#my dad made me do like over 30 math exams after i brought home a very bad mock exam (he didn't care that we had half the time and-

[arkhammaid]

Also it's more math based test but really simple topics which are unnecessarily complicated. Very speed and intuition based, is basically for admission in business school after my Bachelors.

-😴 Anon

yeah, that will be practice 😭 maybe you'll be able to find old/similar tests to solve them and find stuff to solve that's on similar level. just solve them until you can do it in your sleep i fear

[tenglows]

30 + 45, enemies 2 lovers & jaemin? 💘

[ 30: could we pretend that we're in love? ] + [ 45: listen, it's for science ] i got a little carried away with this one, i loved the plot so much i’m even considering writing a second part

the prompts

you had never liked jaemin, so when he yanked your arm at school's dismissal time, to say you were confused was an understanding.

“what do you want?”

“i need your help”

“care to explain why would i help you?” your words were harsh as you glowered at the boy.

you had never really given importance to jaemin's existence before. he was just another one of those guys that was on the verge of being the bad boy. arriving late to all of his classes -that is if he even cared to arrive-, grades pulled down by the ground, and an attitude who had teachers pulling their hair.

that was until you got partened up with him for a project. you didn't mind at first, figuring you would simply be nice to him. you knew he didn't have much friends, but he didn't seem like a bad person. you would make sure to be kind and get the task done. but when the time came, you honestly didn't have the chance to find jaemin's personality out. he never took interest in the project nor in holding a conversation with you. it was a known fact that he never did the school work, but this was a project that held the majority of the percentage for your final grade, so you thought he would do this part.

he didn't. and you both failed, even with your pleadings to the teacher. it was the first time in your life you didn't pass, and it wasn't even your fault. you hated jaemin ever since.

“could we pretend that we're in love?” he spoke quickly, and you had to had heard wrong.

“what?” you couldn't be more baffled, and he could see it in your face. your mouth was slightly open and your eyes big as if they were about to come off.

“listen” he sighed. his usual charm wasn't shining through, he didn't look badass or tough. he was fidgeting with his fingers, and couldn't meet your gaze. “my parents keep pressuring me to find a girlfriend and i was figuring... you are smart and all- i think they'd like you. and they would leave me alone once and for all”

he was kidding. he had to be.

“what?” you repeated, laughing out loud, waiting for him to crack the joke. but he didn't. “are you serious?”

he nodded. by the way he still looked at everywhere but your eyes you could see he did mean it.

“it would be only a dinner. for them to like, meet you. that's all”

“and what’s in it for me?”

“i'll do anything. i'll do your homework, tell the teacher the project thing was my fault, i'll pay you, heck whatever you want. please”

you wondered why this was making jaemin so desperate. the usually collected jaemin. you also wondered if it really bothered you. yeah, you didn't exactly felt like giving out favors to him, but really, it wouldn't be much trouble. it was better than doing his homework, after all.

“only a dinner”.

you were standing in front of jaemin's door at the moment, him hesitating to come in just as you were. he was nervous.

“remind me again why i'm doing this” you breathed out.

“listen, it's for science. do it for our project alright?”

“not really since we already failed that one” he groaned at your remark.

“y/n, not now”

“you know, if you had asked me to do this at that time i would have still done it. and i don't understand why you had to be selfish about the project. if you want to ruin your life that’s fine by me, just don’t take me down with you”

“seriously, y/n”

you were interrupted by the door opening, a grown woman with a teethy smile coming into view.

“jaemin! y/n! come in” she gave you both a big hug and guided you towards the house.

sitting at the table, you felt bad. jaemin's parents were so excited to have you, asking lots of questions and being really generous. you didn't enjoy lying to them.

“how was school, jaemin?” his dad asked as he passed you the mashed potatoes. jaemin cleared his throat.

“it was good. they made me captain of the team” he smiled excitedly. you had heard around that the boy was really good at football, but the idea of him having something he enjoyed at school seemed impossible. it was sort of relieving that it was true, though.

“well, i always tell jaemin sports aren't gonna get him anywhere. am i right y/n?” the man looks at you with expectant eyes and a laugh that pierced through your ears. you peeked at jaemin, who had darted his eyes towards his plate.

“i think you will lead my son into the right path. he tells me you're very smart, i heard you won the maths olympics?”

the rest of the meal carried out the same way, jaemin's parents asking about all your accomplishments and future plans while he just ate in silence.

after helping his mom clear the table, she told you to leave the rest to her and find jaemin, who had gone to the backyard. he was sitting on the tree trunk, eyes lost and unfocused.

you sat down next to him. you wanted to say something, but had no idea which words to pick.

“you look just like your mom” he nodded, still paying attention to the ground.

“i told you they'd like you”

“yeah, me or my mathematic skills” you tried joking, not really knowing how to be around jaemin yet, but his soft laugh made you feel relieved.

he didn't say anything after that. but he noticed your squirming, so he looked at you, waiting for you to add something.

“i'm sorry about your parents” he brushed it off with a gesture.

