How my brain works (and why it matters)

I used to think something was wrong with the way I learned. Repetition didn’t stick. Instructions got lost. Words disappeared just when I needed them and conversations moved too fast. It took me a long time to understand how my brain works differently.

I have a combination of Dyspraxia, CAPD, Dysnomia, and Aphantasia. Each one affects a different part of how I process the world. Together they create a very specific way of thinking.

Meaning comes first

My mind works in whole ideas, not in sentences. I don’t naturally build meaning step by step through words. Instead, the meaning is already there and I have to translate it into language. 

Why speaking is harder then writing 

When I speak, I have to do several things at once: I process what I hear, organise my thoughts, find the right words and say them in order. All at the same time. Sometimes the words don’t come. Not because I don’t know them but because they don’t arrive when I need them. So, I pause and search. 

Writing is different.The idea unfolds naturally, almost like it already exists, and I’m just putting it into words. There is no time pressure. I can pause, shape, and adjust.  Sometimes I scan random text until a word clicks or use a thesaurus.

How I learn

Traditional learning often relies on repetition and step-by-step instruction. That doesn’t work well for me.

What does work is: understanding the concept, connecting it to something I already know and rebuilding it in my own way. To do that I use metaphors, analogies, and patterns “this is like…”  That’s how I create conceptual hooks.

Most people start with words and build meaning through sentences I start with meaning and move toward words. That’s a different direction.

Why this matters

From the outside, this way of thinking can look like difficulty: pauses in speech, slower responses, missing words
But underneath there is often a rich understanding and a strong sense of meaning. Understanding this has changed how I see myself. This isn’t just my story! I learned to adapt however and from that shift, this poem emerged: 

Garden of freedom

                                                        

She kept on
loving, living, learning
after the world trembled
the ground splitting
beneath her sanctuary

She crossed
the deep blue ache,
emerging from the water                                                  
last droplets
sliding from her skin.

She walked forward
alive
capable,
not by ease,
but by a quiet refusal
to let the world diminish her.

And slowly she shaped
a garden of freedom
wherever her feet fell,
a flower unfurled,
catching her breath
like a blessing,
like sunlight spilling
into a long-shadowed room.