Okay, quick recap; I'm not good with travelling. People who read this blog will know this about me by now - and for a long time, it's held me back. I've rarely travelled far, especially by myself, and my anxieties (I believe rooted in my dyspraxia) have often held me back.
Right, that's us all up to date. I should say, I've started really taking a long hard look at my anxieties at that aspect of my life, because I want to start "feeling the fear and doing it anyway" - my new motto in life! I have to be patient with myself - I need to conquer my anxieties slowly and steadily, else I'll just go back to the start again - but I've made a couple of trips to London (would have been three, but I was ill on the third) and started to tackle my worries head on.
Part of my slowly-increasing confidence is down to my current job, which I started back in July and involves some travel around the eastern "half" of the county. I have two main locations I visit when not at my "home" location - one is 30 minutes on the train and one is 45 minutes away. The first few times, I got hideously lost and a bit stressed as a result; as I've learnt the route (and even some short-cuts), I've actually found myself giving directions to other people ... crazy.
Anyhow - I recently found that I had a free afternoon and decided to be impulsive for a change. For anyone who knows me, you'll know that's not really in my nature - I always try and plan to the nth degree, which I am pretty positive must drive people insane sometimes, but I like to be prepared for all eventualities as being in control of a situation usually helps me control my worries.
However, I decided to test myself - and so, being only an hour from London at lunchtime, I decided to jump on a train and see where the afternoon took me. Oh yes, the other thing I should mention - I loathe the underground. I. Hate. It. I've never used it by myself - and even when I'm with other people, it makes me distinctly ... ahem, uncomfortable. It's been a personal mission of mine for a while to use the underground by myself and, when I arrived at Victoria, I could feel my legs carrying me outside the station away from the tube station.
It was at this point I got cross with myself and just bloody did it. I went on the underground by myself - and think I've begun to conquer a personal demon in the process. I should say, I didn't go far - I went two stops along the South Kensington, then four stops back along to Westminster, but it felt - and still feels like a real accomplishment. To many people, it may not seem like much, but for me, it's a big stepping stone - it means I've got no excuse to not try it again, and perhaps not feeling like I'm going to have a heart attack the next time!
My brief visit to South Kensington allowed me a quick trip around the Victoria & Albert art museum - somewhere I've never been before. I'm determined to go again in the new year and have a proper look round - although, given its size and layout, I have no doubt I will get lost going round! Still, that doesn't matter ... as long as I can find the cafe, I'll be happy.
I then travelled to Westminster - just because I felt like it and wanted to prove that my tube travelling wasn't just a one-off - and had a mooch around. One thing about London that I'm starting to notice - places really aren't as far apart as you actually think. Parliament, Whitehall, Buckingham Palace, the Cenotaph, Trafalgar Square ... they're all incredibly close to one another. I even walked past Downing Street and saw armed police again (I'd seen similar back in the Summer when I visited Parliament) on the gates - being from the "provinces", I can't quite get used to that.
By this point, I'd been on my mini-tour for about three hours ... and my legs were aching something chronic, so I did the only logical thing and decided to WALK back to Victoria train station, thirty minutes away. Obviously.
Although I got lost a couple of times when I got my bearings confused, I was able to contain and understand the source of my anxieties a lot better - and so deal with them. I feel exhausted now - mentally as well as physically - as I always do after being in unfamiliar territory; I have to concentrate on where I'm walking to make sure I don't physically walk into things. Happens more often than you'd think!
So ... a productive afternoon. I've proved to myself that I can move beyond my previously implacable "issues", albeit it at my own (often stubborn) pace. I write about my experiences of travelling because I wonder how many others experience similar things - and, if there are, hope that we can always learn from each other!
Oh yeah - here are a few photos from my exploration ...
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Showing posts with label Disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Disability. Show all posts
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Friday, 11 November 2011
Dyspraxia: Assessment Day
Assessing people for dyspraxia and other DCD and autistic-spectrum disorders is a very specialised art - OT's and psychologists need specialised training in order to do the assessment effectively. Occupational Therapists (OT's) need effective training - and I was more than pleased to take part in this training, especially as it meant I could get an assessment out of it as well.
I've taken part in a research study at Oxford Brookes University (http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2011/06/test-subject.html) back in May 2011. I was glad to take part in it, but I had to be clear when I did that I had no formal diagnosis - merely an observed set of issues that my teachers thought added up to dyspraxia.
However, this was a perfect opportunity to change that - Frances Beaumont, co-founder of the Kent Dyspraxia Association and a qualified and experienced OT herself had arranged a training day for OT's to be able to diagnose the condition, but of course needed volunteers for the OT's to assess.
