Well, it's official - I have dyspraxia.
For those of you that read this blog regularly, you'll probably be thinking "huh?", since I've already written about how I first learnt about dyspraxia at the age of 15 when a teacher at school told me (assuming I already knew) that he thought I had the condition.
As a result, I've spent the last 15 years hearing that word, but not really understanding how that word / description / label actually affected me. Since I've opened up to learning about the subject - and meeting fellow dyspraxics - I have learnt so much about the condition and what it means to me.
My assessment day was a couple of weeks ago and I came away buzzing from the experience. (You can find my blog about the day here - http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2011/11/dyspraxia-assessment-day.html). It was an intense - but incredibly worthwhile - day, especially because the final draft of the report landed in my postbox the other day. It was a strange mixture of emotions to hold the report in my hand, knowing that - for the first time in my life - someone had formally recognised my condition.
I won't bore you with the entire report (it's over 20 pages long and a lot of it is personal to me in any case), but the paragraph that is the important bit is as follows: "Matthew has Development Coordination Disorder (Dypsraxia), which affects his balance, tactile discrimination, fine and gross motor skills and social interaction, as well as his sensory systems." Such an innocuous sentence, but one which boils down (extremely succinctly) the areas of my life that dyspraxia affects - and formalises my condition.
I started this blog in August 2010 (although it doesn't seem that long ago), and wrote my first article about dyspraxia on October of the same year - it had taken me two months to work up the courage to "come out" as dyspraxic to the blogosphere, and that can be an anonymous enough place if a writer chooses (although my cover of Smithy has been pretty much blown out of the water with the publication of my first book, Fall From Grace!).
Looking at it objectively, I'm not bothered about keeping my dyspraxia secret any more; it's a part of me and something to be accepted - unlike when I was a teenager and in my early twenties and embarrassed about the condition ... with a chip on both shoulders about it. Having an employer (in my late teens) who grossly over-reacted when I confided in them certainly didn't help my confidence - but my perspective has, thankfully, changed and relaxed in the last couple of years. I've learnt to accept that my dyspraxia is just part of me - and it's help make me the man I am today, which has helped to make me finally feel comfortable in my own skin.
Since I've accepted that this is who I am, and started acknowledging and facing the anxieties and physical issues I've got as part of the condition, my life has expanded and changed beyond measure - in a good way. 2011 has been an incredible year: I've changed jobs, turned 30 (okay, nothing I can do about that, to be fair - except "do a Joan Collins" and lie) and travelled more than I could have ever imagined a year ago. I've also had the good fortune to meet and make friends with fellow dyspraxics for the first time - and so many conversations where one or both of us say; "Wow, you do that as well? I thought it was just me!" Having dyspraxic friends really helps me feel I'm not alone in experiencing the effects of dyspraxia!
All this - my blog, my friends (dyspraxic and non-dyspraxic alike) and family, my new experiences over the past year - have helped me to accept my condition and, whilst understanding that it's a part of me, that it doesn't control me. I control it.
The report also has a number of appendices, talking about possible ways to tackle areas of your life that are affected by dyspraxia, and I'm carefully studying those. Why? Because getting that dyspraxia assessment isn't the end of my journey, not by a long shot. When I started this blog, it was partly to help me chronicle my acceptance of dyspraxia and to get an assessment, which I thought would bring my exploration to a close - well, you won't hear me say this often, but I was wrong. As I've developed and grown as a person, I've learnt that the assessment is just the beginning - I've got a lot of things to learn and develop, and the report will help me codify what to do first.
Personally, I can't wait!
Showing posts with label DCD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DCD. Show all posts
Friday, 9 December 2011
Friday, 18 November 2011
Dyspraxia & Sign Language
There's two things I'm really interested in (outside of writing) - autism / dyspraxia studies and Deaf awareness / sign language. I have the former (dyspraxia) and am studying the latter (just started Level 2 British Sign Language).
Before I started BSL, I never considered how it could link up with my dyspraxia - I've discussed that before (http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2010/11/dyspraxia-emotions-sign-language.html) - but I'm conscious more than ever how they can impact each other, and improve my awareness of both my condition and my communication with others, both Deaf and hearing.
