Here's the latest post on theTeenLife Blog:
“Dyslexia” by Tiberiu Ana/CC/flickr
My name is Acadia Connor and this year I am going into high school as a dyslexic.
In elementary school, I struggled with no explanation until 6th grade, when my English teacher suggested I get tested for dyslexia. This is the story of how my struggle ended.
Sixth grade, a year to forget.
Going to school was always dreadful for me. It was never a social issue, it was the “I got a 5% on another math test” or “a zero on another English paper”. I struggled the most in English; I would go into class having read the book, but when the test was in front of me it looked like the letters were having a “pool party”. My mom would call the English teacher, once or twice a week to discuss what was happening and what could we do as a team to have a better experience.
Near the end of the year, my teacher suggested I get re-tested for dyslexia. The school had done multiple testings before; I was told I did not have dyslexia.
Then it all began.
I found myself alone, staring at the wall. I was sitting in the waiting room trying to read magazines. Every once and awhile, I could hear waves of voices coming through the wall. I knew my mom, dad and the doctor were talking about what was wrong with me. My mom and dad wanted to help because school was such a struggle for me. Every once and a while words would float in and was starting to piece together that something was not right. This was one of the scariest moments of my life.
What happened next was one of the life-changing moments for me.
The doctor came out and asked for me to come in. I could see my parents “honey, it is going to be okay smiles”. I had just been in that room for five or six hours for testing so I was sick of the old windows with cobwebs, the couch, the too-small-to-do-anything table and the large computer. I was told to sit down which I knew meant this was going to be a long talk. A mix of emotions went through my mind, I was confused, sad, and angry all at once. I could feel my eyes turning to puddles.
I just wanted to know whether or not I could be cured. The doctor started to talk about my test results. I only heard sounds. I knew this was the quiet before the storm, every one or two minutes my parents would look over and I would smile back.
Finally, the part I had been waiting for was here. The diagnosis was here. He exclaimed, “ all signs point to mild dyslexia and ADD.” I had heard both of these terms before but I had never thought that I had it. I thought ADD was for only crazy kids and dyslexia was when you flipped your b’s and d’s. This wasn’t me! He went on to tell me more and more about what these two gifts were. I started to piece tighter why I had been struggling. It was all starting to make sense.
I was being called smart by the doctor, which I had not been called in years. I felt like the torture had stopped. Now that I know I am dyslexic I would never wish it on my worst enemy, but I would never want to live without dyslexia.
The post Relief– Finding Out I am Dyslexic appeared first on TeenLife.