Take Two Zoloft & Blame It On Your Mother in The Morning
Hypochondriac? Who me? Naw, but I do tend to self-diagnose with various mental illnesses/disorders. A friend recently grew tired of my repeated queries as to whether she thought I could possibly be bi-polar (she said no, but I don't know...). She brought in her well-loved copy of Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV-TR), certain that it would quell my obsession and lead to my giving myself a clean bill of mental health. She SO misunderestimates me.
I am happy to report that I got all the way to page 58 before diagnosing myself with any disorders. Progress!
Developmental Coordination Disorder! It’s not too sexy, but does this sound like VegasBabe, or what?
“Performance in daily activities that require motor coordination is substantially below that expected given the person’s chronological age and measured intelligence.”
I do trip and/or bump into the furniture a lot, always have...
At my physical for 9th grade tennis, the doctor took one look at my contused and bruised legs, gave me a knowing, pitying look and softly asked if I would like my mother to leave the room "so we could talk."
It probably did not comfort him that my immediate response was, "No, I'm okay. I just fall down a lot." Hummm, a bit too quick with that reply to a question he never asked...
In high school, my mother threatened to pull me off the speech & debate team if I came home from one more meet with bodily injuries. In one season, I suffering broken glasses (smashed into my face while I was wearing them), got shards of glass lodged in my foot and passed out on the bus due to a probable concussion.
Most girls outgrow gawky, but not I. Just last week I went through a whole box of designer Band-Aids as a result of a tragic wholesale shoe shopping incident. A bit disconcerting, yet, somehow, I take comfort in the notion that none of this is my fault. I must just be another victim to poor mental-health genes. I’ll blame my parents. Even if it’s not Developmental Coordination Disorder, it is surely my big feet… also attributable to genetics. Thanks Mum. Thanks Pops. I love you both madly.
posted by MrsVegasBabe @ 9:41 PM
3 Comments:
I feel like I may not have enough measured intelligence to leave comments, but I did want to tell you that I have checked your blog since you told me to.
Julie,
"Measured intelligence" may be in the eye of the beholder... if it is measured by the company you keep and the blogs you read, you are a freaking genius... if I do say so myself!
-VB
PS I do say so!
Me mum refuses to post here, so I will pass on what she said. She confirmed that my feet and my clumsiness may may very well be linked to genetics... she also added my freakishly large football shoulders to the list... (in fairness, she actually referred to herself, saying "I have big shoulders too!" but I can read between the lines...).
-VB
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