My short-term memory is atrocious - genuinely, it is terrible, so I have to work hard and for longer to retain information. I'm also a very visual people, so I don't always rely on reams of notes to get me through a situation, but rehearsing and practicing over and over again, even in the confines of my own head, help me learn. I think I worry people sometimes, because they notice my lack of note-taking, but I much prefer visualising my learning; it makes it easier, and BSL is perfect for that - it's ALL visual! I don't make many notes in class, as I much prefer to practice in an almost rote-like fashion, and this makes my learning far more effective.
There's another HUGE concept in BSL - that of multi-channel, where a concept or a phrase is communicated through hands, facial expression and body. All of sign is, of course, communicated like this, but multi-channel signs are whole concepts rather than individual signs; for example, "I've not seen you in ages" is a multi-channel sign. It uses the face and body as well as hands to communicate that entire phrase - and you need all those things to communicate it effectively.
That makes it interesting for someone who isn't overly facially expressive for a majority of the time; when I am, it's usually because I'm in a comfortable setting, with people I know, and I'm confident with my emotions. For the rest of the time, if I'm unsure of how to project an emotion (sometimes!) or I have anxiety (sometimes) or not thinking about making an actual effort to project an emotion to make other people feel comfortable, or I just don't understand an emotion, then I will appear quite ... ahem ... serious.
Visual and expressive emotion is a fun thing to study in BSL when you're like that, and it can increase my anxiety when I have to be overly expressive - although I can't entirely put my finger on why. That's a debate for another time, but learning BSL at level two is a lot harder than level one (in a good way), and so I have to be a lot more focused on the language and how non-manual features such as facial expressions are vital in communication.
This is a "hearing" issue as well as a "dyspraxia" issue, I suspect; hearing people can use intonation as well, and don't need rely on facial expression to get across an emotion. So this is an awareness-raising discussion as well; for others as well as for me. I've always believed that hearing people need to have more deaf awareness, and have a more emotive face is certainly part of that - and clearly something that I will continue to learn!
Before I started BSL, I never considered how it could link up with my dyspraxia - I've discussed that before (http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2010/11/dyspraxia-emotions-sign-language.html) - but I'm conscious more than ever how they can impact each other, and improve my awareness of both my condition and my communication with others, both Deaf and hearing.
My short-term memory is atrocious - genuinely, it is terrible, so I have to work hard and for longer to retain information. I'm also a very visual people, so I don't always rely on reams of notes to get me through a situation, but rehearsing and practicing over and over again, even in the confines of my own head, help me learn. I think I worry people sometimes, because they notice my lack of note-taking, but I much prefer visualising my learning; it makes it easier, and BSL is perfect for that - it's ALL visual! I don't make many notes in class, as I much prefer to practice in an almost rote-like fashion, and this makes my learning far more effective.
There's another HUGE concept in BSL - that of multi-channel, where a concept or a phrase is communicated through hands, facial expression and body. All of sign is, of course, communicated like this, but multi-channel signs are whole concepts rather than individual signs; for example, "I've not seen you in ages" is a multi-channel sign. It uses the face and body as well as hands to communicate that entire phrase - and you need all those things to communicate it effectively.
That makes it interesting for someone who isn't overly facially expressive for a majority of the time; when I am, it's usually because I'm in a comfortable setting, with people I know, and I'm confident with my emotions. For the rest of the time, if I'm unsure of how to project an emotion (sometimes!) or I have anxiety (sometimes) or not thinking about making an actual effort to project an emotion to make other people feel comfortable, or I just don't understand an emotion, then I will appear quite ... ahem ... serious.
Visual and expressive emotion is a fun thing to study in BSL when you're like that, and it can increase my anxiety when I have to be overly expressive - although I can't entirely put my finger on why. That's a debate for another time, but learning BSL at level two is a lot harder than level one (in a good way), and so I have to be a lot more focused on the language and how non-manual features such as facial expressions are vital in communication.
This is a "hearing" issue as well as a "dyspraxia" issue, I suspect; hearing people can use intonation as well, and don't need rely on facial expression to get across an emotion. So this is an awareness-raising discussion as well; for others as well as for me. I've always believed that hearing people need to have more deaf awareness, and have a more emotive face is certainly part of that - and clearly something that I will continue to learn!
