Selective Mutism

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was something I felt like I needed to write, to share. I've dealt with Selective Mutism for my whole life, and it has affected me so much. Recently, I've been very depressed trying to deal with my Selective Mutism and other things I am dealing with. This essay feels a little bit unfinished, however, it was all I could write, all I could say. I'm not asking for sympathy, I just want to share some of the things I have been dealing with. This is mostly for me, however also for those who deal with similar problems to mine. I hope this helps someone.

Submitted: February 19, 2017

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Submitted: February 19, 2017



Selective Mutism.

Most people don’t even know what it is. Most people don’t know how much it affects people. Selective Mutism is when someone doesn’t talk in certain social settings, when someone can’t talk. It only affects 1% of the population. I am one of that 1%.

  Most people think I’m just shy. That I just prefer to stay quiet during class, that I never raise my hand because I don’t like to talk, or I just don’t know the answer. I want to be the kid who raises their hand. I want to be the kid who always says what they want to say, who is never afraid of what will happen when they do say it. I hate being me sometimes. I hate being the kid in the back of the class who knows the answer, who wants to say the answer, but is too scared to raise their hand. I hate being the kid who has anxiety attacks every single time I am called on in class. I hate being the kid who fails every single oral exam because I always mess up my words. I hate being the kid who is always too scared to audition for clubs or solos, even if I know I’ll get them. I hate being the kid who is too scared to talk to adults I’ve known my whole life. I hate being the kid who is too scared to live my life the way I want to live it.

  Most people don’t know how seriously SM has affected my life, how much it does now. My grandma died over the summer, and I never had a real conversation with her. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I was too damn scared to talk to her. I don’t know if she thought that I didn’t want to talk to her. I don’t know if she knew how much she really meant to me.

When most people see someone they know, someone they’ve known their whole lives, they say “hi.” Or “hey.” Or greet them in some way. I can’t do that. When most people are called on in class, they answer. I panic. For most people, saying “I love you” to the people that they love is easy. For me, it’s not. For me, it's one of the most difficult things in the world. That's only one more problem I have to deal with in my life.

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