I wasn't likely to turn that opportunity down!
I genuinely didn't know what to expect from the assessment; I know people who have been assessed - indeed, a very good friend of mine is dyspraxia and had a full assessment some time ago - but I deliberately avoided asking too many questions, because I didn't want to influence my own thoughts and responses when I was assessed.
The assessment day was in Faversham, only a 40 minute train journey from where I live - and I was picked up from (and returned to) the station ... which I am grateful for. Not knowing Faversham AT ALL, it would have been a dead cert that I would have got lost. As it was, I felt a certain amount of anxiety about going to an unfamiliar place and with no advanced plan of action - it's an unsettling sensation for someone who likes to be in control of his day, but also good ... as it helped to explain to the OT what it felt like.
There were six OT's to six volunteers, and I was "paired" with a Welsh-born, Birmingham resident called Laura, who had been an OT for some years and was looking to expand her knowledge. You always worry about getting on, but thankfully, that wasn't the case here - Laura and I got on famously.
Frances led some interesting discussions in the morning, geared towards to OT's, but was fascinating to listen to, and then we began individual assessments in our pairs. I mentioned previously that I had to complete and two questionnaires; one being a Sensory Profile, about my reaction to different situations and circumstances, and the second being a more open questionnaire about my past, my life in general, etc. We spent a good couple of hours in discussion around these questionnaires, and it was fascinating to work through the forms and see how my Sensory Profile really does fit into a model of dyspraxia.
The session was broken by lunch, and it was fascinating to mingle with the OT's ... and the other dspraxics. We had some brilliantly fascinating - and funny - conversations over lunch, and it was great to know that I wasn't the only one worried about missing my mouth whilst eating.
After lunch - and more discussion - I did some manual tasks; walking on the balls and heels of my feet, finger dexterity and perception tests, and the old favourite ... balance tests. Oh how I love them! It was interesting to get feedback from Laura; clearly, I have terrible balance, but she noted how my body tried to compensate - by putting a hand into a pocket, for example. It seems my subconscious is already trying to help out a bit ... reassuring!
It was a long day of discussion and testing - I got home about 5.30, but it felt later, and I felt exhausted. It was incredibly worth it, though; it gave me a deeper understanding of dyspraxia, intellectually, physically and emotionally. Having to concentrate on physical actions to a great depth than neurotypical people can be exhausting, and it certainly was that during the testing, because it was very focused - but don't think I'm complaining, because it was worthwhile for the end result.
The OT's had a second day of training today, then are going off to write the report, so I should get the first draft within the next couple of weeks - and then we shall know the outcome. I'm very much treating it as a new chapter in my life, because I can choose what I want to do with the report - and if there are any changes I want to take on as a result.
Whatever else, this year has been an incredibly interesting one - and this report will cap it very nicely!
I've taken part in a research study at Oxford Brookes University (http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2011/06/test-subject.html) back in May 2011. I was glad to take part in it, but I had to be clear when I did that I had no formal diagnosis - merely an observed set of issues that my teachers thought added up to dyspraxia.
However, this was a perfect opportunity to change that - Frances Beaumont, co-founder of the Kent Dyspraxia Association and a qualified and experienced OT herself had arranged a training day for OT's to be able to diagnose the condition, but of course needed volunteers for the OT's to assess.
I wasn't likely to turn that opportunity down!
I genuinely didn't know what to expect from the assessment; I know people who have been assessed - indeed, a very good friend of mine is dyspraxia and had a full assessment some time ago - but I deliberately avoided asking too many questions, because I didn't want to influence my own thoughts and responses when I was assessed.
The assessment day was in Faversham, only a 40 minute train journey from where I live - and I was picked up from (and returned to) the station ... which I am grateful for. Not knowing Faversham AT ALL, it would have been a dead cert that I would have got lost. As it was, I felt a certain amount of anxiety about going to an unfamiliar place and with no advanced plan of action - it's an unsettling sensation for someone who likes to be in control of his day, but also good ... as it helped to explain to the OT what it felt like.
There were six OT's to six volunteers, and I was "paired" with a Welsh-born, Birmingham resident called Laura, who had been an OT for some years and was looking to expand her knowledge. You always worry about getting on, but thankfully, that wasn't the case here - Laura and I got on famously.
Frances led some interesting discussions in the morning, geared towards to OT's, but was fascinating to listen to, and then we began individual assessments in our pairs. I mentioned previously that I had to complete and two questionnaires; one being a Sensory Profile, about my reaction to different situations and circumstances, and the second being a more open questionnaire about my past, my life in general, etc. We spent a good couple of hours in discussion around these questionnaires, and it was fascinating to work through the forms and see how my Sensory Profile really does fit into a model of dyspraxia.