Monday, 29 August 2011
Dyspraxia, Movement & Navigation
I write about my dyspraxia on a semi-regular basis and I've had some really positive feedback, both from people with the condition as well as friends and family of those who have it, so I just wanted to say "thank you" before I started - I really do appreciate all the responses I get.
Onwards and upwards! Today I wanted to write about the physical side of dyspraxia, which is a huge part of the condition. Every sufferer is different, of course; I know of some dyspraxics who have learnt how to catch a ball, for example, or read a map or have decent hand-eye coordination, none of which I have. It's a good job I don't intend to be a tennis player or Bear Grylls, in that case - I've always preferred a more sedentary life!
I have zero navigational skills, as evidenced recently by a recent spate of visits I've made to different towns for work purposes and got lost far too easily, but there are things that help me with that - phone-bases sat nav and good friends and colleagues who are very patient with me, even if they don't always understand my pathological inability to get from A to B without paying a brief visit to Z (which, 9 times out of 10, is perfectly pleasant as a sight-seeing diversion).
In years gone by, I would have "solved" this problem by not going anywhere; now, I do it anyway. There's a small amount of panic involved, because I'm fighting against my natural instincts (which are to hide under the duvet instead), but you won't get very far if you don't fight those instincts from time to time.
I'm written before about my lack of physical coordination in certain situations; ball-catching and anything where judging distance is required ... well, in those circumstances, I'll usually volunteer to make the half-time drinks instead, as long as someone else can carry the tray. My feet often have their own ideas about where they want to to go, and not always in conjunction with each other or my brain, and so it can occasionally appear as if I am the worse for wear ... honestly, mum, I don't know what that's like (and especially since I don't drink anymore). It's actually quite liberating, because I've realised that I don't care what other people think - and I suspect people sometimes think I am the worse the wear. If they do - sod 'em. It's the way I am. I'm used to it!
For me, the other main physical effect of dyspraxia is joint pain; I've always had sporadic aches and pains in my joints (lower back, knees, hips and thighs especially) and I don't really think much about it now, although it's one of the more ... annoying features of my condition. The aches can come and go, but they do often come at times when I really, really wish they'd just bugger off; when I'm planning to go for a walk, for example, or half-way through a working day. It's strange; I can sometimes walk a few miles and feel absolutely fine (I love walking, it helps me plan my story ideas in my head), but I'll walk down the stairs to my front door the next day and my knees will scream at me.
Part of this is undoubtedly genetic - I can think of a few examples in my own family where they've got bad knees or back, etc - but I know my dyspraxia plays a part, and I have to accept that. Although I'm aware that I have limitations (doesn't everyone?), I won't allow my dyspraxia dictate to me what I can't do all the time; if I want to do something, like walking five miles on a Saturday afternoon, then I'll damn well do it - and train my body to cope with it.
Since I've been writing this blog, I've said how I want to document my journey of understanding my dyspraxia, and this is certainly part of it. I get annoyed if I'm ever treated differently because of it - and thankfully, it barely happens - but I'm often hardest on myself. I want to prove - to myself, to others, who knows - that I can do things. I don't care about my aches and pains (it doesn't stop me walking), I don't care about my inability to catch a ball (seriously, I sit behind a desk all day, when am I ever going to need to catch a ball?) and I'm learning how to navigate new areas with confidence (not being afraid to ask for directions is something blokes have issues with, but I'm overcoming it).
If you have dyspraxia, and reading this, then you'll have undoubtedly have experienced a combination of these issues yourself. I won't lie to you: they won't go away, but I'll let you into a secret. Mental attitude is as much a part of it as the condition itself; if you sit down and think, "Oh, well, I'm dyspraxic, I simply can't do that", then you won't. You'll never know how far you can push yourself. I thought that way for a long time, but then I started pushing myself - I started feeling the fear and doing it anyway - and I discovered a lot more about myself by doing that.
There's a quote I rather like, and this blog post is partly an excuse to share it with you; "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt said that - and I'll leave you now with that thought!
Onwards and upwards! Today I wanted to write about the physical side of dyspraxia, which is a huge part of the condition. Every sufferer is different, of course; I know of some dyspraxics who have learnt how to catch a ball, for example, or read a map or have decent hand-eye coordination, none of which I have. It's a good job I don't intend to be a tennis player or Bear Grylls, in that case - I've always preferred a more sedentary life!
