For years i struggled...

I STRUGGLED FOR YEARS AGAINST A CONDITION I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD

From an early age I had problems and could not do the things other kids
could. I was slow, awkward and hesitant. I remember joining the cub
scouts and playing rounders. A helper at the cub group used to work
with my Mother would say to her, 'John always looks so surprised when
he hits the ball'.

To begin with it wasn't such a problem. Pre-school I would play with my
neighbours children. Even starting school at five life seemed good. I
had my friends from next door and soon made new ones. The PT we did at
school was not very demanding buy I remember the hula hoops. No matter
how hard I tried I just could not get it to spin round my body. It was
the same with skipping ropes.. I could manage, maybe, about one jump,
after that I would always get the rope tangled in my feet.

It was frustrating and I wondered why I could not do these things but
at the time it did not seem so bad. My parents used to buy me lots of
toys for birthday and Christmas but I would never play with them. I was
more interested in taking my dog for walks in the country and I also
developed an interest in reading.

The other boys would be interested in making things and taking things
apart to put them back together. Me, I never was. Looking back I see
that helped set me apart from the other children. Reading , History and
writing stories were my real passion. If someone gave me some money I
would be off down the shops and come back with a book.

It was really about nine when real problems first started. That's when
the other boys started playing football at school breaks. I was just no
good. I had no ball control, could not co-ordinate and so I was
rejected. At break times I would wander round the playground by myself
feeling very lonely.

About that time we also started doing more serious PT lessons such as
gym work. Like the football I just could not do it no matter how hard I
tried. The other kids started to call me all sorts of names and bully
me. At nine years old I was a social outcast.

Still, at least I had my books and a passion for history. This helped
keep me sane. My reading and knowledge of history were far in advance
of the other children. Somehow the teachers did not seem to realise
this. This was probably due to my hand writing. I just could not
control my hands properly and that how we were judged, on how neat our
writing was.

My problems with handwriting extended to artwork. My drawings were like
a two-year-olds. Every art session my drawing wouls be passed around
and all the other kids would make fun of me.

Despite my love of reading also had real problems with spelling and
also very simple maths. I just could not do simple mental arithmetic in
my head. I remember after one test in which I got nothing out of ten
the teacher said in front of the whole class 'your the laziest boy I
ever meet' Like I wanted to get no mark. The thing is that no matter
how hard I tried I just could no do it.

I can also remember another teacher asking the entire class why was I
like I was. 'Because he's dumb' came back the comments.
'Its because he's lazy' said the teacher. So I believed I was stupid,
lazy, useless, and no good at anything. That's is what I thought. I
accepted the bullying, like somehow it was what I was worth.

At 11 I moved on to Secondary Modern. Things got worst. The bullying,
struggling to do simple things, my feeling of low-esteem, the anxiety I
felt in school lessons. I do remember however, one teacher, Mrs Potter,
who was I English teacher when I was 11 and 12 praising ability and
even introducing me to the head of the English department saying I had
a wonderful command of English.

No other teacher ever said anything good about me or took the time to
get to know me.

We had to do woodwork. Most boys loved it. For me it had the same
feeling of dread as PT. I could not saw straight, chisel, hammer a nail
in a piece of wood. I remember the woodwork teacher pickling up a piece
of work I handed in. 'What sort of work is that' he shouted at me. I
just stood there shaking.

The PT got worst. When we played football I always tried to avoid the
ball. I was always the last to be choose for teams. I was good at
running but could not run and jump. The PT was once talking about what
we were going to do when we left school. 'How about you Scovell?' He
said with a smirk. 'By the time you are 50 you might get tired of
digging holes in roads.' All the kids laughed.

Every year at school we had progress exams. In my third year the
history teacher said, 'I wonder where John Scovell will come in the
history examination'. I came second out of the year. It was the same
with English and Science. The same thing happened in the following
year. Yet, incredibly, nothing happened. The school still treated me as
if I was stupid.

I remember in my last year at school. We all had an interview with a
careers adviser. At the time I was interested in joining the RAF.
'Forget that he said. You could try the Army. You might scrap into the
infantry'

I went to work in a men clothes shop. This turned out to be a real
mistake. One thing I had to do was tidy and straighten all the
trousers. I just could not do it. I could not work fast enough and
unable to straighten them correctly. When I started I was shown how to
fold trousers so the fitted into a bag neatly. Most people learned in
about five minutes. It took me two months.
I remember the man who job it was to train me saying , 'He
thick'.

He gave his notice in to go to a better job. He spent his last week
shouting at me. 'You might think as it my last week I should go easy on
you but I am still paid to do a job' he said to me. What a liar! He
shouted because he enjoyed it. He was really lazy and did not care
about the job.

Every day when I went to work I would feel dread. What was going to
happen to day? After a year I left before I got sacked and went to work
in a local factory.

In the factory I was lucky. I worked with four other people in our own
room. The work was easy. A machine pressed out metal lids. As they
built up I put them into a wooden box. This was what I felt I needed.
Something easy and protected. Yet I wanted more. The work was boring
and frustrating. I felt I had more in me but did not really have the
confidence to try anything else.

