Those so called "SM Experts" are not experts.

What desperate parent wants to come across someone telling them their kid has to go on an IEP or 504 program? Not me. If someone ever told ME that I'd slap them silly because I'm not not smart enough to be in the 'normal kid class' and don't need THAT much help.

MORE than half the SM Parents out there aren't even looking at the fact that their child is smart, because at this point, more than likely the kid is under 10, the parent is at his/her 'last resort' and the child has no concern in their lives other than why he or she doesn't talk. And they want to get better and they don't know how, SO, they AGREE to this PROGRAM to make them "SMART".


Oh yeah, Merry Christmas.

Midwest Clinc-y.

So.... Yesterday our band class got to go to the Midwest Clinic in Chicago. It wasn't that bad... Or as bad as I thought it would be. It was pretty funny actually. (:

First we got on the bus which took forever to get on because we were shoving each other out the door... I sat next to Cassie on the bus. Haha, then we ended up watching Wall-E because of the stupid school policy of only G-rated movies. So we got there, which took forever by the way, and we waited like 2,085,437,581,643 years for the people to direct us to our 'homeroom' so we could put our stuff down and EXPLORE! We were supposed to divide into groups of ten. We had like 15 people in our group though, and I don't even know if I even remember HALF of who was in it except for: Me, Cassie, Shae, Matt, Meg, Mitch, Olivia, Tom, Anna..... and yeah I can't remember the rest. (:

So we got a bunch of free candy and looked at instruments and stuff. Blahhh. Then it was... LUNCHTIME. The food was really expensive.. Mr. Harrison (Our band teacher) gave us each a $10 bill to buy lunch. And guess what? I spent $9.98 on a stupid sandwich. But Mitch, being very un-Mitch-y gave me $3 I didn't even ask HIM for money to buy a drink (I just got an icky feeling, ha ha ha! ). So I was like, "SWEEEEET I GOTTA DRINK NOW!!!" and ran to get it. Thirst calls my friend. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. ;)


About five bites into my sandwich I realized I talked to the cashier when I got my food. It was a weird feeling at first and I stopped eating and stared at my sandwich and then I stared at Cassie and back at my sandwich. She laughed and so did I, but only because it seemed silly that I thought talking to the cashier was scary at first, but I did it anyways... That moment felt really good. (:


So we ate and then went to look around more, but our group somehow got split up. My arms hurt though from carrying a bag to haul all the free stuff around. Plus my grody clarinet and humongous coat and bag for extra clothes (We had to wear a TUXEDO!!!!).


More stuff happened but I can't type it all right now. :P I'll update y'all later. (:

Suffering In Silence.

I tried writing a short song or poem; Like it? Haha, I think it's alright-y.

You ignore me and shove me into the corner, telling me to suck it up!; It's not that hard. Well, for me it is! You don't know what its like; with your big mouth and lies. With your false heart and eyes.. I'm not bothering you; I can't say anything anyways.. So I just sit here and wait, suffering in silence...

SM Research Project.

A teacher of mine is letting me do selective mutism for a research project. We have to read a novel and the best one I could find was about a 12-year old girl named Jinna from China. Anyone know of a few better ones? >:*

I'm using Gale Group for my articles and SM websites. I feel hesitant doing this topic because I don't exactly agree with alot of the sources and their diagnosis and blah. Oh well. I'll ask the teacher if I can add part of 'my story' to it. She'll probably say yes since my mom thinks its a good idea. Advice from mommy. (x

Updates?

I haven't written anything in awhile so I decided to rush on this very quickly. (:

Let's see, I've had splitting headaches for awhile now,and I'm wondering if this could be part of the SM thing? Hmmph. :/ I'm getting an MRI done on my head, so I'm wondering if this could help?

I had a few miserable last couple of days.... COUGHStupidWeddingCOUGH.

I should write a book. Haha.

School is not fun.

I hate waking up for school.
I wish I could take a break from it.
Just because I have to drag myself out of bed telling myself to suck it up.
That it won't matter if something goes wrong because it's not like anything can be done.
Cause that's what everybody says.
But you can't possibly let a poor kid miserable for 13 years.
That's not right.
That's not right at all.

I'm mad at myself for not talking to people who wonder why 'I can't talk'.

It's not fair.

It's not like I can help it.

And I'll never be able to talk to those people ever again.

Which makes me sad and angry at the same time.

