75% of the blogs I follow are by parents with children with all sorts of special needs of different levels. So when I sit down to write, I think about them, and what they do and go through every day for their children, and how difficult their days must be for them sometimes.
So I don't write anything.
Who am I to write about work, or a great restaurant, or my own NF issues? I'm not a parent, so while I feel extreme empathy for both them and their children, I can't exactly relate, even if I have gone though similar social problems, learning disabilities, and other physical issues. Who am I to blog? I'm just some 24 year old with a fairly typical, boring life; college degrees, a job, a car, a boyfriend, trying to save money for an apartment. I just have NF1, which makes things difficult for me sometimes.
I suppose I ought to write more about NF, to enhance understanding. But it's so complicated. I know what you're thinking: "Every disorder is complicated." I get that. No offense, but I feel NF is a little different. It's spontaneous and progressive. It's gonna gitcha. Tumors attacking and screwing with everything from moods, speech, motor skills to eyesight, growth, and health. But it's so much more than that. Everyone I've talked to who has NF has a different story.
I know I'm not normal. I'm weird. I'm such a black sheep I'm an armadillo.
My mother and father swear I'm not weird, but seriously, take off the rose colored glasses and see! I'm weird and strange and odd, but that's okay. I like being so uncanny and odd. A bit off. I'm not like anyone in my family really, and that's okay. Sure, I'm a social wreck, but whatever. It's cool. I'd rather not be in the normal crowd. I like you guys better; the moms and dads who work hard for their equally weird and wonderful kids.
You parents get me. And I get your kids. I can commiserate when they get teased at school, I understand when meetings for their special needs get frustrating, when doctors don't listen. If I'm being presumptuous, I'm sorry. I know I haven't had as much struggle growing up, but I've had A LOT more struggles than the neuro-typical kids. A year in special ed, speech therapy, those God awful assessment tests (with those spiral board books with colored shapes and people and stuff? Can someone tell me the name of those tests? I forget, but I took them all. The. Time.), MRIs, poked and prodded by doctors. Not really a typical part of childhood.
Anyway, I guess that's it. Sending this out to the bloggersphere.