*tics obscenely* I'm not sorry.

This movie is about 3 different young adults who are attending a type of rehab center to learn how to better control their mental illness. All three suffer from different types of mental illness but they soon come to find that together they start to create a bond that helps them cope better with their trials. This movie is really beautiful and it made me understand mental illness a bit better.

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Not everyone learns the same way.

When I was in nursing school, I didn’t take notes in class. You know what I did? I played endless games of pocket tetris. The chair of the nursing program approached me about it once, going so far as to say that she thought for a time that I must have copies of her tests, since I aced everything she tested us on, even though I never appeared to be paying attention.

Visual learners, auditory learners, hands-on learners - everyone’s heard of those types, sure. But that’s not all there is. There’s a 4th learning style that is actually best suited to splitting the focus between disparate activities to learn most effectively. For me, that was playing repetative games or doodling, coloring print outs of Sailor Moon characters or fiddling with small ‘fidget’ toys. An English Lit professor had identified this as my learning style a couple years earlier and lo and behold, I started learning better when I started catering to my actual learning style.

I was lucky; the chair of the nursing program knew about the learning style I exhibited and didn’t bother me again about the fact I sat in the back and played mindless games in her classes. The goal of class is to learn, right? What the fuck does it matter if the person learning does so via note taking or doodling or looking at puppies? To this day I most effectively form associations and recall memories of things I’ve listened to by doing something very different with my hands and eyes.

We got a new manager who was upset to see me drawing through my calls, even though I had some of the best stats in the company.  He told my supervisor to take my paper away.  I started drawing on my desk (not on purpose, just as a reflex).  He took my pencils away.

My stats plummeted.

This wasn’t me being stubborn or refusing to work: I was trying, I just couldn’t do it.  I had no focus or ability to retain what I heard from customers.  Finally, my supervisor gave me back my art supplies, and everything went back to normal.

They won’t tell you that you become you’re biggest critic

They won’t tell you you’ll never believe someone loves you tic’s and all

They won’t tell you that your tics will feel like a different person

They won’t tell you that you’ll be convinced you’re crazy

They won’t tell you that the you’ll always feel stared at in public

They won’t tell you that you’ll fall asleep crying and wake up ticing

They won’t tell you people will constantly question your disease

They won’t tell you that normal people won’t and can’t understand

They won’t tell you that most people won’t even try to understand