Coping.

I believe this story has gone downhill, not with the plot but it appears that my fingers have become brittled and the river of thoughts dammed with their remains. As well, I am finally learning what it feels like to have someone believe in you, if only for a second. It shoots by like a passing car, but a moment later your hair is left to dance in the wind of good thoughts.
At home, there was only one person who I felt truly believed in me. He understood the sickness because he had his own and we were the coping mechanism in a world that thought they could get along with out us just fine. I am becoming to realize that even though our connections have diminished along with the hospital visits, both our brains are sagging under the weight of what we had to learn to get along at such a young age. It scares me so much I don't even want to describe it. Thinking to write down a note, and after looking down the words have become dislexic. From a young age I learned to cope with the difficulties of the ways I was hearing words not being the way everyone else did. Speech and remedials don't seem to be helping me now. I try to sound out words but they still don't come out right. I end up rewriting everyother word, and giving professors blank stares. Dumb and inept, I try to live up to a legacy that never existed in the first place. Maybe my skull is caving under the pressure of "you are so smart." The only thing I ever got smart about was coping, and these lessons aren't standing the test of time.
I have a professor who doesn't believe me when I say I'm a lost cause. I hope to god I prove him right.