“they've always been like that”

“have you tried talking to them?”

“they never listen” he took a deep breath. “that's why i thought that if i brought you home as my girlfriend, they'd be less disappointed in me”

“didn't you tell me they were pressuring you?”

“yeah, that was sort of a lie” he smiled again. “i just wanted to make them proud”

quiet fell upon you for a moment.

“you will when you become the best football player in history”

he looked at you and you shared some smiles, turning away almost instantly.

“you didn't have to do this, thank you. i can do that long ass essay mr.groff gave us if you like” you gave him a look, asking if he was the best option to do your homework. “i've actually already done it” he handed you his phone, showing the long google document. you were taken aback by how well the paper was written.

“jaemin, you could get an a with this” he shrugged. “why don't you ever do your assignments?”

“i guess people never expect anything from me, so i don't show them otherwise”

that was the first time you understood jaemin. it wasn't that he acted like that because he was lazy or a bad boy, it was nothing more that he felt like he had to fit the image everyone had of him. everyone treated him as if he was uncapable, so why even try to change the opinions everyone formed?

“i’ll walk you out” while you went over some possible replies in your head, he was faster.

“goodbye mrs, see you soon” you hugged the woman before following jaemin towards the door.

“don’t worry, you don’t have to come back ever again” he whispered and you giggled.

the next day, you showed up at jaemin’s football practice. you sat on the stands, watching him run behind the ball. he was good. he surely wasn’t named captain for no reason.

when practice had ended, you went down the stairs, standing in front of the boy until he noticed you. he looked at you in shock, staring at the notebooks of different colors that your arms were holding.

“what are you doing here?” his voice was sweet.

“we’re going to your house to revise for the upcoming exams” he took a pause, biting into his cheek. a small grin creeping up on his face.

“really?”

“your mom told me she’d bake cookies the next time i came round after all, so”

“okay, let’s go” he tilted his head towards the field exit, leading the way.

he knew he was going to be the one opening the door to for you today. he knew he was about to let you in in more ways than one.

[whats-the-story-tc]

22nd of January, 2020

"The One with the Madhouse and Her Eyes"

[LONG POST]

Another day, another flannel. Huh. All I needed is to complain.

Last night, at about 11:30 PM-ish, my cousin (who lives with us) came in, and we had a good long talk about what I'm planning for the future. When I mentioned the A level Literature thing, and that I'm scared of it, but I found it important to add that "my teacher is a fantastic person", so the only reason I was scared is my own abilities. Which is quite right. But on to today, the proof to my statement.

Pocketwatch Friend needed to talk to V, so there we were again, seeking—but this time, finding. She stood in the huge bunch of people in the part of the corridor designated for teachers, as with the second term starting soon, everyone is going slightly mad and needs to talk to everyone all at once. When we showed up, V greeted us with a "What can I help you [the plural] with? I don't have any time by the way, but what can I help you with?" Then I backed away, outside the glass door separating the teachers' area from the other half of that floor and let them speak. Later, when I saw V leave, she was visibly quite moody.

We spoke about her, Pocketwatch Friend and I. She brought how scared she was of V at first, like I was, but when she was taking an exam and V was very kind to her and tried to comfort her with things like "It's okay, I forget what the examples of this and that are, too...", she grew to love her. My case is quite the same although a little different.

Lunch break after fourth period, in front of our classroom. V is listening to people from the other class in our year recite their poems, I'm waiting for my friends. As we gather up and talk, and V is alone, she comes up to us with her personal schedule in hand to tell us the bad news—when our classes will be. Tuesday 5th, Thursday 3rd, Friday 7th-8th double. Yes, you've read that last one correctly. They put a double lesson of an important subject into the time slot where all the school celebrations are and where it gets cancelled most of the time, so basically, they ensured we will get fucking nowhere with the curriculum. V wasn't at all happy about it (she explicitly stated she didn't ask for this), even though she tried to be in good spirits for our sake and even grinned as we spoke to her. But when I looked into her eyes, I could see how tired she was.

Her eyes are a bit cat-like when she's tired or not feeling well, that's something I noticed. Her gaze is very sharp and kind of intimidating at first glance, but if you look long enough, or know her well enough, you can see all that weight of whatever's wrong in them. This is why I used to be so scared of her, because the piercing look is all I saw. But when she's feeling well, you can see all that wisdom and all that beauty I never really saw before I met her properly, in class. Now that is what got me sold on her, long before I even realised it. I have never met someone so beautiful before. And I might never will.

And now, something(s) that absolutely had my jaw on the floor and my heart pounding in the best way. The title of this blog has never, ever been more fitting.

New schedule for the new term. New teacher coming in for foreign English (from now on I'll just say foreign English and V's English to help differentiate), everything is a mess and not even the teachers understood what was going on around them, much less us. So some of us, in absolute hysterics because of the buffoonery going on, just went to V as soon as we saw her, as she was nearest. She made this face of "oof" when Debate Friend told her about some changes that were made. Then I asked her about the new teacher. She was the only one who knew this is a whole new guy, then told us "but don't storm your homeroom teacher. She's really not doing well." And there they were again. The concerned eyes. It was just a short look, mostly directed at me, but we understood immediately.

