i'm pretty sure that i'm losing my motor skills and i don't know what to do. around a few months ago i started realizing that they were worse than usual, but chalked it up to possibly just being a worse day since i already have dyspraxia. but over time it's been getting worse, my hands hurt faster than usual, sometimes my hand movements were delayed, my balance was slightly worse, but now my grip strength is getting affected, alongside the previous things mentioned getting worse.
the information i've seen online about it doesn't fit my scenario so i have no idea what it could be. i'm pretty young too so i don't think it could be something age related.
Just found out that I was diagnosed with Dyspraxia as a child. Fairly early. My handwriting is shit, so that's probably why. Instead of working with me to practice writing better, all my schools just decided shaming me over it was the better option.
i really wish there was more community and awareness around dyspraxia. it has such a large impact on my day to day life, and yet is so unknown. i want to talk to other people who understand, but it's so difficult to find anyone. maybe i'm not looking enough, but i rarely see anyone talk about their experiences
I really hate how much my specific flavor of autism + Dyspraxia (and to a lesser extent, adhd, but I think the autism/dyspraxia is the real culprit here) makes me struggle to go places independently. I wish I could just go hop in a car and drive wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted like so many people do. It would be so freeing if it wasn’t a whole ordeal just to go places. Like man, it’s so stressful when there’s something I want to do and I have to jump through hoops to figure out how to get there and if I can get back home safely.
I think maybe I just need more practice with busses so it becomes less of a stressful experience. I’ve been getting better at it but I still find it very scary. I just get so easily disoriented and confused in a way that I don’t think I could ever fully articulate to someone who hasn’t experienced their neurodivergence impacting them in this specific way. And that makes it genuinely feel unsafe to be on my own downtown or far from home or anywhere that’s big and complicated to navigate. And that’s just such a big restriction on my life.
I wanna hop in a car and drive a state over to see a solar eclipse and not have to worry if I can find a friend.
I want to go to a concert by myself.
I want to go downtown and just explore the city all alone without worrying I won’t find my way home.
There’s so many things I’d do if I could just go by myself and not worry.
(Hannibal helps his colleagues daughter when he suspects you might have dyspraxia)
Hannibal was having a dinner party and one of his colleagues was attending with his daughter. He was yet to meet you after all this time. Your father never seemed to talk about you all that much. He was mingling when he heard voices coming from the hallway. He peaked out to see your father gripping your arm tightly and scolding you. He stepped out and smiled. 'Is everything okay?' Hannibal asked. Your father looked up and smiled and let go of your arm.
'Oh, quite alright. My clumsy daughter here knocked over a vase. I promise I'll pay for it and she will be reprimanded,' he said. Hannibal looked at you and could see how embarrassed and scared you were.
'May I speak to your daughter alone?'
'Of course, Dr. Lecter,' he said politely before leaving you alone with Hannibal. You glanced up him in fear.
'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so clumsy and I can't help it, I promise I'll make it up to you,' you said with tears in your eyes.
'My dear, it's merely a vase. You didn't mean it,' he said. You looked at him in shock and he watched as you fiddled with your dress. You kneeled down and started to pick up the pieces he could see you struggled with picking them up. He quickly stopped you and helped you to stand back up again. 'I know this may seem out of the blue,' he said as he unbuttoned the cuff on his suit. He held his wrist out to you. 'Would you button this back up for me?' he asked. You looked at him nervously before you reached up and tried to button it. He could see how much you were struggling with it.
'I'm just nervous, I'm sorry.'
'It's alright, my darling,' he said as he took his hand away. 'Do you struggle with this even when you're not nervous?' he asked. You looked at him and nodded a little.
'Yes... I'm just really clumsy.'
'Have you heard of dyspraxia, my dear?' he asked. You looked at him in confusion and shook your head.
'No... I don't know what that is. I'm sorry.'
'Have you always been clumsy? Dropping things, struggling to walk, write and other things?' he asked.
'Yes... Things are really hard for me. I try my hardest, but I can't help it. Father hates it.'
'It sounds like more than just being clumsy, my dear. Dyspraxia is a neurological condition that effects motor functions. I've dealt with a few patients with it before,' he said. You shook your head and looked anywhere but his face.
'No, no it's not that. I'm just clumsy, I promise,' you muttered nervously.
'I assume your father gets rather upset with you?'
'Yeah, but I understand. I always break things, or take forever to get ready for school and stuff,' you said. Hannibal looked at you in thought. He pulled out a business card.
'Here, I'm free tomorrow afternoon. I want you to come by and we can speak. If your father asks what you’re doing, just tell him you’re doing some gardening for me to make up for the vase,’ he said. You to the business card and nodded.
‘Okay, I’ll come by after school.’
