This poem has already been copyrighted and published. It’s about my experiences with dyspraxia, which is a neurological disorder that affects my speech ( my talking skills), hand, feet, and eye coordination. I’m very insecure about it and it’s truly set me back. I try really hard to mask it and it makes me feel so isolated sometimes. But I feel like this is one of the best things I’ve ever written and I wanted to share it with you guys.
My dyspraxia is my biggest fear, It makes me wonder how and why I’m still here, I’d cry over the sight of the words I’d write, The letter D was my worst enemy at age five, As I’d stare at the letter over and over again, And I couldn’t even hold my pen, It would fall and drop and I’d feel so defeated, Such a simple task required so much of me, And I’d look down at that piece of paper, Tattered and torn, And I’m was so worn out by the worry of never succeeding, So I’d end the day with some heavy breathing. A year later, My parents took me into what was called an Occupational Therapist, Not someone who could fix your mind, But someone who could fix “your kind”, And when she asked me to look at her in the eyes, I’d fidget and stare at the ground and when she’d snap her fingers, It made my little heart cry, I still couldn’t write and I struggled to lift that weight, And I worried how embarrassed they must be for me, When I just stood at my un tied tennis shoes and sighed, My hands would slip from that pencil grip when I attempted to write my name, And when I finally was able to trace those dots that I could never find their connection, I still felt so much shame, I perceived myself as an unsolved case. And in elementary school, They tried to figure out what made me lose my cool, I’d blurt out facts about time and space, History was the only thing that prevented this kind of ache, Ask me anything, because I just want to be smart like you, It was my only escape, my only way that I could prove to myself that I have something that’s worth living inside of my brain, The pain of other people and the wars they fought, Was the only thing keeping me from retreating from mine, But when it was time for the second class, My mind would go blank, My feet would tap, And my legs would shake, And I went off somewhere up in space, Until my teacher would slam my desk, “ Look at you, you’re such a mess.” I felt that bullet go right through my head. They put me in a special class, One where I was taught how to act, And when they asked me how I felt, I told them that I feel stuck in this shell, I’m here, and everyone else is there, And all I can ever do is compare, I just want to look at myself one day, And feel like I’ve made it and succeeded, But when my teacher would rip my essay and say it’s useless, My shaky hand would lay and I began to feel like a mistake. And finally, in 6th grade, I was able to twirl and tie, The laces on my two feet, But when I tried to speak, I didn’t have anything to say, Making friends was a never ending battle, Because only saying hi only gets you so far, Because only complimenting a girls shirt or the color of her eyes, Won’t get you a prize. I was put in another class, Where I learned how to interact, Because under that mask, Was a mouth that I didn’t know how to use, Except when it came for reciting the facts that I read under my bed, Because that was all my worth and all I knew what to say, Because that was all I knew how to be, Except I didn’t even know who I really was, So I’d look at the images of other people on my phone, And when I’d go shopping, I’d steal their wardrobe, My closet changed every three weeks, When I discovered that this outfit or the new personality trait that I tried to take, Wasn’t really me, A new disguise to hide everything I didn’t like, And that’s when I pushed the books and facts aside. And as I got older, Nothing improved, And even though I succeeded, I was still that little girl who couldn’t write deep inside, I’m blind when someone points out something in front of my eyes, I’m lost when someone tries to explain something to me with such clarity, And then I’d apologize for being such a pain, Because even though I have the grades and I’m almost at that age, I’m still falling very behind, I spent 3 hours studying just to get that A, I spent 16 years writing just to barely hold my pen straight, I feel bad for my teachers for all the times I asked for reassurance, I feel bad for my parents for all the times I couldn’t find the thing right in front of me, I even feel bad for myself sometimes, Because I worry how I’m going to survive, Such a simple mistake could take my life away, But I pretend that everything is fine, But I pretend that I’m alright and above my age, When they don’t know that I sat in front of that car with such rage, If only I had the ability to just turn a page, If only that I had the strength to just focus on what I see, But there’s always something in my way, But there’s always something that keeps me away, And dyspraxia, my dear, That thing is me.
