From the other side

I’d love to be able to paint a portrait of the psychologist who ran the test on my neurocognitive abilities.

After the tumor, I’ve had, and still have, constant issues with memory and focus.

Even now, while I’m recording these words, I have to close my eyes to find them in my mind. I push myself slightly ahead of what I’m actually saying.

I experience a kind of disconnect: my mouth is talking, but I’m already thinking of the words that come next, just a bit further ahead. It’s like I have to balance between two timelines: thought and voice.

I had to learn these techniques just to be able to talk to people. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to. I couldn’t follow a conversation, couldn’t hold a discussion.

I did this check with the psychologist so I could apply for protected work status.

I don’t know if it’ll be approved. It would be nice to know I’m not “sick enough” to qualify, but at the same time, even if I’m not, I know I can’t work like I used to.

My focus is fragmented. I can’t follow a continuous line of logic. I need frequent breaks, I need to work asynchronously.

I organize myself in scattered pockets throughout the day. That’s the only way I manage to get anything done, because I can’t follow other people’s pace anymore. I can’t switch quickly between tasks, I can’t always understand what people around me are saying.

Right now, it’s even harder. I’m home with my daughters. Staying focused for a whole hour is almost impossible. Even now, while I was recording, I had to stop. They came in to show me the comics they’re drawing.

I work in the bathroom. I put some cushions on the floor, in front of the sink. It’s become a space where I can concentrate. Maybe because it’s tucked away from the rest of the house.

The psychologist was kind. She put up with the way I am, my discomfort with labels and roles hidden behind a desk.

At one point she joked with my partner. She asked if she had noticed that I’d lost my inhibitions. But my partner replied right away: no, he hasn’t lost them. He’s always been like this. It’s just that now, he filters less. Actually, not at all. Honestly, I don’t even remember how much I used to filter before.

She was really helpful too: she wrote the report incredibly fast. So today I can already go to the doctor, collect the paperwork for protected status, and bring it to the union.

I’d love to draw her. As a thank-you. She’d see in the portrait what I told her while explaining how I see the world. She’d see herself, from my point of view, from the chair where I was sitting.

Years ago, my psychologist told me he envied my ability to see beyond what reality offered in his medical room. I get it. Even if it’s always a strange game between those who live in concrete reality, and those who observe it without fully grasping its weight.