I have zero navigational skills, as evidenced recently by a recent spate of visits I've made to different towns for work purposes and got lost far too easily, but there are things that help me with that - phone-bases sat nav and good friends and colleagues who are very patient with me, even if they don't always understand my pathological inability to get from A to B without paying a brief visit to Z (which, 9 times out of 10, is perfectly pleasant as a sight-seeing diversion).
In years gone by, I would have "solved" this problem by not going anywhere; now, I do it anyway. There's a small amount of panic involved, because I'm fighting against my natural instincts (which are to hide under the duvet instead), but you won't get very far if you don't fight those instincts from time to time.
I'm written before about my lack of physical coordination in certain situations; ball-catching and anything where judging distance is required ... well, in those circumstances, I'll usually volunteer to make the half-time drinks instead, as long as someone else can carry the tray. My feet often have their own ideas about where they want to to go, and not always in conjunction with each other or my brain, and so it can occasionally appear as if I am the worse for wear ... honestly, mum, I don't know what that's like (and especially since I don't drink anymore). It's actually quite liberating, because I've realised that I don't care what other people think - and I suspect people sometimes think I am the worse the wear. If they do - sod 'em. It's the way I am. I'm used to it!
For me, the other main physical effect of dyspraxia is joint pain; I've always had sporadic aches and pains in my joints (lower back, knees, hips and thighs especially) and I don't really think much about it now, although it's one of the more ... annoying features of my condition. The aches can come and go, but they do often come at times when I really, really wish they'd just bugger off; when I'm planning to go for a walk, for example, or half-way through a working day. It's strange; I can sometimes walk a few miles and feel absolutely fine (I love walking, it helps me plan my story ideas in my head), but I'll walk down the stairs to my front door the next day and my knees will scream at me.
Part of this is undoubtedly genetic - I can think of a few examples in my own family where they've got bad knees or back, etc - but I know my dyspraxia plays a part, and I have to accept that. Although I'm aware that I have limitations (doesn't everyone?), I won't allow my dyspraxia dictate to me what I can't do all the time; if I want to do something, like walking five miles on a Saturday afternoon, then I'll damn well do it - and train my body to cope with it.
Since I've been writing this blog, I've said how I want to document my journey of understanding my dyspraxia, and this is certainly part of it. I get annoyed if I'm ever treated differently because of it - and thankfully, it barely happens - but I'm often hardest on myself. I want to prove - to myself, to others, who knows - that I can do things. I don't care about my aches and pains (it doesn't stop me walking), I don't care about my inability to catch a ball (seriously, I sit behind a desk all day, when am I ever going to need to catch a ball?) and I'm learning how to navigate new areas with confidence (not being afraid to ask for directions is something blokes have issues with, but I'm overcoming it).
If you have dyspraxia, and reading this, then you'll have undoubtedly have experienced a combination of these issues yourself. I won't lie to you: they won't go away, but I'll let you into a secret. Mental attitude is as much a part of it as the condition itself; if you sit down and think, "Oh, well, I'm dyspraxic, I simply can't do that", then you won't. You'll never know how far you can push yourself. I thought that way for a long time, but then I started pushing myself - I started feeling the fear and doing it anyway - and I discovered a lot more about myself by doing that.
There's a quote I rather like, and this blog post is partly an excuse to share it with you; "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt said that - and I'll leave you now with that thought!
Friday, 24 June 2011
Dyspraxia & Work
It can be strange, sometimes, how your dyspraxia often affects you in ways you don't always expect - and, no matter how many years you have to acclimatise to the condition, it will never cease to surprise you.
For me, the latest occasion was this week, when I found out that I'd got a new job. It's a job I've been hoping to get for some time, and so to get the phone call telling me I'd got it was such an awesome feeling; anyone who's got a job they really want will know what I mean.
Anyway, for the next couple of hours, I was as much use as a chocolate teapot; I dropped paperwork, knocked over books, forgot my password half a dozen times ... well, the list goes on. And on. And, quite possibly, on.
I'm 30 now (D-Day - or B-Day - was last week, when I finally went kicking and screaming out of my 20's) and that's precisely how long I've had my dyspraxia. I've become a lot more adjusted to life with the condition, but when I have days like that - when my brain and body resolutely refuse to talk to each other - I've learnt to just go with the flow.