I kept on fuming the whole German class through, then immediately headed towards the teachers' lounge with some of my friends, to look for my (now ex-)foreign English teacher. Poor thing didn't even know our classes with her today got cancelled. She then went along to hug me and say "I won't teach you anymore", which threw me off, as I thought she hated my guts in the past 3 years. I'm gonna miss her a lot, and it's a shame our group got taken away from her, which neither us, nor she asked for.

But onto V. As we were waiting by the stairway leading up there, my homeroom teacher and V were walking there together. They may have just met on the way, but I honestly think V accompanied her on purpose, because... that's her. She would do it to anyone in a heartbeat. Plus, V is kind of our surrogate homeroom teacher mainly for this reason—to help the actual one, as she can't deal with everything all at once alone. Later, as our homeroom teacher came to us with "Don't ask anything", then proceeded to tell us everything that was wrong, V walked by briefly upstairs, shooting us a look. But as I was walking home, ranting to my Dad over the phone in tears from frustration, as the situation really was that chaotic, something else also happened. I'll just translate what Pocketwatch Friend texted me when I asked her to tell me. (Don't worry, she knows about the blog, though she's never read my posts as of yet. She knows I'm writing to you guys about this, and she consented.)

"I'm going down the stairs, there's [a girl from our year], [friend of ours] and Art Friend. I'm telling Art Friend that you spoke to [ex-English teacher] and she doesn't know what's really up, when V comes down the stairs with her cute little hat and looks at us. She shoots a small smile so maybe she can brighten the situation and joins our little circle, then says 'Don't be nervous, okay?' [...] Then I added that we're fine, but this uncertainty is a bit concerning. And that not even the teachers know what's going on. Her face lights up, I could almost hear her mentally yelling 'Finally someone normal!' #noego I can't exactly remember what happened then, but that much I know that after a short exchange she looked back at me/us from the bottom of the stairs saying that 'Don't stress and TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES'"

She then proceeded to tell me that she finds her cute and now she totally understands me because to her, V is like a big sister she can't wait to ask how her day was and if she could help her with maths. She really does understand the love part, too, though, and tells me every time she wishes she could help. (And called what I wrote about V after Friday beautiful, as I showed her the more private part you guys didn't get to see.) Though I think my case is just a step or maybe two less platonic than hers is, as I actually call it love, it's probably still just more of an extreme case of admiration.

But like... how could I not admire (or love or whatever this is) her? How could any sane person not? I called myself a guardian angel yesterday, but... I'm a demon compared to her. I'm in awe of her kindness each and every day, I really am. Hence the title. "All the little ways she cares."

I have no idea what I'd do if she was the one they swapped out without warning. But if we're going with the demon metaphor... I was frustrated and angry today. But then, I'd raise hell. For her? Without question.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[maddieinjapan]

First Days

Here is what I’ve been doing for the first few days in Tokyo. 

Aug 31st:

 After spending the night in a hotel at Fujiyama, my mom and I caught a train back into Tokyo. After we got off at the train station and found St. Margaret’s, I met my advisor, Mr. Yamamoto, at St. Margaret’s to take a tour of the school. After seeing St. M’s in person for the first time, I was surprised about how old the school is. I would describe the main building as looking like a very old, traditional, English boarding school. I think it will be a nice change from St. Stephen’s somewhat modern campus. After the school tour, I got to see my schedule for my first week of school. Since the Japanese school year starts in April and ends in March, I am arriving at the beginning of the second term. In addition to that, I am arriving when everyone is in their final preparations for exams. Due to those two factors, my first week’s schedule is pretty tame. For the most part, I am just taking Japanese lessons and a few Math and Science classes. I think getting adjusted to a new school is going to be pretty hectic (with everyone getting ready for exams), so it's nice to know that my schedule won't be stressful. 

 Once Haruka and her mother arrived, (my host sister and host mom) we headed back to their house for dinner. We got to their house at about 5 pm so we killed time by eating some snacks, chatting, and getting to know each other. For snacks, I had some corn tea, which tastes like corn flakes but in tea form, (it sounds nasty but I promise it’s good) some seaweed snacks from South Korea, some pretzels covered in toffee, and a few pieces of chocolate. I was all really good! At about 6:30, dinner was delivered and while my host family was setting up dinner, my mom and I started to unpack all of my luggage.