I have something to say...

My name is Amber Marie Colón and I live in Oswego, IL... and I have something to say. I have been ‘diagnosed’ with Selective Mutism since 4 years old, but I hate calling it SM… because it’s not really selective... So basically, I’ve always been ‘that girl who doesn’t or can’t talk’. Even putting it out there in this big bad world is way too brave for someone like me.

I can’t meet people that I want to. I can’t make new friends and I can’t try new things half the time. I can’t achieve some of the things that I want to do.

There are things that people expect and need you to do. And there are things that you know and have to do… and for some reason I just can’t.

I don’t choose to be this way. I don’t want to be this way. There’s no way I can prevent being this way.

It’s embarrassing to be trying to talk to someone and you’re just getting attacked with questions that sound so stupid to only you. You just stand there, either smiling fakely or completely stone faced, most of the time I can’t even make eye contact, feeling the sadness and anger creep up inside you even more. It feels like it’s literally eating you alive sometimes.

“Why can’t you talk?”, “She doesn’t talk, just don’t talk to her.”, “Just say one word!”, “She’s the girl who can’t talk.”, “Fine! …DON’T talk to me!” --I hear those phrases almost everyday… and it hurts because there is so many people telling you things they expect you to do and telling you to heal and get better overnight. I can’t. I won’t, because it hurts even more remembering how it felt to shut down the last time… and the time before that.

I know that I need help to get a little better eventually. I know it’ll take a whole lot more than just ‘sucking it up’ everyday. I know people want to talk to me and I want to talk to them. Luckily I have friends who have actually stepped up to the plate and take strikes like I have to, too. Those are real friends.

Maybe I’m asking for too much. Maybe all of this is a stupid dream that I’ll wake up from one day. Maybe all I really need to do is give up and deal with it? Maybe I just have to keep trying and not give up?

It’s just that all I ever really wanted and all I’ll ever ask of anyone is for people to know and understand.

I hate when people laugh at me for something I don’t even have control over. I hate when people ask me questions when I ‘can’t talk’ anyways. I hate when someone drags me back down again because I know I have to try even harder than the first time the next time. I hate when people think I’m mean or rude or stuck up because I ‘don’t talk’. I hate that people don’t talk to me because of that. I hate that the only reason I could be well known in my school is because I can’t say one word to anyone. I have a lot of things to hate.

I always wonder if I’m even here for a good reason. I always wonder why it has to be me and not someone else. I always wonder how my life would be different if I was “okay”. I always wonder if my life would be worse or better without “Selective Mutism”.  But that’s okay… because without being quiet all the time I probably would be stuck up and mean like people think I am.

It’s actually kind of sad that I have to do this… because even with all the research and things out there you can’t get a good story like mine. Doctors don’t know anything. They aren’t me. They can’t say that I have a rare disorder that starts in childhood because I DON’T. No one will ever know what’s really going on without me. I can understand how hundreds of other kids out there feel. Not doctors. They are there for the money. We should ALL know that by now.

I wish people would know how I feel. And I know nobody ever will, and kids like me could be suffering even more than me. That kills me more than anything. It sucks knowing that, too.

 It’s like breaking down a brick wall over a long period of time. And it hurts you and you have to take breaks. And you have to get back up again and try even if you end up breaking your back, because you have to get it done to make yourself and others feel better and accomplished.

This probably won’t work at all, but I at least want to have the pride of trying… because it’s not like I’ve ever succeeded in anything really important to me anyways.

Happy Halloween?

"Through the wind and the rain she stand hard as a stone through a world that she can't rise above.. But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved... Concrete angel.."

I like that song. I'm sorry. :)

Soo... I'm probably not gonna go Trick Or Treating this year. BECAUSE.. Last year I had bad experiences with adults forcing me to talk (you know who you are..or at least WILL know..) AND because I just don't feel like it... I can't see myself going house to house asking for candy. I'd rather stay home watching those un-scary kids movies on Disney Channel or something. Hahaa.


So I don't have much to blog about. I'm a very boring person besides what everyone else says which is a LIE. I am not fun to talk to!! I know I wouldn't want to talk to me... Ick.

No One Quite Gets It Yet, Huh?

So, I haven't blogged in a few. Days. I came up with a good 'connection' or 'analogy' to feel (almost exactly, maybe, I don't know, I'm not YOU or THEM...) how us SM diagnosed kids feel.