The session was broken by lunch, and it was fascinating to mingle with the OT's ... and the other dspraxics. We had some brilliantly fascinating - and funny - conversations over lunch, and it was great to know that I wasn't the only one worried about missing my mouth whilst eating.
After lunch - and more discussion - I did some manual tasks; walking on the balls and heels of my feet, finger dexterity and perception tests, and the old favourite ... balance tests. Oh how I love them! It was interesting to get feedback from Laura; clearly, I have terrible balance, but she noted how my body tried to compensate - by putting a hand into a pocket, for example. It seems my subconscious is already trying to help out a bit ... reassuring!
It was a long day of discussion and testing - I got home about 5.30, but it felt later, and I felt exhausted. It was incredibly worth it, though; it gave me a deeper understanding of dyspraxia, intellectually, physically and emotionally. Having to concentrate on physical actions to a great depth than neurotypical people can be exhausting, and it certainly was that during the testing, because it was very focused - but don't think I'm complaining, because it was worthwhile for the end result.
The OT's had a second day of training today, then are going off to write the report, so I should get the first draft within the next couple of weeks - and then we shall know the outcome. I'm very much treating it as a new chapter in my life, because I can choose what I want to do with the report - and if there are any changes I want to take on as a result.
Whatever else, this year has been an incredibly interesting one - and this report will cap it very nicely!
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Dyspraxia Assessment ... The Next Step
I have been determined this year to explore my dyspraxia more - I've written about it in some depth - and also to seek a formal assessment of my condition, which is something I've never had.
The first step in this diagnosis was back in June when I attended Oxford Brookes University to help in some research (see my post http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2011/06/test-subject.html) and I received a report from them certainly confirming what I already knew - that my motor coordination and attention-holding was below the expected levels for someone of my age. Whilst not a formal diagnosis by any means, it was great to have the opportunity to contribute to ongoing dyspraxia research at a respected university - and seen empirical evidence of my condition for the first time.
The next step for me was to seek a formal diagnosis. For adults, this can be very difficult; it's not free for one thing. If you're a child or teenager, there are opportunities to get diagnosed through an Occupational Therapist or Clinical Psychologist at school - as an adult, you quickly discover that there's a cost attached to these, often around £500!
Eeek!
I've started working closely with the Kent Dyspraxia Association (KeDA) and am honoured to be a part of their group; it's a truly passionate society dedicated to raising awareness and offering support. I'm attending my first proper meeting in a couple of weeks, and it'll be an interesting - and positive - experience, as I've still only met one other dyspraxic in person, the legend that is Barbara Neill and is now a very good friend of mine. I'm looking forward to meeting other dyspraxics in person - although that's no disparagement to the online dyspraxic friends I've made over the last few months. Having a support group in any form is vital, and I don't know if they appreciate how valuable I find them. So, to Jo, Tom, Spencer and all the others - you rock!
I seem to have digressed slightly! I mentioned KeDA because when I met a few of the committee in Faversham for a drink, I fell into conversation with a qualified OT called Francis Beaumont. She's a lovely lady and we had a fascinating chat- especially when she mentioned that she was planning to train some OT's in formally diagnosing dyspraxia in adults ... and needed some test subjects. I volunteered so quick, it was almost a reflex action! I was glad when Frances accepted my offer - and it meant I would be able to get a formal diagnosis as well.
The session is in Faversham in November, and in preparation I recently received two questionnaires to fill in. They were incredibly in depth questionnaires and I spent a long time making sure the answers I was giving were completely honest. It was interesting to codify a lot of my experiences in these surveys, even more so than I've written in my blogs so far. One was a Sensory Profile on everything from auditory and movement processing through to activity levels and a lot more besides; the second one was a wider survey on my life up to this point, and it gave me the opportunity to talk about the issues I've experienced in my life. I won't bore you with details here, but it helped bring the subject into sharp focus!
My task for the coming week is to return the surveys to the OT who I'll be meeting on the day and then prepare myself for the actual meeting. To be formally assessed for a condition I've heard about all my life in relation to myself creates a strange mixture of emotions that I'm finding it difficult to analyse, but I'm taking it as a positive experience; I still don't know what I'll do with the diagnosis - maybe nothing except know that I've got it - but I know it's the right thing for me to do right now.
I'll keep you updated!
