The Forrest Gump-ing of Emily

When I was about eight years old, my parents had my IQ tested. At the time, I really had no idea what that meant. I went to this woman's house who administered IQ tests, answered a bunch of questions, solved some puzzles, and I think I got cookies. I feel sure the cookies registered more resoundingly with me than anything, but, nonetheless.
When we got home, my mother was very excited over the results and told my father immediately. "152, that's right, that's how high it is." To which he looked a little incredulous and said, "Are you serious?"
I had no idea what they were talking about until they began to talk about moving me up a grade because I was a little more special than the other kids in my class, and I would do better in school if I let the school advance me.
I absolutely refused to do this. After I began to understand what they were talking about, I said no. I was already one of the youngest and smallest in my class, and I knew I might've been a little smarter than some of my friends, but I also knew how to tone it down enough to fit in with other kids.
Thus began a pattern. I'm not bragging about this by any means. But when you're a little kid, and you know things that no one else your age or even three times your age knows, it's not exactly a good thing in terms of fitting in.
Also, I was a little obnoxious once I realized that I was "smart." I would go around taunting my sister, "Well, I have a 152 IQ, do you?" Yes, I was obnoxious at birth, I think.
I did my best to fit in when I was in elementary school and junior high and by high school, I realized that the best way to deal with it was to surround myself with other smart people. If it took me that long to figure it out, you have to wonder about the validity of IQ tests, huh?
And by the time I got to college, I felt completely at home. I loved discussing lofty communication theories, the tenets of feminism and philosophical ideals at their best. I was challenged for the first time and surrounded by people who could carry on intelligent conversations that sometimes exceeded what I knew.
At first, that worried me, but then I realized that it was better that way. The fact that I actually got to learn was awesome, and I relished it.
Now, five years post-college, I am getting DUMB. I'm not challenged in that everyday way that going to class on a regular basis affords, and sometimes I can barely articulate what it is I'm trying to say. I still have tons of intelligent friends who discuss so many things that I am interested in, but my brain seems to be in hovercraft mode sometimes, dangling over the idea, but not quite connecting with the ground.
I want so badly to go back to school, because I know, that personally, I have to constantly exercise my brain as though it were a muscle in training for a marathon in order to feel like that obnoxious eight-year-old who got free cookies for solving puzzles again.