My mom, who I love fondly, understands me too well. And don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a problem, in fact, I enjoy it. It means I don’t have to explain and say everything that’s on my mind. She feels my moods, my vibes and the atmosphere around me to better know how to help me better. She understands my stressors and what calms me. However, this post isn’t a boasting post. This is more like a “F*ck-You-System” post.
When I was first born, my mom knew instantly that something was wrong and I wasn’t just fussy. Basically, from the first time I cried until a year later, I didn’t stop. My mom was constantly looking for help and “screaming from the rooftops”, but nothing seemed to come. Now that I’m older, she tells me that she cried herself to sleep at night because of the way society treated her and myself. When my mom searched for aid, all she got was “you’re a bad mom” or that I was a bad child.
My mother tried putting me in classes–tap dance, to be honest–but the sounds were overwhelming. The society we lived in told us that, that would be fun for me; that making loud noises was playful. But I was a different child than that kid who this was fitted for. How could my mother know, though? Was the world a helpful place for her? Absolutely not.
At the age of three, I got my first diagnosis (Sensory Integration Disorder aka SID). I wasn’t a bad child and my mom wasn’t a bad mother. In truth, society had basically told her that she was a bad mom for having a baby who didn’t fit the social norms. I had a neurological probability. The world was too loud, too confusing and too overwhelming for me. My mom knew that something was wrong from the start and she had been correct.
How SID Effects Me Now:
Sensory Integration Disorder makes my social life pretty difficult. I find it tough to go to busy places (i.e. malls, attractions, amusement parks, etc.) and loud music still annoys the crap out of me, but sometimes I love it. When I went to the winter formal at my school, I loved feeling the beat pulse in my chest and the wooden floor bounce with moving people. But after a few hours, I went home, because the music, the bustling people, and the lights became all a little much for me.
Why am I explaining this, you ask??
I believe deeply that showing your passions is one thing, but connecting it to yourself and the world around you something else. I’m hoping that by sharing my own personal stories through a fake identity, I will be better able to shape and impact those around me.
What do I want you to take away from this??
I’m hoping that by me telling you this story, you will be able to better understand what SID is and how it effects people. When you some child crying while at the mall, remember this post and perhaps it’ll even change your views of that one kid.
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