 As soon as dinner was set up, my mom and I came to a stopping point in unpacking and we went into the dining room to get ready to eat. Before dinner started, I met my other host sister, Rika; two of their little cousins, who are each 10 and 7 years old; my host sister’s aunt; and my host father. After taking a few pictures with everyone, we sat down to eat. For dinner, we had soo much food. There were tons of different types of sushi, a delicious dish that had mushrooms, wagyu beef, noodles, and other types of vegetables in it; bread with dried figs in it and for dessert, we had a really good chocolate cake and a fruit tart that had “welcome Maddie” written on it. I tried so many types of sushi. I think I had fatty tuna, regular tuna, a roll with Natto in it, a large roll with some sort of meat and vegetables, sea eel, and another spring roll type thing with what tasted like cream cheese and salmon. It was all the best sushi I’ve ever had, but it didn’t top the dish with the wagyu beef in it. It was prepared on the table with an electric burner and a kind of pot on it. Like I said before, it had noodles, mushrooms, Wagyu beef, and some other vegetables in it. I was cooked in a broth/soup but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It tasted so great! For dessert, we had two different cakes. One, which was my host father’s favorite, was a vanilla cake with some chocolate frosting. The other one, was a fruit tart with the message “welcome Maddie” written on it. It was so nice of them to do that! After cake, it was getting late and my mom had to get on a plane back to the United States the next day, so it was time to say goodbye.:( After goodbyes, I finished unpacking, took a shower, and went to bed. 

Sept 1st

 I slept in until about 9:30, and after getting up, I had some breakfast that my host mom prepared. We had peaches, yellow kiwis, and bread. Since my host parents are orthodontists, they have to work on the weekends, so after and I sat down for breakfast, my host mom left for work. Because of Haruka’s exams next week, she has to spend most of the weekend studying. Before lunch, I either read a book or worked on this blog post. We had lunch around one, and then after that, Haruka and I got dressed and went to Shibuya to get some basic school supplies for me. When we got home, Haruka had to study again, so she showed me how to watch movies on the TV. I watched The Little Mermaid and the new Beauty and Beast. Shortly after my host mom got home, we left to go eat dinner at a local restaurant. The walk took about 5 minutes, and once we got there, my host dad was already there waiting for us. We ordered sooo much food. There were chicken skewers, a giant rice ball with seaweed, a pancake-like thing called tepanyaki, slices of avocado with chicken on it, some blackened chicken, and some soup with rice in it. It was all really good. After we finished eating, Rika wanted to go to Starbucks for dessert. The Starbucks was right across the street from where we ate, so it didn’t take long at all to get there. At Starbucks, Haruka and Rika got matcha frappucinos, I got a mango tea smoothie, and we all shared some cake. It was kind of late once we got home, so I just took a showered and went to sleep.

Sept 2nd

  I slept in a little later, and once I woke up, my host mom had already left for work. Before lunch, I watched some Japanese TV with Haruka and made sure I had everything ready for school. Around lunchtime, Haruka’s grandmother came a brought us some pork sandwiches and pastries decorated like animals. (I posted pictures of my lunch earlier) It was quite good. After lunch, we couldn’t go and do anything because it was too rainy outside. It’s monsoon season right now, and a monsoon is coming in a few days. So, I just hung out a watched some more Japanese TV and played with this putty stuff made out of recycled cranes that I got in Hiroshima. At around 5, my host mom called and told my host sisters and me to meet her at the local supermarket. At the supermarket, I got to pick out my breakfast for the week, as well as some snacks I wanted to eat. Once we got home, my host mother gave me my school bus pass, and Haruka and I went to go see if we could find a spare pass holder. For dinner, I had some salad, steamed vegetables, and rice and beef curry. The salad had little white bits in it that I thought was shredded cheese, but upon closer inspection, I found out that it was tiny shrimp! I ate the salad anyways, and I was glad to not be able to taste it. Over dinner, my host mother showed me the bento box and chopsticks she had gotten me. She also showed me my school schedule until December. Turns out, I don't have school until October. This week is a pretty normal schedule for me, but after everyone else finishes their exams, I have half days and Mondays off for the entire month. While we were talking, Haruka saw that fireworks were being launched outside. She opened the door to the balcony so I could get a better look. I asked her, and she said that the baseball team launches fireworks out of the stadium every time they win a game. It was pretty cool! After dinner, I wrote down all the big events of my schedule in my new planner, took a shower, and finished this blog post.

I’ll be sure to update y’all on how my first day/week of school goes with pictures and blog entries. 

[therewasalittleruru]

This one is for my parents (it’s a long one)

I called my dad tonight after work, letting him know that I had been elected as Communications Officer for my uni’s Psychology Society Executive.  Confession: the last two? years, I have called my family several times a week - -we live in different parts of the country and I only see them once or twice a year. 

The conversation we had made me realise more of the amazing things my parents have done that have made me the person I am now.  I wouldn’t be here without them.

I was born five and a half weeks premature, and was flown (in a prop plane) to a bigger hospital, where I spent three days in the NICU, needing breathing tubes.  There wasn’t enough room in the plane for my mum and a care team for her, so my dad drove my mum 300km to the hospital.

When I was three, my mum retired from teaching when she had my sister.  My dad, who had been a stay-at-home dad, took on multiple part time roles to provide for us.  My brother turned 5 that year, and a year or so later, my mum was the visiting music teacher, and I would go with her sometimes.  I was in the school play as a dancing flower aged 4 because one of the kids was sick.  She also played at Music ‘n’ Movement (there is a photo of me somewhere trying to do belly dancing), and helped out at the rural mobile kindergarten I went to -- I also went to town childcare as well, so I could learn social skills. 

