The story written last year, titled "The voice of the glance" is the fruit of my great desire to communicate and tell my story. It wasn't easy because my thoughts, especially when the topic is emotionally difficult, become distorted, and I feel them chase each other, and I cannot sort them out in an orderly fashion.
When this happens, my mother steps in and helps me to proceed methodically.
Regarding the writing of my story, this is how we proceeded:
First we put on paper all the thoughts that crowded my mind. Then we set them in time and organized them grammatically and syntactically.
All this preliminary work allowed me to remember and peacefully reflect upon the experiences and put them on paper more convincingly, driving away the doubts that kept arising in my mind.
Furthermore, my story allowed me to grow stronger as a person, at a time in which my work environment fostered the view of a person who had reached the pinnacle of her achievement and who should settle for what had been proposed for her.
I always felt I was a lively person. When I was little I would, through vocalizations, glances and smiles, draw the attention of all around me to obtain what I desired.
I remember the first time I got a doll by staring at it on a shelf, during a rehabilitation session. It was a cause for celebration for all who were present: "Hurray, Valeria found a way to ask for a doll."
"How did she do that? It's not possible," others said.
"She stared at the shelf, vocalizing, and when I gave her the doll, she smiled," replied the physiotherapist.
Since then there have been a series of more and more precise discoveries in communication.
The glance is the starting point
There are dozens of expressions that I am able to utilize to communicate with others. But are others able to interpret my signals?
I wonder what would've become of me had I not had around me all these years, but especially in the first years of my life, people who were able to value my way of communicating, to the point of fighting alongside me in order for me to have an instrument that would leave no doubt as to my intention.
My mother explained to me that all these expressions are part of a code that each person
expresses in the first years of life. I kept these expressions, while also acquiring the alphabetic code that allows me the opportunity to enter into a relationship with all those who desire to know me and are patient enough to let me build sentences.
I know I am slow, but then I say, "you try writing everything letter for letter!"
Sometimes, in order to be faster, I write in a succinct manner or through "key" words. For those who don't know me or for those who know the pathology but not the person, this is evidence that I don't know how to express concepts, desires, notions, and therefore, that I'm not intelligent.
In the last few years, I have added to my written and physical communication another mode of expression: I use color (painting is a word I still won't use). I like very much to use color, and I do so following the instruction of an art teacher who has devised for me, without requiring any type of movement, instruments and positions that allow me to use colors in a personal way.
I hope that this description of my diverse modes of communication, along with its accompanying video, may be of help to those who find themselves living with others who cannot comunicate verbally.
For me, learning to communicate has been the greatest joy