Dyslexia
My dyslexia has been playing on my mind a lot over the last few months. Most of the time my coping mechanisms and alternative ways of working mean that it is a part of my life (that is always there) but that doesn’t take up space in my brain. In the past I’ve drawn strength from the social model of disability — recognising that the world isn’t overly adaptable or accessible and that the difficulties I face are not because there is something wrong with me but because systems are not designed or set up to accommodate difference. I’ve spent years working on myself to get to a point where I am proud of my disability. I’ve learnt to lean into resistance and rebellion by actively challenging preconceived notions of the ‘right’ way of doing things and modelling being ok with doing things differently and asking for answers or support when I need it.
Having said all this the last few months have felt hard. I’ve found myself succumbing to the same thought patterns that plagued my school years — that maybe this is me, my fault, my stupidity. Maybe I’m not clever enough or can’t keep up or hold all the information I need in my short term memory. I’m not going to go into the reasons why my old insecurities have raised their head — some of them are beyond my control and some are in my head, some are the comments and actions of others, some are exacerbated by the pandemic (being exhausted makes everything a little harder).
Back in the days of an office environment I’d ask the room how to spell a word I was struggling with, now I’m sat on my own in a room. A challenge that would have taken 2 seconds to solve becomes a 10 minute battle to try and get the word I want to spell close enough to the correct spelling so that the spell checker can interpret what I am trying to say. Anyone who has been through this struggle can understand the frustration and sometimes feelings of shame that accompany such a battle. If I’m honest it’s a battle I frequently lose and results in me not being able to use the words I want to or that work best within the sentence — I censor myself, change the sentence, change the meaning. Defeat.
And dyslexia isn’t just the spelling the word wrong, it’s using the wrong word (write and right; scuming and succumbing, dissent and descent), it’s the misreading, keeping up with the reading, retaining the information, it’s pressing send on a tweet and reading it back to notice all the mistakes that weren’t there the first time I read it (using the hashtag #ShiftThePower and regularly forgetting the ‘f’), the hours on zoom making the letters jump more than they did and the level of concentration for the length of time at the speed we are currently working is exhausting. The processing that takes three times as long is hurting my head. The cogs in my head whirring and as they get faster and faster the wheels start to come off, the coping mechanisms that have served me well in the past start to falter. It’s a rapid spiral into more mistakes, self doubt and a plummet in my confidence.
When I was younger I used to talk about this stuff all the time but as I’ve got older, my coping mechanisms have gotten better, I’ve moved out of the education sector where much of this plays out and I’d forgotten the power and healing in community.
But last week I tweeted about about how bloody frustrating it was to try and spell repetition and the response was amazing. I’d forgotten that the things that frustrate me frustrate other people too. That there is strength in finding your people and comfort in sharing. Of having someone to talk to who gets it, people to share the frustration and sometimes hilarious mistakes that come with it. The ways it shapes and impacts the way I (we) think and work and problem solve. The conversations I’ve had with friends, colleagues and strangers have been really reaffirming and have reminded me lots of the importance of sharing the highs and lows, the achievements and the quirky ways my mind works. So I’m going to try and do a little more of that, if only to remind myself that I’m not stupid and difference is a strength.