My mum started me in highland dancing when I was 5 (I wanted to do ballet but the nearest school was 50km away), partially because they were concerned that my coordination/balance were not the best.  I have continued to do highland up to this year, and completed all of my exams.

My brother and I just about electrocuted ourselves when I was a pre-schooler by putting sticks into an electric heater. The heater shorted, and my parents then taught us the value of money, by paying us about 5 cents per load of firewood we brought in from the driveway (mine was five sticks of kindling in the trailer of my trike). 

When I was almost 5, I went to school visits. My birthday was in the term holidays, so my teacher offered a bunch of beginner books to read before I started school.  I refused, saying something along the lines of  “Reading is for school, and I’m not at school yet”.   Fast forward a couple of years, and I was sneaking out of bed, to read by hallway light - I had used the batteries in my torch.  I thought I was so clever, but my parents knew all along.  

My mum signed my brother and I up for instrumental lessons when I was 7 - he learned trumpet and I learned violin.  Whilst I don’t ‘perform’ anymore, I still regularly play my violin for church, and learning music benefited so many other areas of my life.

My parents used different rewards/punishment systems for each child -- my brother lost computer time or his allowance was docked, I was only allowed to read the assigned homework pages each day.  I can’t remember my sister’s punishments.  They taught me how to resolve conflicts, and how to make the perfect cup of decaf tea or coffee (really good ploy to stay up later - “I’ll just make myself a Milo whilst I’m making your hot drinks” and then drink it really slowly)

When I was at primary school, I loved learning.  In the senior room, I got to to special projects, and work at my own level.  My parents had chosen our primary school instead of the one closest to our house, and it was next to a sheep farm (we would do cross-country running practice in their paddocks).  The teachers there were excellent, and the educational foundation they gave students is evident in the continual academic success of part pupils at high school prize-givings.  I spent many afternoons at the library where my dad worked.

My family aren’t wealthy, and there were times when my parents really struggled financially, but they never let us know.  I had hand-me-downs from my cousins for a long time.  Sometimes my dad would say that he wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t eat dinner.  Now I know that he was.

We never went overseas, but my parents made sure we saw pretty much the entire country - and the people who lived in it.  They taught us how to interact and care for people from different backgrounds.  They taught me about my family’s history, and my country’s history.  My mum’s family live in Auckland, so we would either fly, or drive the entire way.  I can remember the time we drove a loan van from the vehicle dealership because our (used) Odyssey had broken down under warranty.  Mum and Dad made each of us a box with a map of the South and North Islands so we could draw our way up the country.  We had folders of road trip games, a disposable camera each, which we a scavenger list for photo opportunities.  Our camping trips are some of my favourite memories.

When I went to high school, my love of learning became twisted -- my sole motivation was grades.  Almost every night, I had an extracurricular.  I took the next year up’s Maths class.  I chose to take another class instead of a study line.  In my final year, I chose six subjects, four were by distance-learning.   On a Tuesday, my only taught class was in First Period. On a Friday, it was Last Period.  Every other period was spent hiding away in the science storeroom.  To top it off, I was Arts Prefect, organising most of the intra-school House arts competitions - Pavement Art, Talent Quest, Quiz night.  I was getting to sleep at 2-3am and getting up at 5:30-6am.  Anything less than an Excellence grade I viewed as a failure.  My parents noticed.  In the phone call I had with my dad tonight, he described that version of me as the most driven person he knew.  Interestingly, at the time, Pottermore sorted me into Slytherin - I kind of thought I was more of a Ravenclaw, but it is clear why now. My dad created family movie nights, as a way to unwind and laugh.  There were a few times where I almost broke (I threatened to resign from my Prefect position and only turn up to school for my taught classes).  My composition pieces for music definitely expressed the emotions I was struggling with at the time.

Through all of my ups and downs, my parents were there, encouraging me to do my best, but to be satisfied with the outcome.  They taught me that I don’t have to be perfect.  They taught me to get involved in the community and to volunteer.  They have been my anchor through some tough times, and with them I weathered the storms.  In my first year of uni, my dad was worried that I was falling into the same patterns of being completely focused on study, and forgetting about life.  I missed my Grandad’s funeral, something I still regret, so they sent me the tape.  

Over the last couple of years at uni, they have seen me spread my wings.  I have some sort of social life -- I am involved in cricket, I have a part time job, which I like to think I am good at, and now I am on the Executive for Psyc Society.  I have a (sort of) idea of what I am going to do next year.  My diet needs to improve - I need to eat more spinach, but my mental health is so much better than it was.  My grades for stats are low in comparison to my other papers, but I’m taking it for the knowledge, not the grades, and I’m seeing the payoff  of that knowledge in my Psychology Research Methods paper.  Sometimes you just need someone to be there unconditionally, and they have been.

One of the things my parents taught me was about faith.  They have always been involved in church, and I know that they have been praying for me my entire life.  I think that has been something that has saved me, when everything else has broken down.  I am an active member of my church here, and my foundation in faith has kept me grounded and secure, even in the darkest times.

