Dyspraxia
I wrote this inspired by living with the development condition dyspraxia, also inspired by a Hollie McNish poem ‘Embarrassed’.
I remember my schoolteacher
saying “even my daughter isn’t this thick”
turns out that I was nine years old
and I was just dyspraxic
that it took me a bit longer just to process in my mind
sat on information simmering in brine
even now, the fact I’m 25 and take longer to do some things
than everyone else still feels offensive
because we live in a world where everything is fast
and even to find the words when I’m being asked
the most basic of questions, I stumble into silence
to get the words out is still a task wrapped in violence
my mind to mouth stammer — a glitch — the slight pauses
that felt like thousands of race horses
charging at this nine-year-old boy, scared stock still
living with a disability that I guess is invisible
something that impacts preparing meals and getting dressed
and even though I learned to play chess
it impeded my ability to grasp small objects
deal with emotions and function in social situations
I remember as a teen going to the train station
by myself for the first time, and it shouldn’t be a big deal
but dyspraxia impacts time management and organisation skills
so I used to not make plans with those I wanted to be friends
out of fear that my dyspraxia would scare and offend
like I didn’t want it to become a thing
as it can also be pain, heartache and mental suffering
more than anybody knows, even my parents
on some days, I am still that scared boy in year five
thinking why his teacher wrote him off as stupid
why it took me longer to be at the same level as my classmates
in afternoons of cricket, tea and school fetes
into my routine, dyspraxia is built
and my walks with Maria, music that’s alive in the hills
