If I'm playing a trivia game, and I get an answer wrong, I mentally call myself stupid. If I am posting online or practicing my typing skills, and I make a typo, I mentally call myself stupid. If I make an error of any kind, if someone criticizes me for whatever reason, or if in any way I show myself to be less than perfect, I mentally call myself stupid.

Sometimes verbally as well.

Despite a higher than average IQ, I am firm in my belief that I am stupid. People have accused me of being a know-it-all, thinking I'm smarter than everyone else, and wearing my IQ on my sleeve, but the plain truth is exactly the opposite. Deep down, I consider myself very, very stupid. I can't seem to shake the delusion, no matter what the evidence. Its roots are too deep. Even if I do look at intellect, I immediately discount it as something that "doesn't matter." What does matter is whatever I lack: Hollywood-standard beauty, athletic ability, or social skills. Those are the things that make a person popular. Not brains. Nobody likes nerds.

I think this began in second grade, when I was a new student in a class where people somehow got the idea that I was--well, it is now called "mentally challenged" or "delayed." The word that was used back then is filtered out on some support sites now. It rhymes with "she started." People at that school weren't saying it to be mean. They honestly believed I was what they said. Intellect was not a measure. Never mind that I was among the best readers in my class, and got high grades on the papers I turned in. My lack of athletic ability, being years slower than other children in learning to throw a ball accurately or ride a bicycle, that's what got me the label.

Keep in mind that when I say "people," I don't mean only my classmates. I overheard many a teacher telling the children to be nice to me because I couldn't help it. They too had it in their heads that I was (that word). In fact on one occasion, my own mother lost her temper because I didn't understand what she was saying. Knowing what was going on at school, she yelled in anger, "Sometimes I think you really ARE mentally (that word)!" Immediately she apologized and told me it had been a cruel thing to say. But even then, I noticed: She didn't deny it. She did not add, "Of course it isn't true. You're not that." This left the door open for me to conclude that she did think that, but was apologizing for being so unkind as to say so. The fact that my mother's sister actually was mentally disabled cannot be overlooked. She had grown up with her sister, yet she threw that word at me in anger. Did she really think it? I still don't know.

One day, the teacher was displeased with the scores of a recent math test. Giving the papers back, she told the class they would review the mistakes and retake the test. A student asked, what about those who didn't make any mistakes? The teacher answered that only one student had earned a perfect score. Who was it, they wanted to know? The teacher told them, and the entire class reacted in waves of shock. I will never forget the way my name sounded, uttered in gasps from each classmate in unison.

I think this is what led to my becoming the female Arnold Horshack in any class from that day on. "OOH! OOH! Call on me, I know!" Sometimes I simply blurted out the answers before anyone else had a chance. Naturally this is where the "know-it-all" and the "thinks she's smarter than everyone else" comes in. I realize now how annoying that was to the others, but it escaped me then. All I saw was the need to prove I was actually smart. Of course, any time I got the answer wrong, classmates wasted no time reminding me that I was stupid after all, and that fueled the cycle. I would only double my efforts next time to make sure I got it right. I honestly believed that, unless I constantly demonstrated otherwise, people would assume I was stupid. And that was the one label I just couldn't take. I can deal with fat, ugly, clumsy, unfashionable, or weird, but not stupid.

This experience taught me the stigma endured by those who truly are intellectually disabled. Those people are simply not allowed to make mistakes. They really do have to be perfect. If they drop the ball one time, either literally or figuratively, those around them will immediately give up on their ability to learn. The meaner ones will laugh and call them names, and the kinder ones will pity them. "That poor girl. She doesn't understand. I'd better do it for her. Here, honey, let me do that." On the other hand when they do something well, their audience is overly lavish with the praise. Why? Because they are surprised that the person with the disability actually *succeeded.* The onlookers might as well be saying, "Hey, everybody, the monkey did a trick! How cute! Isn't that almost human of her?"

It should be no surprise, then, that probably my biggest pet peeve ever is when someone assumes before I even try something that I will fail at it, or doesn't give me a chance to learn from my mistakes. And when my mother praises me to the moon and stars for doing something people my age do every day... like working at a job, or buying and moving into a nice house... well, that's why it makes me uncomfortable, I guess.

Now the part that may trigger. Please be careful.

What prompted me to write this is that I may end up with a bruise, and I don't know how I'm going to explain it to my husband. I was playing a game. I got the answer wrong, and before I even realized I had done it, I full-blown smacked myself, while saying "stupid" out loud.

Can anyone please direct me as to how I should handle this? It's after midnight. Should I call a crisis line, or notify my psychiatrist during business hours?

And what do I tell my husband, who isn't home from work yet?