The first step in this diagnosis was back in June when I attended Oxford Brookes University to help in some research (see my post http://vikingbay.blogspot.com/2011/06/test-subject.html) and I received a report from them certainly confirming what I already knew - that my motor coordination and attention-holding was below the expected levels for someone of my age. Whilst not a formal diagnosis by any means, it was great to have the opportunity to contribute to ongoing dyspraxia research at a respected university - and seen empirical evidence of my condition for the first time.
The next step for me was to seek a formal diagnosis. For adults, this can be very difficult; it's not free for one thing. If you're a child or teenager, there are opportunities to get diagnosed through an Occupational Therapist or Clinical Psychologist at school - as an adult, you quickly discover that there's a cost attached to these, often around £500!
Eeek!
I've started working closely with the Kent Dyspraxia Association (KeDA) and am honoured to be a part of their group; it's a truly passionate society dedicated to raising awareness and offering support. I'm attending my first proper meeting in a couple of weeks, and it'll be an interesting - and positive - experience, as I've still only met one other dyspraxic in person, the legend that is Barbara Neill and is now a very good friend of mine. I'm looking forward to meeting other dyspraxics in person - although that's no disparagement to the online dyspraxic friends I've made over the last few months. Having a support group in any form is vital, and I don't know if they appreciate how valuable I find them. So, to Jo, Tom, Spencer and all the others - you rock!
I seem to have digressed slightly! I mentioned KeDA because when I met a few of the committee in Faversham for a drink, I fell into conversation with a qualified OT called Francis Beaumont. She's a lovely lady and we had a fascinating chat- especially when she mentioned that she was planning to train some OT's in formally diagnosing dyspraxia in adults ... and needed some test subjects. I volunteered so quick, it was almost a reflex action! I was glad when Frances accepted my offer - and it meant I would be able to get a formal diagnosis as well.
The session is in Faversham in November, and in preparation I recently received two questionnaires to fill in. They were incredibly in depth questionnaires and I spent a long time making sure the answers I was giving were completely honest. It was interesting to codify a lot of my experiences in these surveys, even more so than I've written in my blogs so far. One was a Sensory Profile on everything from auditory and movement processing through to activity levels and a lot more besides; the second one was a wider survey on my life up to this point, and it gave me the opportunity to talk about the issues I've experienced in my life. I won't bore you with details here, but it helped bring the subject into sharp focus!
My task for the coming week is to return the surveys to the OT who I'll be meeting on the day and then prepare myself for the actual meeting. To be formally assessed for a condition I've heard about all my life in relation to myself creates a strange mixture of emotions that I'm finding it difficult to analyse, but I'm taking it as a positive experience; I still don't know what I'll do with the diagnosis - maybe nothing except know that I've got it - but I know it's the right thing for me to do right now.
I'll keep you updated!
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Perceptions of Disability
I have dyspraxia & OCD (and some Aspergic traits thrown in for good measure), which have one thing in common; they are all "invisible" conditions. If I was sat quietly in a room, and concentrating on my expressions and movement, then it's possible you wouldn't have a clue that I had these conditions.
It's not just these conditions, of course, that are invisible; everything from diabetes to Deafness is not visible by just glancing at a person. Of course, in certain circumstances, there are subtle clues and hints that knowledgeable people can pick up on, but in the everyday world - a friend of mine twigged that I had dyspraxia before I'd even said anything, but then again, she is a medical assessor.
Being able to "hide" a condition can be nice, sometimes; it enables me to maintain my privacy should I choose. On good days, when the sun is out and the wind is light, I can appear almost ... ahem, normal ... and people wouldn't think any different about me to the next person. When I was younger, I was very sensitive about that. Now, my philosophy can be summed up by one word ... "meh". It doesn't bother in the same way it used to, and I'm a lot more open about my condition (as regular readers of my blog will know).
One thing still bothers me, though, and I can't help but get annoyed at it. It's when people assume; they assume that a Deaf person is stupid because they can't automatically lip-read, they write a dyspraxic person off as clumsy and worthless because they can't catch a ball or think that because you rely on routine to get through the day, that you can't ever do anything new. Instead of thinking, "Oh, maybe that person has a disability", and adapting their worldview to take into account someone else's perspective, some people just assume - and get it seriously wrong.
I'm fortunate to have Deaf friends; they're not my friends because they're Deaf, but their Deafness is of the things I know about them, as well as their eye colour, height and job. They're as - and in some cases more - intelligent as me, and just because they can't hear doesn't make them any less of a person. If someone's looking away from you and they ignore you when you call their name, have you considered that they could be deaf?
