When I started school, I was the shy kid, the one who did not have many friends because I was too shy to interact. In first grade I stopped speaking altogether unless it was when I was in the comfort of my own home with my parents and brother. Teachers would send progress reports home stating that I was being stubborn, not listening, distracted, and coming up on second grade it was asked of my parents to place me into Special Education. My parents did not understand this because my verbal skills were great at home. Unfortunately, when I was in school Selective Mutism had hardly been heard of or diagnosed.

 

So I entered school in second grade as a Special Ed. student. The adults and children around me did not understand why I just would not talk. It was a simple thing that all people do, so why not me? I was given bribes, "if you read out loud one sentence from the book, that will be all you will have to do." It did not work. I was not about to talk. I was petrified, in fact. Just thinking that I might have to talk made my heart beat faster and I would get really fidgety.  I was afraid that someone would make fun of the way I sounded, or maybe I would not get a word right and others would laugh. These thoughts consumed me every day.

 

I remained in Special Ed. until my family moved when I was in seventh grade. I finally had reached my teen years. Although I had complete abilities to speak, it almost became a habit that I just did not speak and the more others knew me, it was expected that I would not speak. This certainly made my life easier, but I was so far behind socially and educationally. I started speech and behavior therapy when I was 15. By this time I had nearly completed school. I decided that I was "stupid," mainly because of being in Special Ed. When I did graduate high school, it was not with the best of grades. However, through three years of speech and behavior therapy I learned that it was OK to talk.

 

It can still be a struggle at times for me even now. I struggle having to get up in front of a crowd and give a speech. Sometimes, even with a group of friends, I struggle to speak. If I am in a meeting at work and I have a question, I will sit with it as my heartbeat goes faster and my ears turn red, and then I will finally just ask. It turns out I was okay to talk.

 

I carry a smooth rock in my pocket every where I go. This is a way for me to transfer my anxiety onto something rather then keeping it held inside me. When the rock is in my hand, I know I can speak. Many people who know me today would have no idea that I struggled most of my school years with Selective Mutism.

 

Over the course of the last 15 years I have slowly been allowing me to come out of my protective shell. I have realized that my words spoken out loud will not hurt me. I was holding onto more fear about speaking, which in turn was causing even more fear to speak.

 

Now I work at a treatment center for troubled adolescents. I have 2 years of college in an on ground college setting, and a year of college online. And while I still may struggle at times, I have learned that many people want to know what I have to say. When I speak people listen and don't laugh or judge as I thought they would. I know now that my voice is the most important tool that I have and that without it, some very important ideas, mistakes, or many other things might have been missed.

 

I understand what it feels like to be so scared to talk that the words just won't come. I understand that people may pressure you into talking and, by doing that, it only makes you want to crawl into your shell a little further. I understand that when you do have something to say, it feels as though it could kill you before you have even said a word. But life does not have to be this way. There are people who  want to hear you, in your own time. Your thoughts are just as important and valid as anyone else’s. If you would like to know more about me, I have included my e-mail. I am happy to "talk"!

 

Cheyenne
chantne1@yahoo.com