Imagine your just hanging out with a bunch of friends and someone ticks someone off, and pulls out his or her gun. You're thinking, "Oh my God, please, no!" He or she shoves it into your hands and says, "Come on, just do it! ... It's easy! ... Anyone can do that! ... You idiot! Are you retarded or something?! DO IT!!"

But you just can't.

Maybe that didn't make any sense to you. Maybe it just confused you. Think about it.

Onto a different matter, we most likely all know someone with a mental or physical disability.

What about emotional-ish disabilities? Those kinds of things can haunt you forever.

It sickens me, "How strange it is that people of honest feelings and sensibility, who would not take advantage of a man born without arms or legs or eyes-- How such people think nothing of abusing a man born with low intelligence."

In my case it's no voice.

You're probably thinking, "Holy cow there's something terribly wrong with this girl! or WHAT AN IDIOT. or How sad."

Maybe none of those. Just don't FEEL bad for me.

Flowers for Algernon.

I'm depressed, but happy at the same time that I found my Martina McBride (Concrete Angel) poster. Ha. I can put it up on my Paramore dominated walls. :)

We're reading this story called "Flowers for Algernon" by Daniel Keyes in Language Arts. I think Charlie Gordon killed himself at the end. Because if you foreshadow on the part where he says "It's hard to throw off thoughts of suicide", it is kind of obvious to me. THAT'S why I'm depressed and sad. Like that one time I looked over a CD of my cousins favorite band. My Chemical Romance. Now THAT is depressing.

Anyways, the reason I brought up that story is because in one part Charlie says he feels.... ''more alone than ever". He has a mental issue where he can't learn as well as other people so he's basically 'dumb'. And he gets a surgery to help him be smart. And he gets too smart. So smart he loses the people he thought were his friends and his job, too.

I feel bad for him. Even though he's most likely not real. And he doesn't want people to feel bad for him.

COUGH COUGH.

"Black boot. Black cat. Black car. BLACK EYE."

I don't know what to write about today.... I noticed that having SM is kind of a blessing, in a way. A neutral way, not good or bad. Just in between. Just riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Like Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

My friend Heidi from Facebook just made a good point. (Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D ) She has SM too. People ask us things everyday about ''how quiet we are'' and things like that. It ain't like we can tell them... Dur. I'm random. Apparently. In some sort of good way.

I'm thinking of other ways to express my anger over selective mutism awareness and stuff. Why do I know only one person who has it? Isn't the commonness like 1 in every 146 or something? So at least 3-4 kids at my school have it. That includes me, so.... ? THAT'S FAIR, NOT TELLING ANYONE ELSE. I'd rather have the whole world know. Well kind of.

What REALLY makes me feel left out, all the time, is when a teacher asks me in front of the entire class, "Amber, are you sure you are comfortable and BLAH BLAH BLAH?!?!"

"Get a life," I feel like saying.

[Enter Bored Here]

Today was okay. I'm just still a little bit angry about that doctor dude last night. Some doctor, huh? I'm choosing not to say anything about him on here because I'm nice like that(:
So anyways... I'm bored, and my mom said I should try and do this blogging thing everyday. To help people with what I have, too. Selective mutism. It sucks, and ew, my mom just gave me really terrible tasting gum. Anyways... I don't know. I really don't ever have much to say. Hmm.... Grr!

This stupid "What's on your mind?" on Facebook is killing me. I want to reply back to it and say "WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND?!?!?!?!"

We all live in a yellow submarine.

A yellow submarine.

Something just popped into my mind. I've been working on portraits of Luke Benward from a ton of movies and stuff.... and Hayley Williams from Paramore for the past three or four days. Scary right? They're actually pretty good, too. The only problem is that I can't get their eyeballs and mouths right. Roar.

I found out they're both from Franklin, Tennessee and both have green eyes. Haha. I would know that.

GUESS WHAT?
Who cares. I'm bored, and I want to not think about green eyed people and selective mutism for awhile.

Green Eyes.

Tuesday, October 10th, 2009

I am angry. Dealing with selective mutism is not fun at all. Nobody will ever understand how much pain and frustration and sadness... And don't forget hurt... That I have to go through and think about every single day of my life.
"Hang in there moms and dads, you are not alone!" I wonder who else is not alone...

I feel and sound very fancy today, just saying.