For most of my life, I would have been bothered by that; having a day when my body doesn't seem to work. Now, however, I'm more inclined to laugh it off and just accept it. Why? Because I accept it as just being part of me; I can't change it - and don't want to change it, because it inspires me to be accepting and patient with others far more because I know what it's like to have an "invisible" condition.
When I have a day where my dypraxia really comes to the fore, I just shrug my shoulders and get on with it; the next day, I was lugging a leaflet stand around and not letting anything get in my way. I'm fortunate to have got my new job, and I've proved to any residual demons residing in my own head that I can do a lot of things; I sometimes just have to think of different ways of approaching things. Dyspraxic people are creative and intelligent (at least that's what I tell myself!), so don't be afraid to put yourself out there and try things. If I can do it, I know you can.
For me, the latest occasion was this week, when I found out that I'd got a new job. It's a job I've been hoping to get for some time, and so to get the phone call telling me I'd got it was such an awesome feeling; anyone who's got a job they really want will know what I mean.
Anyway, for the next couple of hours, I was as much use as a chocolate teapot; I dropped paperwork, knocked over books, forgot my password half a dozen times ... well, the list goes on. And on. And, quite possibly, on.
I'm 30 now (D-Day - or B-Day - was last week, when I finally went kicking and screaming out of my 20's) and that's precisely how long I've had my dyspraxia. I've become a lot more adjusted to life with the condition, but when I have days like that - when my brain and body resolutely refuse to talk to each other - I've learnt to just go with the flow.
For most of my life, I would have been bothered by that; having a day when my body doesn't seem to work. Now, however, I'm more inclined to laugh it off and just accept it. Why? Because I accept it as just being part of me; I can't change it - and don't want to change it, because it inspires me to be accepting and patient with others far more because I know what it's like to have an "invisible" condition.
When I have a day where my dypraxia really comes to the fore, I just shrug my shoulders and get on with it; the next day, I was lugging a leaflet stand around and not letting anything get in my way. I'm fortunate to have got my new job, and I've proved to any residual demons residing in my own head that I can do a lot of things; I sometimes just have to think of different ways of approaching things. Dyspraxic people are creative and intelligent (at least that's what I tell myself!), so don't be afraid to put yourself out there and try things. If I can do it, I know you can.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Dyspraxia & BSL
I've written before about my cross-over experiences between British Sign Language (BSL) and dyspraxia (find it here - http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2010/11/dyspraxia-emotions-sign-language.html - if you want to take a look), and I wanted to follow that up today.
I previously discussed how BSL is a totally visual language, and how it relies a lot on having an understanding of facial expressions and body language: two things that DCD and autistic spectrum disorder sufferers can really struggle with. I know I did, and although I've got better at reading people, I'm still not brilliant at it.
However, today I want to talk about the physical side of signing, and how my dyspraxia impacts on that. As anyone with the condition will know, dyspraxia strongly impacts your fine and gross motor skills; everything from grip to balance, from hand-eye coordination to handwriting and from gait to speech. BSL, on the other hand, relies on ... well, a lot of those things for communication.
All sign languages are different in content; BSL and ASL (American Sign) are different enough to be different languages, despite the hearing people of both countries sharing a common language (well, for the most part - jello isn't a real word, surely??). However, all sign languages are gestural; signs replace speech in communicating thoughts, and as a dyspraxic person, I've sometimes struggled to accurately convey my thoughts because of my lack of coordination.
For me, finger-spelling and numbers are the worst. Unlike ASL, BSL users use both hands for the alphabet, and certain letters (L, M and N, for example) always cause me trouble; thankfully, none of them appear in my name (Smithy, of course), but still - frustrating when I'm trying to spell something out.
When I was younger, I had trouble with my speech - I simply couldn't pronounce certain words and letters - and so had to have intensive speech therapy to correct the problem. Whether that issue was down to verbal dyspraxia or not, I don't know, but it was still incredibly frustrating - and hard work to correct, although I'm so grateful to my speech therapist for teaching me how to almost completely remove the problem (I have a minor lisp and stutter, but barely noticeable).
After I started learning BSL, I came up against my dyspraxia as I tried to coordinate my arms in creating the signs . For a while, it almost felt as if I had a "sign stutter", as my arms would occasionally not work in time with my head, and I had to repeat the sign in order to make sure it was clear.
