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This wanted to be one of those posts where I complain about my job, but the problem isn't my job, it's my brain. I'm losing my ability to act like the kind of person who can do the kind of job I have.

It's not a rant-post obliquely glorifying my unique brilliance compared to the dull plodding minds of my coworkers. Nor, conversely, is it a guilt-post, confessing my secret fear that I'm not smart enough and I Will Be Found Out. Everybody's a Special Snowflake and everybody's flawed.

What it is, I think, is the beginning of an inquiry into either a developing neurological disorder or a basic thinking style which I can no longer cover up. I'm not sure which.

This inquiry might lead into the MRI tunnel (the implications of which fill me with horror), but for now I just want to try to describe my experience. It'll be practice for when I decide to consult a professional.

I want to say "I can't think anymore," but I can. I'm thinking right now. And it's tempting to say that I can't focus, but I focus on tasks many times a day (for instance, composing this post). My focus doesn't last as long as it used to, but I bet that's true of almost everyone who spends much time on the shiny, shiny internet.

My sense of something being not quite business-as-usual in my brain, however, is persistent. It's harder for me to think things through than it used to be, to focus long enough to solve a problem, and to juggle multiple pieces of data at the same time. All of these mental feats are requirements of my job, so I'm constantly confronting the lack.

A lot of it is probably an effect of age. Things just don't matter as much when reproduction is off the table. When those juicy hormones of youth go, they take giving-a-damn with them and leave a peaceful insouciance behind. At least, that's been my experience.

But maybe the mental tools I sense becoming dull should never have been my primary tools anyway. Maybe I've stopped honing them because they're unnatural to me and I'm tired of spending my life energy that way. Maybe I'm just bored.

And even if I'm neurologically broken, or breaking, maybe there's another way of being in the world besides the sharp, incisive way so glorified by school and the economy and bosses and stuff.

I don't know yet.

Crossposted from Dreamwidth, where there are comment count unavailable comments. | Comment at Dreamwidth.



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