Through My Eyes | Teen Ink

Through My Eyes

April 27, 2011
By Anonymous

These are the nights where I don't know what to do. I could talk to some one, but no one really gets it. I could sing, but no song expresses the right feeling or lyrics. I could cry but no tear will amount to how I'm feeling inside.
This thing, this 8 letter word, changes everything. It changes how people see me, treat me and how they act around me. They make me feel handicap and stupid. When I read out loud and I can't read the word aide people giggle and look at each other. They treat me like I'm blind and can't see them or I'm def and can't hear them. Well I'm dyslexic, and I might not be able to read the words they write down but I can see and hear the ones they speak. I'm not handicap. I'm not different from anyone else. I should be able to do everything anyone else can do. I want to be able to do anything anyone else can do. I'm waiting for that day... That day will be the best day of my life and I don't think that day will come until I die. Which, oddly, is the day I never want to come. I don't want to have to leave earth but this might just make it worth it. Messing up on the spelling of common words is getting old. Getting special treatment is something I never asked for. Becoming embarrassed because of reading words is the last thing I want to happen. Being dyslexic is something I will never understand. I will never understand why I have it or what good it does me. I will never understand how it works or how I'm suppose to fully work around It. I will never understand why god even did this terrible thing to anyone. I will never understand why god didn't just make me normal. I will never understand why the world decided that this sets me apart. Yes I can't spell the word choice but I can spell the word dyslexic. if u look at that word and look at those letter, then tell me how can i spell that? How can i put those letters together even though, in my mind, its not spelled like that? How can I spell a world like dyslexic but not be able to spell choice without Spell check? I can't answer that but I wish I could. All I know is every time someone makes a joke about someone being dyslexic it hurts. It hurts because they don't know what it's like. They don't know what it's like to go to room d225 not b225. They don't know what it's like to miss 7 questions on a math test because you can't tell if it's negative or positive. They don't know that its like to be labeled stupid after all these events. They don't know what it's like to have to awkwardly say "I'm dyslexic". They don't know what it's like and they don't get it. They don't get that we don't just switch the letters around and we don't read upside down. It's more complex then that. It's more effective then that. It's more hurtful. It's part of being dyslexic. It's part of my life and millions of others. The weird thing is, I feel alone with this. I feel like no one else has it quite like me and no one else is frustrated with it but me. No one but me. These are the nights where I don't know what to do. I could talk to some one, but no one really gets it. I could sing, but no song expresses the right feeling or lyrics. I could cry but no tear will amount to how I'm feeling inside. This thing, this 8 letter word, changes everything



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