Dyspraxia Assessment - and Confessions of a Dyspraxic

    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!

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!