This is what I am most grateful for. 

I would not be who I am today, without my parents.  Any success I have, is because of them, my friends, and my community.

[myocdstory]

My OCD Story

As a child I would count steps "one, one, two, two, three, three, four, four" on each foot and would count up to 12 (sometimes 20). Sometimes I would count like this when I was not walking. I thought I got this from Sesame Street. In middle school I was obsessed with evenness. When I ate food I would divide it evenly in my mouth. I would step on a sidewalk boxes 4 times before moving my leg to another. I'd have to walk the same number of steps on my left foot as my right foot.  I had to step on tile lines with one foot the same way as the other. In high school I became obsessed with certain events, googling them over and over again. I knew this wasn't normal and possibly rising to the level of a disorder. I played doctor and diagnosed myself with PTSD, but questioned the diagnosis as I did not fit the criteria for PTSD.

At age 19 I kept checking doors repeatedly to see if I locked them and checking toilets to make sure I flushed them. My family was annoyed with me checking the balcony door over and over during the evening, and my sister told me "you already checked" but they weren't severe enough to get help. At this point I realized I had OCD, but questioned whether I really had it since I wasn't washing my hands constantly. To be honest as a teenager I hardly washed my hands. I would wash my hands for 5 seconds after using the bathroom unless they were visibly dirty.

Then my symptoms got worse. If I walked a certain path I had to walk back the same path. I would spend 30 minutes deciding which path to take, which side of the road to walk on. If it takes 15 minutes to walk home, it would take me 1 hour to walk home. Sometimes I moved my hands instead of walking back. At this point it was clear I had OCD. When I was 20 I was late to a psychotherapy appointment because I went back to the beach boardwalk to take a different exit. I at first didn't like the idea of taking meds that would alter my brain. But I knew my OCD was severe enough that therapy alone won't help. Eventually I accepted the fact I needed meds. One time I drank a glass of champagne at a restaurant to help me quell my OCD. But that made my OCD worse. I went home and I was deciding which path to take walking back. Dad was wondering why I haven't come home yet went out to find me and yelled at me. I cried saying I needed a psychiatrist. Dad prints a list of psychiatrists in our insurance, all female. I procrastinated and then misplaced the paper. So at the last minute I used google and found a medical center nearby. I knew there was a new condo at that street and when I googled this placed google earth displayed this new condo. I couldn't find a doctor's name so I assumed there were multiple doctors in one practice. On Friday April 21, I made an appointment. The next available appointment was on Monday April 24. They were literally available all day.

When I got there I saw this place wasn't located in the beautiful condo, but in an old commercial space next door to it. I brought my mom along because I was nervous and she was paying. I filled out a questionnaire. Office staff said I had to take a urinalysis and I asked why since I was there for OCD. Then I saw the psychiatrist. I told him I had OCD and told him my symptoms, "such as walking back and forth, repeating certain phrases, counting steps, etc." He asks as bunch of questions about my history and does the mental status exam, such as who is the president, math problems, what would you do, etc. He asks me checklist questions about my OCD which I could only answer "yes" or "no" such as "do you wash hands" "do you arrange objects" "do you have religious obsessions"?. I answered "no" to many of the questions but most of the questions did not match my symptoms. He continues to ask about my history then asks to speak to my mom. I say no and he says he just wants to ask her questions. He asks about history such as marriage, pregnancy, when I was a young child, etc. Then my mom starts complaining about me sleeping all day, how my dad yelled because of something I did last night, etc. I told her to be quiet but doc insists I let her speak. Doctor asks how old I am and I said I was 21. He said I looked 15, and yes I do look younger than I am. Doctor thought at 21 I should be independent from my parents. At 1st he was discussing a residential facility. He said they have a schedule they will enforce so I can't sleep all day. He then says a residential facility will see I'm smart and suggested a supported apartment. He asked me what I want to be and we started talking about my career plans. He says to call Ohel which offers a supported apartment and employment training. He said he isn't going to prescribe medication as he felt it wasn't needed. I asked "what are you going to do about the OCD?" and he answers with the dismissive gesture that he will treat the OCD. He doesn't make a follow up appointment. I then did the urinalysis and handed office staff the cup. Then I was walking back and forth in and out of the bathroom, touching things until it felt right. I asked the office staff when is the next appointment and they said I can always call to schedule an appointment. I didn't know when to schedule the next appointment. After all they have a lot of availability. I was angry after the appointment. Later that day my mom told me that in order for the doctor to prescribe meds I have to first be evaluated by Ohel. She told me the psychiatrist can't prescribe meds at the first appointment. That night my dad told me to call Ohel.

The next day I heard my mom call Ohel so I picked up the phone. She told them I am "svoyeobraznaya" in Russian which translates as "peculiar" or "not like everyone else". The director told my mom that "is not a diagnosis" and they need a diagnosis. Mom starts telling them diagnosis unrelated to my OCD. I insist she hang up the phone and she got mad. I was not willing to call Ohel after this because I thought she would ruin everything like she did with the appointment. I debated whether I should make another appointment with this doctor. While one part of me said "well this is his treatment plan" I wasn't comfortable with him.