In all honesty, BSL has been a huge help to my arm coordination. When I realised the problem, I began tackling it almost in the same way as my speech therapist had done with my verbal issues, although I didn't realise I was doing it. I practised the same signs over and over again, making them smoother and faster; this, of course, had the added benefit of improving my sign retention as well as making it look a lot more "natural" - that is, as if I didn't have dyspraxia!
I do still struggle with it; wherever possible, I try and rehearse what I'm going to sign in my head before I do it, just so I can try and make sure my arm movements are as fluid as possible. It doesn't always work, though, and my "sign stutter" does still come back! With practice, though, I suspect that will reduce, as did my verbal speech problems.
It's ironic; I never suspected that BSL would help me quite so much. I'd started learning the language because I was fascinated by its beauty and how it would open up communication with a group of people in society who I'd never felt able to get close to before. Now, however, nearly a year on, I've learnt so much more about myself as well; how my dyspraxia works ... and how, in certain contexts, I can learn to control and overcome it to be a more effective signer.
I certainly never thought BSL and dyspraxia would have those sorts of links. Shows how wrong I could be - and how learning new things can often increase your confidence in the most unexpected of ways. Never be frightened of trying something new - you never know where it might take you!
I previously discussed how BSL is a totally visual language, and how it relies a lot on having an understanding of facial expressions and body language: two things that DCD and autistic spectrum disorder sufferers can really struggle with. I know I did, and although I've got better at reading people, I'm still not brilliant at it.
However, today I want to talk about the physical side of signing, and how my dyspraxia impacts on that. As anyone with the condition will know, dyspraxia strongly impacts your fine and gross motor skills; everything from grip to balance, from hand-eye coordination to handwriting and from gait to speech. BSL, on the other hand, relies on ... well, a lot of those things for communication.
All sign languages are different in content; BSL and ASL (American Sign) are different enough to be different languages, despite the hearing people of both countries sharing a common language (well, for the most part - jello isn't a real word, surely??). However, all sign languages are gestural; signs replace speech in communicating thoughts, and as a dyspraxic person, I've sometimes struggled to accurately convey my thoughts because of my lack of coordination.
For me, finger-spelling and numbers are the worst. Unlike ASL, BSL users use both hands for the alphabet, and certain letters (L, M and N, for example) always cause me trouble; thankfully, none of them appear in my name (Smithy, of course), but still - frustrating when I'm trying to spell something out.
When I was younger, I had trouble with my speech - I simply couldn't pronounce certain words and letters - and so had to have intensive speech therapy to correct the problem. Whether that issue was down to verbal dyspraxia or not, I don't know, but it was still incredibly frustrating - and hard work to correct, although I'm so grateful to my speech therapist for teaching me how to almost completely remove the problem (I have a minor lisp and stutter, but barely noticeable).
After I started learning BSL, I came up against my dyspraxia as I tried to coordinate my arms in creating the signs . For a while, it almost felt as if I had a "sign stutter", as my arms would occasionally not work in time with my head, and I had to repeat the sign in order to make sure it was clear.
In all honesty, BSL has been a huge help to my arm coordination. When I realised the problem, I began tackling it almost in the same way as my speech therapist had done with my verbal issues, although I didn't realise I was doing it. I practised the same signs over and over again, making them smoother and faster; this, of course, had the added benefit of improving my sign retention as well as making it look a lot more "natural" - that is, as if I didn't have dyspraxia!
I do still struggle with it; wherever possible, I try and rehearse what I'm going to sign in my head before I do it, just so I can try and make sure my arm movements are as fluid as possible. It doesn't always work, though, and my "sign stutter" does still come back! With practice, though, I suspect that will reduce, as did my verbal speech problems.
It's ironic; I never suspected that BSL would help me quite so much. I'd started learning the language because I was fascinated by its beauty and how it would open up communication with a group of people in society who I'd never felt able to get close to before. Now, however, nearly a year on, I've learnt so much more about myself as well; how my dyspraxia works ... and how, in certain contexts, I can learn to control and overcome it to be a more effective signer.
I certainly never thought BSL and dyspraxia would have those sorts of links. Shows how wrong I could be - and how learning new things can often increase your confidence in the most unexpected of ways. Never be frightened of trying something new - you never know where it might take you!
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