It’s Not About Them #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

Lately, I’ve fallen back into the habit of comparing the care I get or don’t get to that which another client gets. I did it with the full-time one-on-one client at my previous home too and it got so far that I ended up calling her derogatory names for getting what I felt I needed. Which, for clarity’s sake, wasn’t full-time one-on-one, but to have staff not leave me during my assigned one-on-one hours for every little thing. And more importantly, I felt it was unfair that she was assigned familiar staff 100% of the time while I got stuck with the temp workers most of the time.

This same issue is what’s at stake again now, since there’s another one-on-one (not sure it’s full-time) client here who doesn’t need to deal with temp workers. I didn’t mind this at all until one day earlier this week, the staff schedule got turned upside down to accommodate him and as a result I got stuck with a temp worker who was here for the first time.

This illustrates my point: I don’t care what others get. It’s not about them, it’s about me.

To solve my unfairly comparing myself to others and falling into an endless trap of what others have or do to “deserve” the care I feel I need, I am going to ask my assigned staff to write up a note saying that staff not engage in arguments about other clients’ care. For clarity’s sake, this is not the same as saying “No arguing, I’m leaving”, like the staff were originally told to do at the slightest opposition from me regardless of topic. Rather, I’d like the staff to listen to me and validate my feelings regarding my unmet needs. After all, to me, it doesn’t matter what someone else gets or doesn’t get, but when my care is compromised, I feel bad.

This post was written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, for which the prompt is “to me”. I realize I didn’t make the phrase central to my piece, but this was what popped into my mind.

Poem: Light and Dark

Posted on by Astrid

Light
Feels good
Like the sun
On my skin
On a warm day in May

Dark
Feels bad
Like a rainstorm
Soaking me
In the midst of November

Light
And dark
Seem to contrast
Like one is always negative
And the other always positive

But without last November
May will never come
And so it is
With light
And dark

Feel all the feels
And remember
You’re alive
And so it is…

This poem was written for this week’s dVerse Poetics. The prompt was to use a piece of instrumental music as inspiration for a poem. I have a lot of playlists of instrumental music in my Spotify library, but choosing a piece was harder than I thought. I eventually went with a piece for which both the title and the music spoke to me. This seems to be intended for meditation and relaxation practices.

I Am (Not!) 154

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all. Today’s topic for Friday Faithfuls is IQ testing. This topic is very dear to my heart, as IQ tests have often been used and even more often misused to determine my entire life path.

When I was twelve, I had an IQ test administered to me. It was the verbal half of the Wechsler intelligence scale for children (the performance half can’t be administered to me because of my blindness). On this verbal IQ test, I got an overall score of 154. According to the educational psychologist writing the report, this is a sign of giftedness.

There were several problems with this assigned IQ score. For one thing, like I said, it’s just a verbal IQ score. The year prior, another ed psych had tried an intelligence test for visually impaired children which utilizes non-verbal components, but had given up on the test midway through because I got too frustrated. This ed psych had also administered the verbal half of the Wechsler scale, but her report doesn’t give an IQ number.

Another thing, which you might figure out from my previous paragraph, is the possibility of a retest effect, since I took the exact same test twice in a year. The ed psych that labeled me with an IQ of 154 did try to find out whether this had actually happened. He asked me whether I had been told when taking the test the last time which answers were correct and which weren’t. I had, in fact, with some, and besides, my father had given me extensive advice on how to answer some questions even more cleverly than I had done. However, I knew the purpose of this assessment: to get the green light for me to go into mainstream, high level secondary education rather than special ed for the blind. I wasn’t at the time really sure whether that’s what I wanted, but my parents did and I, being twelve, didn’t question their authority. So I said “no” and the ed psych concluded there was no retest effect.

I don’t doubt that I have an above-average verbal IQ. But 154, in my opinion, is probably too high. Besides, verbal intelligence is what you need to succeed in traditional schoolwork. What you need to succeed in life, is more related to performance IQ, if you ask me.

Even now though, nearly a quarter of a century later, the number 154 pops up here and there and everywhere with regards to me. Professionals keep assigning new dates to the original IQ score, calling it a total rather than verbal IQ, and making more nonsense out of these ever-intriguing three digits.

I have tried to talk to the behavior specialist about this. What I really want is to be re-evaluated. Not just with respect to (verbal) IQ, but with respect to other things too. She for now only agreed to write a note by the IQ score of 154 saying that it dates back 25 years.

You’d assume that, in intellectual disability services, it wouldn’t matter whether your IQ is 100 or 150, since it means no intellectual disability regardless. However, several of my current staff have admitted being wowed at my IQ score before they got to know me. I hate that the most, being reduced to being 154.