In 6 Days

      My mother feels a little bad now about missing my birthday. Which was preventable. So, for the seventeenth my brother invited my mother's boyfriend and his mother to a restaurant dinner. Only after a few days, I have to ask if we're still doing that and it turns out we're not. Instead, we're all eating at home. So, while it all changes, nothing's different. If that makes sense.
      Why don't people tell me their plans anymore? At least when I was a kid, and they would force me into these things; I knew what we were doing. Now that I have a choice, it seems I'm informed at the last minute - unless I weasel the information out of them. I feel so unheard sometimes. And not just because of all that; but because lately, when I try to speak to them, they just don't hear me. Like, if they ask for my opinion and I give it to them, that's one thing; but if I try to contribute to the conversation like a normal person whose say matters, they don't even look at me.
      I can see my own hand. Is it safe to assume my body still has mass?
      They only really notice me when I don't do something right. I turned 22, but they're still treating me like a child. And nothing I say will ever be enough; because while I always mean what I say, I can never just say what I mean. I always struggle with that and no one understands. Hence, they tell me I am the one who fails to understand them. If only I were incapable of speaking and had no other choice but to communicate through electronics! Then, finally, with a quick press of the Delete button and some recalculations; I would be understood.
      Unless of course I had Auto Correct. Man, I would love to send an Auto-Corrected message to someone. I watch Clumsy Thumbsy clips from Ellen all the time; and it never ceases to make me laugh. Or at least wish I could laugh without getting dizzy.
      Speaking of, my epilepsy actually hasn't bothered me for maybe two weeks. Now that I think about it, it's quite amazing...I've just been lightheaded and sleepy. Really nothing in comparison to a dizzy spell. And still, my mother and brother think that all forms of dizziness are the same. They think they know exactly what I feel when I go down. They're just hypochondriacs who think they know everything when they know sh*t. But anyway, as I was saying, I haven't made the decision yet if I should consult my doctor about surgery. It's just a really big step. It could kill me, if it's not done right. And if I die...well, I won't get dizzy! Or feel tired, or hurt, or wish I were someplace else. Well, I would, if dead people had the power to think.
      Which reminds me, I need to write my book. 'Bye!