Stepping out of anxiety - Selective Mutism edition

Flashbacks

As a teenager I thought of describing Selective Mutism a curse. It happens to one in a million, as if a witch were to have stopped by your crib as an infant as decided to give you the gift of silence. You know what I mean? It can be both a curse and a gift. People like me and you are able to relate to one another, use platforms like this to inspire.

As a toddler I could talk just fine at home. Screaming, crying, yelling, whining. Everything. I could understand and speak two languages since my family was of an asian background. I was born and raised in Australian. Although I spoke way more Laotian as a kid than I do now.

On the first day of preschool I remember crying a lot because I didn't want to go. I held onto my mother's neck clinging for dear life as the teacher pulled me away. Later that night I remember having a dream about the same event, then my mother's neck had shattered into fragments of glass and I had caused it. Scary dream.

For most of preschool I was a loner and never wanted to make friends or talk to anyone. I remember changing to a few different preschools. I ran into my childhood neighbours at one school, they were two sisters who recognised me. I followed them around until they left and I had no one.

At my last preschool I was fighting over a toy with a boy among the sand pit. I remember telling my parents the boy had hit me then my parents reporting it to the teacher. Nonetheless, for most of pre-school I was always a loner and spent the entire day waiting until my parents would come take me home. At the end of the day while everyone else was watching television or something I would sneak off to the back of the room and chill on the couch beside the door, waiting for my parents. Wanting to go home so bad is still a habit till this day😂

Then came the wonderful year of Kindergarten. I didn't talk to anyone on the first day or knew why I was there. I was known as the girl that didn't talk back then and all through out school. I remember peeing my pants quite a few times because I was too scared to ask for permission to go to the toilet. I remember needing to pee so bad I would cry, making it one of the worst case scenarios with busting I have had in my entire childhood.

Before leaving the house my grandmother would always make me drink a cup of water. I remember pouring out half the cup of water to drink less so I wouldn't need to pee so bad in class. Then at one point running out the door to the bathroom next door without permission and actually getting away with it. I think at last I worked up the courage to say the words 'toilet' to the teacher and finally being given permission. Of course, this didn't grant permanent confidence in asking for permission to the loo in following years to come. Unsurprisingly this happens all the time, from what I've heard many people who were shy as kids have experienced this.

I remember when the teacher would mark the roll and I would never say "here" whenever the teacher called my name. With each day that came the same thing would happen over and over again that the teacher would get used to it and no longer wait so long for me to respond. Back then i remember it being so severe i couldn't even nod or shake my head, all i felt was frozen.

Throughout the year I had a friend or two who I could talk to. These friendships never lasted past a school term or two, I remember changing friends quite a few times. I was also always behind with the work and listening in class, and that would continue throughout the rest of school. Sometimes I legitimately think I have some undiagnosed ADD or a undiagnosed learning disability. Which dampens my self esteem.

Every year that went by in school I always wounded up with a friend or small friend group who i could talk to, and no one else. To a best friend I felt comfortable around I could truly be myself without going mute, and a few girls had the luck of gaining my trust. To a lot of other kids this was obviously not normal. My best friends used to brag, "she only talks to me."