Has anyone seen my disability?? Nope??

One of my most popular blog posts was this one when I spoke about what dyspraxia meant for me for the Dyspraxia Foundation's awareness campaign

Since then I've discovered there's more to me than dyspraxia. Whilst that diagnosis back in 2007 made a lot of sense, it still didn't explain everything and left me feeling like it still wasn't the answer.


Anyway, rather than ramble on about all my 'labels' I thought I'd just revisit the idea of what hidden disabilities mean to me:

Being absolutely knackered, from doing absolutely nothing.
Noticing 4 hours after I've left the house that my clothes are on inside out and my shoes are odd.
Repeatedly calling a client 'Lasagne' when her name was 'Lasana'.
Arriving to work an hour late because you work different shifts and you got the days mixed up.


Having mixed feelings about the day ahead - being super, run around the house and spin around in circles excited about your plans, but at the same time contemplating which would be the best way to kill yourself .
Having so many great ideas about what you want to do with your life, but forgetting them all before you get to write them down.
Starting to tidy your house but an hour later things are more in a mess than when you started.


Wearing odd socks everyday because it's easier that trying to match all my socks up.
Wanting to have friends but not wanting to socialise.
Buying a house with a garden so that you can spend time outside, but not wanting to go outside in case the neighbours can see you.
Loving the cinema, but not ever going because it hurts your ears and you hate sitting with so many strangers.



I just want to you to know that you're not alone, and not the only one out there that feels that way. I'd love to hear what your hidden disability means to you in the comments section below.

What do you mean, you can't see my disability?

xxx

Yes, my knickers are supposed to be inside out

Ever wonder how you get to the end of the week in one piece?

Feeling things weren't quite right at work yesterday I toddled off to the loo to find my knickers were inside out (in fact they still are as I type this, fancy!). Not quite as bad as the day I realised I didn't actually have a limp but that I'd got odd shoes on. 

Reminds me of all those occasions I've got my son home from school to find he'd had no underwear on all day. Luckily he's been dressing himself for some time now and does a much better job of it than me.

Some days its just harder to get your shit together than others. So for those days I keep a drawer full of stuff at work:
Hairbrush
Deodorant
Dry shampoo
Painkillers
Spare meds
Cash
Porridge
Phone charger
Nuts
Tissues
Tea bags
Vaseline
Hand cream
The list goes on... my work colleagues think I'm crazy.

I only use the stuff occasionally* (mainly because I've got a butt load of stuff in my handbag and coat pockets too!) but it's helps calm me down on those days I just haven't got it together on time.

The one thing I'm really bad at remembering is my meds, so I've got some of everything I need in all the important places- work, home, the car, my handbag.  That way I've nearly always got some to hand. I find this a real good way to compensate for poor memory.

How do you cope on a day to day basis with being so forgetful?

*who am I kidding, I'm rooting through that drawer on a daily basis!

You've gotta outrun the slowest one, unless you're really tasty

Anyone else get the urge to run like hell when they see someone else running? No? Just me? Surely not!

Ha yesterday I was walking into town with my son from school when this guy came running up the hill from behind us. "Ruuuunnnnn" I yelled as I started charging up the hill after this guy. So there we were, me and my son legging it up the hill past all the shops after this guy, my son looking at me in horror. I figured I better put this all into context for him, wanting him to know the seriousness of the situation.

"We just gotta outrun the slowest guy"

With that my son turned around and seeing no one behind us stopped dead in his tracks, and the guy in front ran into the estate agents. My son just stood there with that look on his face. You know, that same look the cat gives you when you crawl around the floor after him meowing. A mix of disappointment and pity.

Jeeze what is with kids these days. If some guy comes running past me I'm not about to wait around to find out what the crap he is running from. You've gotta outrun the slowest person, unless of course they're super skinny or you are super tasty looking.

For the record, it may have been a tiger. We live near a zoo. I'm not taking any chances.

I couldn't find any pictures of our tigers so you'll have to make do with this little fella I snapped the other day. Just pretend he has stripes. And a big tail. And says grrrrr a lot.

Grrr I'm a tiger. Promise.