Entries:
Most Recent
Previous
Next
All

Last Five:
- moving
- this is how i feel
- stoats in winter coats
- receptionists are uncaring and the government is evil
- withdrawal

Other Stuff:
Profile
Notes
Email
Host

save the internet!


selective mutism

Thursday, Apr. 17, 2008 | 5:31 AM

another tiny bit of my story...

...

I got to the point that I refused to speak, even when the teachers tried to force me. I would only talk to Tara, and a few other friends I occasionally had. They made fun of me a lot for this, and also for acting like a cat. I made this worse by retaliating in my non-verbal way of hissing and scratching at them. I will admit, I was weird. But I was also a little kid. Little kids are weird. It�s not like they weren�t weird themselves. They barked at me, saying �Cats are supposed to be afraid of dogs.�

I was pestered daily with people trying to get me to talk, and questions of �Why don�t you talk?� They talked amongst themselves, right in front of me, about how weird I was. I was often given the dirtiest of looks, as if I was the most disgraceful thing in their school.

There was one group of boys that was particularly terrible. They would point and laugh at Tara and I whenever they saw us. They would even follow us around the playground and do this. There were times I was sitting in the grass, minding my own business, and one of them would lift their leg over me like a dog, as the others laughed. (i shoulda got up and kicked him in the balls.)

In my frustration, I developed the habit of saying just two things to people: �Shut up,� and �Go away.� Then they would bother me even more, in an attempt to get me to say it again.

Facing my teachers in the classroom was just as bad as facing my classmates on the playground. It got especially bad around sixth grade. They would try to force me to talk, and I would just mutely sit there. They would hold up the whole class, waiting for me to utter my response. Everyone stared at me as I stared down at my desk in extreme humiliation. Minutes seemed like hours under the weight of their glances, and the deafening silence was agonizing.

At this point I had realized that my behavior was stemming from fear. I wondered how they couldn�t see that I was afraid. Though I was an otherwise good student, they thought I was doing this out of defiance. They told me I was disrespectful.

...................... .......................................... ............................................. .......................... ....................... .......................... ................................................... ................................ .................. ...................... .......................................... ............................................. .......................... ....................... .......................... ................................................... ................................ .................. ...................... .......................................... ............................................. .......................... ....................... .......................... ................................................... ................................ ..................

<< / >>