Sometimes I had to go to the main part of the factory. I always found
this an ordeal. In theory the jobs were easy but I could not work fast
enough and found understand always what I was supposed to do.

I decided that I wanted more. I enrolled at night school and studied O'
level English language. I felt frightened on the first night. Memories
of school were still fresh in my mind. To my surprise I found I enjoyed
the lesson and seemed to do well on the course.
I sat the exam and waited the results.

I can still remember how I felt when, three months later, I fond I had
passed with a grade C. I have never in my life felt such a feeling of
achievement. 'I've proved you all wrong!' I wanted to shout. The next
year I studies for two O levels in History and Sociology. I achieved an
A grade at History and a B in Sociology.

As well as making progress on the academic side if things I also worked
on my fitness. I started running and at one point even tried to enter
the London Marathon! I joined a health club which meant I could
exercise on machines to improve my strength and fitness. As this was
not part of a class there was none if embarrassment I suffered at
school. I tried judo and karate. These two were not really for me. I
did not have the co-ordination. But at least I was getting s strenuous
workout.

Once again I enrolled at night school. These time two A levels in Law
and Political Sciences. I felt very proud of myself when a year later I
achieved grade C in both subjects. My finest moment was the day I
handed my notice in at the factory to go to university to study for a
full time law degree.

Imagine the kid who all the teachers had given up on was doing a law
degree. I would love to have seen the look on some of my teacher's
faces! My reasons for doing law lay deep down. It lay in all the cruel
comments and bullying over the years. Law had a certain status and
respect something which I was not used to. My plan was to qualify as a
lawyer and them go back to my home town and practice in law.

In my mind I could picture the people saying. 'Look, that's John
Scovell! He's a lawyer with a fancy car, fancy house and fancy wife. I
guess it was a kind of revenge. Success as the saying goes is the best
revenge. If I had chosen a subject on the basis of what really
interested me I would have opted for history.

Unfortunately my plan did not work out. I did achieve a law degree but
I really hated the subject. It was three years of hell. I did go on to
the College of Law to study for my Solicitor's finale examination but
by that time I was mentally tired. After six months I left the
course.

I started temping at a local hospital. I was cleaning toilets and ward,
taking patients their tea. Imagine, three years of studying law and I
end up cleaning toilets. The thing is I could not do it properly. I
could not work fast enough and struggled. I could not understand it.
How could I have a degree in Law yet not be able to do a job that
anyone should be able to do.

It felt like I was trapped in this body that would not do what I
wanted. Almost as if it was not my own body.

After countless temporary job I obtained a permanent position carrying
out administrative duties in the Department of Trade and Industry. It
was a relief to have a permanent job after nightmare of temping. But
when compared to my ambitions of becoming a lawyer it seemed such a let
down.

I coped with this job fairly well. However there were issues. For
example if ever I did data entry I would always make lots of mistakes.
In my annual appraisals they always said promotion could not be
considered until these problems had been ironed out.

For satisfaction I turned outside work. I leaned to drive in an
automatic car. I brought a flat. I took up yoga which I found a great
help. I become interested in environmental issues and started writing
articles for my local paper. I helped set up a local environmental
forum. It true to say that my life outside work was fulfilled.

Somehow, my achievements at work did not match my achievements outside
work. I was becoming increasingly frustrated and discontent.

Then a few months ago a chance reading of a letter in a newspaper
change my life. The letter was from a lady who was worried that her
nephew's schoolwork was being hampered by his bad handwriting caused by
not being able to hold the pen properly. The reply to the letter said
he probably had dyspraxia, a neurological condition.

I felt overwhelmed. Could it be that this is what I had? I looked up
the subject on the Internet. The symptoms all matched me. It described
the pre-school child and the school child. Again my own life mirrored
this. I realised this is what I had. And do you know what else.
Millions of people have. It not just me.

For me this moment was like discovering the meaning of life,
enlightenment, the kingdom of heaven all rolled into one. It was as
powerful, for me, as St, Paul's conversion on the road to
Damascus.

I have just been formally diagnosed as having both dyspraxia and
dyslexia. But, get this , my verbal reasoning abilities fall within the
'superior range'.

It feels a bit like being reborn. I understand now that I am not stupid
or useless but suffering from a hidden disability. I think I need to
reprogram my image of myself. I intend to change my life.

I am going to receive help for my dyslexia. It remains to be seen how I
will respond but I am determined to do my best.

I also want another career. I might study history and perhaps train as
a history teacher. Then again...All I know really know is that my life
has entered a new and exciting phase

There are time when I ask why me, what have I done to deserve this.
Then I remember a wise man once telling me 'there's a reason for
everything. That may not sound very scientific but if you think about
it makes sense. Maybe because of this condition I am a more
compassionate person. Perhaps without it I would have been like the
people who bullied me. Yet what I really want is just to be normal.
Sometimes just before I go to bed I really wish that when I wake up I
will be seven years old and be just a normal kid and live my life
again. I know, of course that is not going to happen. I am going to
have to live with this for the rest of my life. I think it comes down
to this: either I give into this condition or I fight it.

I choose to fight .