Well, today's the day: Day One of Psychological Testing. I've been so looking forward to it for the past two weeks.

I don't expect to do well, not after the young woman in the testing room says, "Today, we're going to test your working memory and processing speed."

So... my two worst flaws—okay. This should be fun. Nonetheless, the first test is actually easier than I expected.

The woman shows me a flip pad with fifty pictures. I need to tell her which picture I saw by choosing A or B at the end. I forget at least ten in the first round, but when we do it again with the pictures in a different order, I get them all—yay! Maybe nothing is seriously wrong with me after all. I doubt it; it's only the first test, and I've always been more of a visual learner. I can usually pick up on visual things in one or two tries.

I brought bubble gum and something to fidget with, since sitting this long is difficult for me. Mom said that bubble gum helped her kids during the standardized testing.

I'm confident, but that confidence shatters with the other tests: I can't do any of them (and this poor woman has to put up with me). I'm fine with one or two problems, but not after that. My brain can't keep up, especially with the memory tests, when there are too many things on one page. This is especially prevalent with this test.

The woman makes me draw a relatively complicated picture. She then takes it away and hands me a new piece of paper. "Now draw the figure from memory."

All I can do is draw the basic outline, not the inner designs—both times she asks me.

The dreaded block puzzle test is back, too. I remember it from ten years ago.

The woman hands me four red-and-white blocks and pushes a booklet of geometric shapes toward me. "For this test, I want you to recreate each design as fast as you can with the blocks."

I only get the basic ones; I can't figure out how to recreate the more complex designs, even though they're still pretty straightforward. I guess this is why I suck at Rubik Cubes. I know this is part of my Nonverbal Learning Disorder, though: trouble with visual-spatial reasoning and not having very powerful hands.

The other test I struggle with is when the woman gives me a page of small shapes and numbers, and I need to find two and seven in each row. To Hell with that. I miss four sevens in the first row, and she points this out. "Remember, both sevens and twos."

This is like me trying to do a Word Search or a puzzle; no matter how hard I try, I can't find the answer quickly. I also see for the first time that I stutter when I try to read the numbers aloud. I notice this especially when the woman gives me a page full of the words Red, Blue, and Green to read. There are too many letters, and my brain can't process them. Weird, because I can read silently just fine. Now I wonder if stuttering was another reason why I did speech therapy in elementary school.

All in all, I can't finish any of the timed tests; I can only do one-third of each. Timed assignments have always given me trouble, though. I'm sorry, lady. I'm sorry I'm such a sorry excuse for you.

The guilt attacks me like a rabid dog. Why can't I do anything? Why do I struggle so much? I'm a grown-ass woman, but I have the skills of an elementary schooler, even though I'm trying my best. I shouldn't have waited so long to ask for help.

One of the last tests tests my mental math and auditory processing skills.

The woman reaches down, picks up a black CD player (people still use those?), and sets it on the table. "This test has four parts," she explains, resting her finger on the player's button. "The voice on the CD player will give you numbers from one to nine. Your job is to add the first two numbers and then the second number and the first one in the next set."

Okay, that doesn't sound too bad. I've got thi—no, I don't. I only get the first two numbers in each set. The voice isn't even speaking fast, and I can't keep up. It leads to long pauses where I don't say anything, and then I have to guess because I have to try. Please, let this be over soon; this is torture. It's definitely the hardest test, even though it's so simple. Dyscalculia much? Dyslexia? It's both.

What a suckish day. I'm getting ready to leave and am thinking about my last appointment next Monday... finally. Nope, spoke too soon.

"The doctor wants to do an additional testing session with you on Tuesday," the receptionist elucidates, kindness in her eyes. "For the WIAT."

That's the Wechsler Individual Achievement Test. Well, that tells me one thing: I failed today, but I expected that. I'm a hot mess, and I might as well be for the rest of my life.