#dyspraxic problems

Being dyspraxic affects all my motor skills (any movement I make) and my motor planning (my ability to plan a movement out) both are below average for my age. It also impacts my spatial awareness and sensory processing. Meaning that all of my senses are sensitive, and I have low spatial awareness.

This manifests as executive dysfunction, slowness in my movement, fumbling objects I'm holding or trying to pick up. There's also the fact that I will just flat out forget how to do seemingly simple actions, like making a coffee or knocking on a door. It becomes something I have to manually talk myself through, e.g knocking on a door becomes: "okay, close hand, pull it back SLIGHTLY, knock on the door, OK well not that hard lol, stop knocking, put your hand down, I SAID PUT YOUR HAND DOWN ALREADY"

Everyday I need to concentrate on where my body is, how my hands are moving, how small or big a movement needs to be, etc. It's exhausting. I think the word to sum up dyspraxia is: Concentration.

And all these symptoms get harder to deal with if I'm stressed, there's a short time limit, and if I'm tired.

But I think being dyspraxic increases my empathy for those that are also slow learners, or when people fumble objects/struggle to unlock a door with keys, any number of "simple" actions I'm able to understand that NO it isn't as easy as it looks.

I'm relieved to get a diagnosis and finally have a name and terms for what I struggle with. I can find a community of people that understand what it's like to put a lot of effort into everyday actions.

So then they shout at me like “speak probably” “you should remember things” “you should be more organised” “come on it’s just a run it’s not that hard”

So as some of you know, I wear colour-tinted glasses as I have Irlen Syndrome/Scotopic Sensitivity. It's been a long time since I've had to go without them for a full day.

Of course, because dyspraxia makes me very forgetful and I have a lot of problems understanding the signals my body gives me, I managed to get all the way to work before I realised that I had left my glasses at home the other day.

My employers were great, offered to let me go home and get them (I couldn't as my ride to work had already left and it would have taken four hours to get there and back by bus in the rural area I live.) Told me to let them know if I needed to take the day off (I can't afford to), took me off orders and onto running so I didn't have to deal with the screens of the tablets we use to take orders, and kept checking in with me that I was okay.

It was hell. Not only was everything too bright and giving me a really bad headache, every noise seemed so loud it was actually making me flinch and cringe away. My apron seemed too tight around my neck. My clothes felt really uncomfortable. And every minor touch was hell.

I couldn't focus on my usual 'waitress' script of acting normal, and whenever a customer did or said something that didn't fit with the normal routine (which happens multiple times a day and I deal with with only a little difficulty usually), it would completely throw me off.

I never realised how reliant I am on my glasses, or how difficult it used to be before I got them.

I mean... 

-There’s such an obsession with manners that no one actually says what they mean and they act like things are fine when they aren’t, because if they didn’t it would be Rude and Socially Unacceptable. So yeah... thanks, it’s hard enough to understand tone of voice, body language, and social convention anyway but sure, let’s turn everything into a bizarre theatre of pleasantries and give neurodivergent people an extra layer of encryption to decipher! Like, how am I supposed to tell the difference between “Yes that would be lovely!” and “Yes. That would be Lovely.” And then our parents tell us not to lie. What the actual? 

-Thanks to the good old Stiff Upper Lip, British people are forced to exist in a grey area of mediocrit. Like: ”I’m fine” apparently means “Everything is terrible” and “Not Bad” means “I’m so happy a little bit of wee came out”

- Sarcasm. The act of saying something when you mean the opposite, supposedly for comedic purposes. So even when British people aren’t being serious, they’re saying the opposite of what they mean. And they do the same “sarcastic joke” all the bloody time? “Lovely weather out there!” Apparently the appropriate response is “Absolutely glorious, isn’t it!” If you actually say what you mean, idk like “no it’s absolutely terrible I left the washing out and my shoes are muddy and my socks are wet and my hair is going to go poof” you get the Eye Roll because you Didn’t Understand The Joke, or if you take the joke further and say “yes it’s lovely I’m totally going for a swim in the sea later” only like 5% of British people will understand you’re continuing the joke, the remaining 95% will look at you with abject disapproval at the mere mention of extreme sports and nudity.

-Despite the deadpan expression and performative niceties, British people are never just a bit miffed if someone’s been a bit rude or annoying. They are incensed. Enraged! But of course, they won’t tell you this. That would be Rude. -If you don’t know the offender personally, (for instance if they are a shop assistant, waiter, bank teller, train conductor, chugger, Jehovah’s Witness, or the cat from two doors down who pood in your nasturtiums) you would be mistaken if you think the appropriate course of action is to ignore it and get on with your day, or to politely but assertively let them know that their conduct is inappropriate (Sound familiar, young neurodivergents?) Nope! What you should do, is write a Strongly Worded Letter.* * Strongly worded letter: an exercise in advanced sarcasm which challenges the Brit to cram as much passive aggression onto a page of A4 as humanly possible, and to let the offender know in no uncertain terms that the incident severely compromised the stiffness of your upper lip.

 -However, if the offender is known to the offendee (a relative, neighbour, housemate, mutual acquaintance) British people will drop subtle hints, like forgetting to put sugar in your tea when you explicitly asked for it, and then lecturing you that it’s not supposed to have sugar in it anyway. As if that isn’t rude. Another way to tell, is if they end an email with “Regards”. That means you’re in trouble! -Oh, I’m sorry! Did I not mention this one? There is a world of difference between “Kind Regards” and “Regards”. If the regards are kind, the person doesn’t give a sh*t about you. If the regards are neutral, you are literally Satan. And because you’re British, no one is going to sit you down and explain this, or let you know what you did to offend them, condemning you to forever being an unintentional and oblivious douchebag. (And knowing the British, your crime was probably that you put “regards” at the end of the email instead of “kind regards”)