Why don't you talk?

As I approached the age of about ten, I had been operating on a set of rules for myself. These rules were rigid, and essential, in order to survive in the social world. I added to my list of rules over the years approaching high school age. By then, I had a pretty solid 'list' in place.

Although, I don't think I was consciously aware I was gathering and arranging a set of rules at the time, I was clearly seeking to minimize the immense discomfort I experienced socially. It makes me sad to think of that small child, so desperate to ease the pain of daily life that she had to be so vigilant and adhere so strictly to a modus operandi. I suspect most children do this to a degree as they navigate their social worlds. For me, it was critical. It was the only means I had of getting by. My rules provided a sense of security and I became reliant on them.

The rules I made were based not only on place (mainly school) but also on the people I could or couldn't interact with, or be near. Situation or activity was also an important element in my rule formation. All three could be interconnected at times.

My rules were not simple in nature. They were complex and had associated caveats. I will do my best to describe the rules that I formed and how they manifested and played out in my world.

School was THE place where I had to be hyper vigilant. I learned this early on. I can't pin point the day or moment that I declared to myself rule number one (no talking at this place). I suspect I just followed basic logic. I couldn't talk. Children were asking me to talk or asking me why I didn't talk and I couldn't deal with that so naturally I would just not respond - at all - ever! It makes sense to me that perhaps I was simply avoiding the pain and discomfort of being placed in an impossible situation that I would just, instead, opt out altogether. Sadly, aside from the impact that this solution would go on to have on my schooling experience,it created a new dilemma. Having adopted the identity as the 'girl who doesn't talk', I now had to defend and preserve it. I now had to be very careful to follow through with it. I had to remain mute. Otherwise I would be considered a fraud and a fake. No one wants to be dealt that label.

Although school sat in the 'MUST NOT TALK' zone, there were exceptions to this, rendering the rule, null and void. Typically, for example, when mum took my sisters and me to the school playground on the weekend and no one else was around, I would be able to talk freely.

Conversely, home, although it sat in the 'SAFE TO TALK' zone, could quickly become THE place of 'MUST NOT TALK (until safe to do so)'. For example, when my friend Mari (the only person I could talk to at school) decided to bring along a couple of other girls from class to my home. I could talk okay with just Mari, both at school and at home. But having the extras there were under the 'I AM A NON TALKER WITH THESE PEOPLE' rule.

When my younger sisters would bring friends home, this was usually fine. I could talk, because they were not in my class or year and so they didn't know I was 'the girl who doesn't talk' and so I could just be me. However, it could get complex. If they had a sibling who was in my class, I would need to consider very carefully which way to go. I was safer to just be quiet around them in case they discussed me. 'What Jania talked? Why doesn't she talk to me?......'. I had to maintain the character I had adopted.

Other places, like the shopping mall, I needed to be cautious. Once or twice I recall being horrified to discover that a class mate had been lurking nearby and had over heard me being silly and loud with my mum or sisters. I learned to scan my surroundings before really cutting loose in future. But sometimes I would slip up and gasp, dreading what this would mean. Would this person go and tell everyone I was a fake? Would there be more questions and comments directed at me? 'You were really loud...you are funny....I couldn't believe what I saw.....hey guess what everyone....' I did not want to be the topic of conversation and I didn't want to shock anyone. I couldn't explain to them why I had to be two people, I just had to.

Strangers, I have always been better with. People who had no idea of my mute identity were safe people. Mum and dad would take us to a friend's place for a barbecue and I would mingle with kids, often before my sisters did. These kids were unaware of the mute me and so I could just be me. Of course, a school kid turning up would ruin everything and I would retreat to sit with my parents and spectate instead.

I tried to jump in and be 'a talker' , a normal talker, straight away, as soon as I met someone new, in order to avoid potential for anyone to suspect me. My reasoning was; I must start out this way, then the person/people will think that I am just normal like them, and they will never have a clue that I have this problem....and their being unaware will be good for me because I won't feel weird, they won't ask me questions I can't answer and I will be able to keep being a talker (with them). I tried this at school when new kids arrived but it was difficult to sustain. The cat would be out of the bag pretty quickly, the word would get around, then naturally I would become mute around them too. I had to be quick as well as keep them away from everyone else in my class. It was impossible. </p>

I hated people joking about my quietness. Adults' remarks like 'the rowdy one there'. As soon as I became aware that people were on to me I shut down operations. I felt sad and hurt many times. I would be feeling a real bond developing with someone, exchanging facial expressions, communicating in other ways only to be slapped in the face when they commented about me (whether intended to hurt or not). I felt cheated. I couldn't trust many people.

It was tragic. I loved people. I loved animated, fun people. I wanted so much to spend time with them but I couldn't. I couldn't spend time with popular people, who, in my experience were usually really nice. I couldn't run the risk of being part of a group with the spotlight on them. I couldn't run the risk of talking to someone who always wants more than one in the conversation, who draws a crowd. I realized I had to select people who were going to ensure I could sustain my safety. They typically would need to be; unpopular, a talker, but not a talker that everyone wanted to be around, they needed to be able to look outwardly, not worry about me, not focus on my quietness, live in an external way, not a deep thinker, a live in the moment type. Occasionally I ended up with the person who the rest of the school rejected. The weird one, the funny but annoying and exhausting one. This was okay by me. I could tolerate alot. As long as they didn't focus on me and my quietness or draw attention to it I could endure it.

There were situations that I had strict rules for. I missed out on many experiences by following them. For example, despite an overwhelming urge to join in a drama class, I couldn't. It required talking. I could have mimed okay. I could have expressed myself as a particular character. I would have enjoyed the challenge. But it was a NO GO ZONE. Then there was Physical Education and sports days. I loved being active, running and I had good co-ordination and skills but I was limited in expressing this, or being involved. Tennis was fine, one on one, no talking required. I would have loved to play netball or baseball but the fact that I would need to call for the ball made this a NO GO ZONE. I wanted to be able to share my morning news with the kids. Sometimes my family had been out and done something special and yet I couldn't share it with them. I wanted to show the teacher that I could read well, but this required reading out loud. I wanted to show everyone that I understood or had worked out the solution to a problem that was still puzzling them, but I couldn't.

I loved singing, and I loved the fact that my school provided an over the loud speaker music program, where the whole class would sing along to songs. I could do this. This was okay because everyone else was singing at once. I could adjust my volume accordingly so as to ensure I wasn't too loud.

All of these rules must have been exhausting for a child. Never being able to relax and just enjoy the situation, place or people and see how things play out. To always be thinking, preparing and considering every move. Down to the minutest detail. For example, I wouldn't alter my appearance too much, do anything too drastic because that will prompt interest, invite comments that I couldn't deal with.

The rules that guided me through childhood and adolescence are still there. They have had some modifications, alterations and amendments over the years but they are still relevant. I still find myself automatically responding to situations according to my rules. They must have become quite ingrained in my psyche. But generally I talk these days, still pretty much only when I have to, but you kind of have to I have found, to get by in an adult world. My selective mutism has stayed with me into adulthood. I don't think it is ever going away completely. I feel it is part of me, and although inconvenient and frustrating at times, I have accepted it to a degree. I see it as the down side of being a highly sensitive and thoughtful human specimen. At 49, I am more interested in nurturing an acceptance of myself as I am, the whole complex, faulty, unique, beautiful process that makes me me.