isn’t that I’m not smart. I’ve tested for MENSA. I just barely didn’t qualify. I’m in the top 2%, not 1%. I graduated Summa Cum Laude. I’m capable of both math and writing. I’m fully capable. I have so much potential.
The problem is for 4 years now, my brain has not consistently been getting the blood and oxygen that it needs to function. Take normal neurodivergent forgetfulness and magnify it. I can’t even info dump on my special interests because I can’t retain the knowledge. I lose everyday words all the time. I’ve forgotten how to do the math that I did for 20 hours a week for 3 years while working in the maths department. My spelling is worse than usual because I can no longer see how words go together.
Tumblr jokes about having only one brain cell, but I’m watching in real-time as lack of oxygen kills mine off. At least that is how it feels. That is how it seems.
And if I didn’t have the potential I have, maybe I wouldn’t notice it as much. But I’m watching myself just get dumber and dumber. At least that’s how it feels. And it’s painful.
They say it takes 4 years for your brain to recover from sustained blood loss. But I can’t keep blood in my body long enough for my brain to recover. So it just gets worse and worse. And I feel… some things are worse than death. Not being dumb itself, that’s fine. But watching my potential and the dreams I had based on it burn away from a consistent lack of oxygen.
And my doctor, the specializes in blood (the title escaped me, you’ll have to excuse me) just has zero interest in figuring out why I suddenly stopped making my own blood 4 years ago. I got regular yearly blood work up to that point. I wasn’t anemic. And then suddenly I had half as much blood in me as I was supposed to and that was all she wrote. I’ve been severely anemic ever since. I took mass quantities of iron as a supplement. My body just flushed it. The only thing that forces my body to make blood is a regular iron infusion. Sometimes, even then, I still need a blood transfusion.
My friend Joy taught me to have my B12 levels checked. Mine is checked 4-12 times a year. I take mass quantities of B12 anyway because maybe I have the motherfucker gene and my body needs more than it should. It helps a little, but it can’t keep up. My blood doctor refuses to test for anything. He just keeps ordering iron infusions and blood transfusions as if that’s to be the end-all solution for the rest of my life.
And I’m so tired. I’m so fucking tired.
I had a potentially life-altering realization over the weekend that would explain like a million things at once, but would also mean I’m dying in a, there is no saving me sort of way, and it was almost a relief. Because while I’m not suicidal, I can’t keep living like this.
I’ll talk more about the realization later once some tests are run. Because I don’t want to alarm people prematurely. It’s probably nothing. I’m probably no more dying than usual, considering I do keep almost dying anyway. This post isn’t about that thing. I’m more illustrating, by alluding to it, just how tired I am.
I’m just so fucking tired. So fucking tired.