For me, I've become quite good at "hiding" my condition - sometimes, you wouldn't think there was anything "wrong." I tell people if the conversation comes round to it, but never make a fuss - and so people are often surprised when I do mention it. Why do I hide it? Habit, mostly - because, at school, I hated the thought of being treated differently ... and I still do! I've been fortunate in that the overwhelming majority of people I meet couldn't give a ha'penny damn; on the flipside, there have been (thankfully rare) occasions where people seem to struggle with understanding ... well, me. I get annoyed when that turns into thoughtlessness - when they don't think I might need some extra support or patience occasionally (which can happen occasionally - even I have to remind myself I'm on the mild end of the autistic spectrum and sometimes need to pace myself).
I must reiterate, though - that's thankfully rare (but tiring when it happens!). Most people are great - and recent conversations with new and old friends recently have reminded me that there are people out there who care and want to understand. You may not know who you are, but you rock all the same.
You'll find a lot of similarities between people with "invisible" conditions - oftentimes, they don't make a big song and dance about it. They might feel frustrated in private, but it remains just that - private. I'm quite a private person, so that's how I am, but I wonder if we don't always do ourselves a disservice by not broadcasting when something - or someone - has been insensitive.
That's the main reason I'm writing this blog; as a way of trying to raise awareness and show that I'm not fundamentally different. Yes, I may look at the world in a different way sometimes - but then, don't we all? What's my disability got to do with that? Let's start pushing back against those people who make assumptions - let's start gently reminding them that just because someone is Deaf, or dyspraxic, or ... well, anything across that spectrum, they're still people. Let's get that small minority of people educated!
It's not just these conditions, of course, that are invisible; everything from diabetes to Deafness is not visible by just glancing at a person. Of course, in certain circumstances, there are subtle clues and hints that knowledgeable people can pick up on, but in the everyday world - a friend of mine twigged that I had dyspraxia before I'd even said anything, but then again, she is a medical assessor.
Being able to "hide" a condition can be nice, sometimes; it enables me to maintain my privacy should I choose. On good days, when the sun is out and the wind is light, I can appear almost ... ahem, normal ... and people wouldn't think any different about me to the next person. When I was younger, I was very sensitive about that. Now, my philosophy can be summed up by one word ... "meh". It doesn't bother in the same way it used to, and I'm a lot more open about my condition (as regular readers of my blog will know).
One thing still bothers me, though, and I can't help but get annoyed at it. It's when people assume; they assume that a Deaf person is stupid because they can't automatically lip-read, they write a dyspraxic person off as clumsy and worthless because they can't catch a ball or think that because you rely on routine to get through the day, that you can't ever do anything new. Instead of thinking, "Oh, maybe that person has a disability", and adapting their worldview to take into account someone else's perspective, some people just assume - and get it seriously wrong.
I'm fortunate to have Deaf friends; they're not my friends because they're Deaf, but their Deafness is of the things I know about them, as well as their eye colour, height and job. They're as - and in some cases more - intelligent as me, and just because they can't hear doesn't make them any less of a person. If someone's looking away from you and they ignore you when you call their name, have you considered that they could be deaf?
For me, I've become quite good at "hiding" my condition - sometimes, you wouldn't think there was anything "wrong." I tell people if the conversation comes round to it, but never make a fuss - and so people are often surprised when I do mention it. Why do I hide it? Habit, mostly - because, at school, I hated the thought of being treated differently ... and I still do! I've been fortunate in that the overwhelming majority of people I meet couldn't give a ha'penny damn; on the flipside, there have been (thankfully rare) occasions where people seem to struggle with understanding ... well, me. I get annoyed when that turns into thoughtlessness - when they don't think I might need some extra support or patience occasionally (which can happen occasionally - even I have to remind myself I'm on the mild end of the autistic spectrum and sometimes need to pace myself).
I must reiterate, though - that's thankfully rare (but tiring when it happens!). Most people are great - and recent conversations with new and old friends recently have reminded me that there are people out there who care and want to understand. You may not know who you are, but you rock all the same.
You'll find a lot of similarities between people with "invisible" conditions - oftentimes, they don't make a big song and dance about it. They might feel frustrated in private, but it remains just that - private. I'm quite a private person, so that's how I am, but I wonder if we don't always do ourselves a disservice by not broadcasting when something - or someone - has been insensitive.
That's the main reason I'm writing this blog; as a way of trying to raise awareness and show that I'm not fundamentally different. Yes, I may look at the world in a different way sometimes - but then, don't we all? What's my disability got to do with that? Let's start pushing back against those people who make assumptions - let's start gently reminding them that just because someone is Deaf, or dyspraxic, or ... well, anything across that spectrum, they're still people. Let's get that small minority of people educated!
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.
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