—
The next day Hannibal saw you being dropped off by your father. He smiled politely and led you inside once your father was gone. He led you into his office where there were a few things set out. You sat down and he handed you a piece of paper and some scissor. ‘I want you to cut a circle for me,’ he said. You nodded and looked at the paper, he could see how nervous you are. ‘Whatever the outcome you’re not in trouble, Y/N.’
You nodded again and began to cut the paper into a circle. He could see how much you were struggling, your hands not working in the way you wanted. He could see you getting frustrated and tears welling in your eyes. He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your knee. ‘I can’t do it, I’m sorry.’
‘My dear, that’s okay. It’s just a test to help me better understand all of this. If you get anything wrong, that’s okay,’ he said. You nodded and wiped away your tears as he grabbed a notepad and pen. He handed you a piece of paper with words written down. ‘I want you to copy this text in writing,’ he said. You nodded and composed yourself before you began writing. He watched the pure concentration on your face and the way your hand was so tense around the pen. Hannibal stood back up and watched as you continued to write slowly. You paused and tried to keep writing but your hand would hold the pen properly. You groaned in frustration and threw the pen across the room.
‘I can’t do it!’ You screamed. Hannibal stepped forward and took the page from you. You began to cry and buried your head in your hands. Hannibal knew that your father and teachers had probably always punished you for something you couldn’t control.
‘Let’s take a break. How about we take a walk?’ He asked. You sniffled and nodded as you stood up and he handed you some tissues.
'I'm sorry... I didn't mean to throw a tantrum. It's just so frustrating,' you whispered as you wiped your eyes.
'There's no need to apologise, Y/N. I can't imagine how frustrating it is, especially when people around you get so frustrated with you.'
You looked at him sadly. 'I don't mean to be a bad kid.'
'I know you don't, my dear. Come on, let's go for a walk.'
Hannibal had disguised a test as just a simple walk, but it was actually a test to see if your suspected dyspraxia effected your walking. He made sure to make his glances towards you subtle as he took note of how much you focused on a simple task like walking. He enjoyed that you were more relaxed and talking about your likes and dislikes. He knew there weren't any adults in your life that you trusted. You suddenly stopped yourself and looked at him.
'I'm talking a lot...' you muttered. He chuckled and looked down at you.
'I don't mind it one bit, my dear. I rather enjoy hearing you speak so passionately.’
‘You’re really nice. I haven’t met any adults that are nice to me,’ you said nervously.
‘Well, adults are usually very caught up in their own lives and take a lot of their frustrations out on children. Can I ask about your mother? Is she in the picture?’
‘No… She left with my older sister when I was two years old.’
‘Why didn’t she take you?’ He asked. You stopped and glanced down. ‘You don’t have to answer, my darling.’
‘My father had an affair with another woman while my mother was pregnant with me. Apparently she couldn’t look at me without thinking about his betrayal. I’ve never spoken to her,’ you replied. Hannibal looked at you sadly, he didn’t understand how a parent could be so heartless towards their own child.
‘I’m sorry you’ve had to live with that, Y/N. If you were to talk to your father about possibly having dyspraxia would he be understanding?’ Hannibal asked, even thought he already knew the answer.
‘Not really… He doesn’t believe in that stuff. He thinks I do it on purpose,’ you whispered.
‘Well, we don’t need to tell him. How about you tell your father that you enjoyed helping me and we make it a fortnightly appointment. That way I can start to help you through some of this without your father knowing,’ he said. You looked up at him in shock.
‘I don’t have any money,’ you said as he chuckled softly.
‘I’m aware, my dear. I’m not after money, I just wish to help you. How about every Wednesday afternoon?’ He asked. He could tell you were still apprehensive about it, he knew you didn’t trust adults.
feels like there just aren't any artistic moneymaking options for people with dexterity differences. it's just all about visual art and as soon as it's something with shaky lines or anything imperfect, no one wants it.
my favourite thing about being disabled is when people make fun of me for my extreme lack of motor skills I can just very calmly inform them of my condition and start listing symptons untill their flustered and guilty
Stand on the quarter mark. Nope, I'm off by a foot. Oops, I missed the quarter mark again. Why can I not stand on the quarter mark??!?!
Accidentally kicking/smacking/running over people
CAN'T STOP MY ANKLES FROM WOBBLING
FALLING OFF POINTE!!! CONSTANTLY!!!
I took a week off and now my feet can't remember what a waltz turn is
Can easily spot myself in the corps the ballet video because I'm the one who moves weird
Not being able to apply corrections immediately. It takes days or weeks of retraining. (And teachers never seem to understand.)
Picking up choreography just doesn't come naturally
But once you finally have that choreo/correction in your body, you have it down cold, forwards and backwards, because you've practiced it so many times. And it feels glorious ☺️