I was still complaining about OCD. I just wanted out of this hell. My dad told me to look for a new psychiatrist and if he has to pay out of pocket, this will be the last psychiatrist he will pay for. I was very picky about my psychiatrist, and would not choose anyone with less than 4 star ratings. He has great reviews, most of which mention medication, is a few blocks from me, and a professional member of the American Psychiatric Association, wrote in his description he treats OCD, and in our insurance plan. But the earliest available appointment was a month away. So, I went to my primary care physician. I was hoping he'd prescribe something to get me out of this hell, but my plan was not to mention medication as I don't want him to think I'm drug seeking.

Doctor leads me to the exam room asking what brings me here. I told him "I am here for OCD If I walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk I have to walk back. I avoid stepping on manhole covers." He says they cannot treat OCD but can refer me to professionals who will. Then he asks me "are you taking meds for this?" and I said no. He asks "why aren't you taking meds?" and I told him I already went to a psychiatrist and he thought I didn't need meds. Doc says "That's not true. You do need meds." I told him I made an appointment with another psychiatrist on ZocDoc but it's a month away. He takes my height and weight at the front of the office and my mom was there. "I will refer you to providers where you don't have to wait a month." Then doc writes the number to a neurologist and Maimonides psychology. He asks what's the name of the doc who refused to prescribe meds. I answered and he says "forget about him". I asked if I should cancel the appointment and he says no. He says "see a neurologist because a psychiatrist will just dismiss her as drug seeking". Mom told him I torture her saying I have OCD. Doc says I am right to torture her as OCD is serious. He told my mom to take this OCD seriously. My mom later told me I went to the wrong specialist.

When I got home dad told me that the neurologist he referred us to isn't in our insurance and gave me a list of doctors in our insurance. One wasn't accepting new patients. One didn't pick up the phone. I called another one and it was in TWO WEEKS. She said there is another neurologist in their office which was available sooner. I said yes and dad googled her to make sure she was in our insurance plan and she was. When I saw her she said I have to see a psychiatrist for OCD. I told her I already saw a psychiatrist who refused to treat my OCD and my primary care doctor said to see a neurologist. She said in the Soviet Union neurologists treated OCD but in America psychiatrists treat OCD and canceled my appointment. So I went to the right specialist all along.

My only option was to wait for the psychiatrist. Waiting is hell. Especially if you are suffering. When I had the appointment with the psychiatrist, I described my symptoms. This psychiatrist has a 2nd job as he is involved in clinical trials. That's why it takes a month to get an appointment. On the 1st appointment he prescribes Prozac 20mg and a refill as he will be on vacation.  I asked about Zoloft and he said Zoloft was not approved for OCD, which isn't true.  Prozac is one pill a day and Zoloft is two pills a day morning and evening. I figured one pill is better than two.

The next day I took the drug and saw it working. I was no longer avoiding gum patches. At first the medicine made me depressed and gave me cold-like symptoms. But those side effects went away. In a month the dose is increased to 40mg. It no longer mattered what I stepped on, manhole covers, sidewalk ventilation grates, cigarette butts, you name it. I stopped walking back and forth.

When I realized I had OCD, I began doing a lot of research. During this research, I discovered I had symptoms of OCD as a child. I didn't know the counting I did, the way I walked, or my obsession with events in high school were all symptoms of OCD. What I went through in high school was called "pure-o", a type of OCD without overt compulsions. This type of OCD is never talked about .The OCD symptoms we talk about are washing hands, arranging objects and being a perfectionist. I was none of that. My room was a mess in high school. If it weren't for my parents cleaning my room, I would be like those people on the hoarder TV shows. After I started medication my dad and I cleaned out my room and I realized I was a hoarder. I couldn't throw away old catalogues, my sister's 2011-12 high school directory (she already graduated high school), etc. When I did research I learned that hoarding is a symptom of OCD.

So I ended up leaving a negative review about the first psychiatrist. I then began to read other reviews about him, most of which were negative. One was that he refused to treat people. Another one is that he seemed irritated working with patients. This is basically how I felt with him. Another review was written after mine. The doctor wrote a prescription incorrectly and patient pointed it out. Doctor begins to chastise the patient saying they are not his only patient, and they cannot expect special treatment, like the doctor returning patient's call. The only reason the patient goes back to them is because they have a lot of availability and the patient needs their meds. I see why they have a lot of availability. This doctor sucks so every patient leaves and doesn't go back to him. Once I left him thank goodness I didn't make another appointment.

[mathematicianadda]

Fun Ways to Beat the Summer Slide

It was a busy summer. We’d taken our first overseas vacation. We moved from California to Texas, spending three days in the car with just enough belongings to start our household before the moving truck arrived several days later. We arrived in Austin in time for our daughter to experience her first summer T-storm where the air is warm, but its pouring rain—quite a phenomenon to a six-year-old from Southern California.

Combating Summer Slide

My daughter was excited and nervous about starting first grade in a new school. She came home from that first day thrilled about her teacher, Miss Reneau, and her classmates, but frustrated that she’d had some challenges remembering how to do things she knew she’d learned in kindergarten. 

Ten years later, I don’t recall what those things were, but I do remember noticing effects of the “summer slide” as I looked over the work she brought home, and in the little homework assignments she had those first few weeks of school. I knew then that it would take effort to keep her both in the habit of school, and help her retain what she’d learned during the summer months.

That particular “summer slide” wasn’t terrible; we’d read plenty of books together, and had all kinds of conversations about the things we experienced together. There are 528 steps in St Paul’s Cathedral. Custard has different ingredients than ice cream, but it’s still sold in a cone at the bottom of those 528 steps. Scottish broadswords are longer than she was tall, and the Mons Meg cannon could fire cannon balls that weighed 400 pounds! There are 1,364 miles, and two whole other states (our route took us through Arizona and New Mexico) between Orange County, CA and Austin, TX, and it was only a half-mile walk from our new home to her new school.

Having these sorts of discussions with our kids, and answering their endless “why” questions is one way that we can support their learning, their curiosity, and intrinsic motivation to continue learning. These discussions don’t require extra planning, or preparation, they just require attention and focused listening. They also don’t require any special destination. I remember curious conversations about tomato worms (hornworms), because they looked like the plant they were eating. There is curious stuff all around us.

Curiosity doesn’t have to slip away as our kids grow older. My daughter recently shared alarming statistics on corporate farming that she’d uncovered for a presentation in her English class. Once she finishes her final exams, I’ll share an article I found on the difference one person can make with some good research, and a strong message focused on the right recipients. I also know she intends to spend many summer hours at the beach where I hope she’ll learn to read and ride the waves, and check out all the creatures living in the rocks along the jetty.

Some school work habits are harder to maintain over the summer. Summer is for fun and for downtime, especially unplanned, unorganized, unscheduled fun.

But having been a teacher, been raised by a teacher, having siblings who are teachers, and conducting research with teachers and students, I do know that kids who have to spend time ramping back up, can fall quickly behind come September.

What I found though, after that summer between kindergarten and first grade, is that it doesn’t take much for kids to keep their work habits in gear for an easy back to school transition. We had a fair-trade rule in our house. Extra screen time was traded for extra book time. Play Wii or a game on mom’s phone for 20 minutes, read for 20 more minutes. Watch a 30-minute TV show, read for 30 minutes.

Curiosity Driven Learning

We also had summer “homework” folders. At the completion of each homework folder was a little treat—a visit to a favorite park, a yummy sweet, or a special activity with mama. These folders had tasks in them appropriate to her age. She might play Yahtzee to practice her multiplication skills, or bake to work on her fraction skills. When she struggled with reading comprehension, she had to find things she was interested in to read about, and then tell her dad or I about them.

A visit to a discovery center sparked an interest in electricity and how it was made, how it made its way into our house, and how it was used by the things in our house. After limitless “how” and “why” questions—the answers to which were waaaaaay beyond our knowledge, and honestly, even our interest—my husband and I decided that her summer homework would be to answer her own questions and share her discoveries with us.

One summer she became super interested in photography, so she learned about light and shadow, and how to put together a concise, interesting PowerPoint presentation—a skill necessary to those next few years of school and beyond.

Some years, she continued working in a workbook or writing journal that came home on the last day of school with pages yet unfilled. Some years she read every book in a series she loved. Always there were conversations about what she was learning—even what she learned from reading fictional stories about fantastic characters. In recent years, she’s shared some of her favorite books with me, and we’ve had engaging discussions about choices the characters made, or the societal wrongs in the story.

Strengthening Relationships & Mathematical Understanding

Through the years, my small efforts to thwart the summer slide have become wonderful relationship builders with my kid. I have a teenager and we get along. We don’t always agree, but we can discuss, negotiate, strategize, and solve together.

By attending to, and encouraging her problem-solving abilities early on, we’ve given her tools she needs to navigate the pitfalls and pathways of being an American teenager.

My daughter spent time in three elementary schools between kindergarten and 5th grade. Unfortunately, none of these, nor her middle school, used ST Math. In fact, she was in high school before I learned about MIND Research Institute and ST Math. As MIND Research Institute supports the 1.2M+ students who have ST Math accounts, we remind teachers to turn on access to all content so kids can continue to play over the summer months.

I can’t help but think how much fun it would have been for my daughter to play ST Math games as one of her “homework folder” tasks. I know it would have deepened her problem-solving skills and her persistence (though that could’ve been a double-edged sword as persistence is not something she lacks!). Maybe the fun activity with mama would have been for mama to try to figure out the challenge games my daughter beat!

Teachers, please turn on all content so your students can continue to play ST Math in the summer months.

Parents, consider checking with your kids’ teachers to make sure they have summer access.

Wishing you all a fun, MINDful, and curious summer!

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