Important anniversary

Well, perhaps not that important. And I missed it, anyway, proving 'Inside a Blank Mind' is an apt title. This blog is now precisely two years and one week old. Happy birthday!

Dyspraxia Documentary and Janet Taylor

Last year I watched Kara Tointon: Don't Call Me Stupid and for the first time felt I understood dyslexia. It was a brilliant documentary and I've since watched it again. But it also made me angry. Dyslexia is a difficult condition for those who have it and it does deserve recognition but there are other conditions out there that even doctors haven't heard of. In a nutshell: I was suffering a little neuro-diverse jealousy.

To be serious, though, dyspraxia is just as hard on sufferers as dyslexia yet few people have heard of it and those who have often only have a cursory knowledge of the condition. I'm only one woman and can't search absolutely everywhere but so far if there is a documentary out there on dyspraxia, it's hiding itself very well. So I decided to make one.

Today felt like my first proper day of filming. I've done personal pieces to camera in recent weeks and one or two last year when I first thought of doing the documentary, but today I actually went out to Salford with a sound guy (thank you, Will) and interviewed Janet Taylor, a remarkable lady who not only lives with dyspraxia, but also set up and co-ordinates the Manchester Neuro-diversity Action group, which helps adults with dyspraxia and other associated conditions.

Janet is a real inspiration: though this condition adversely affects co-ordination, organisation, memory and a host of other things most people take for granted, Janet has been a teacher, carer, support-group founder (see above), fundraiser and a chair of DANDA, a London-based organisation aimed at supporting adults with neurological conditions. She set up MANA in October 2000 as part of a project within the Dyspraxia Foundation before breaking away as an independent group around five years ago. She has run the group for a decade but admits she only set it up to prove that she wasn't useless. I think it's fairly safe to say she's done that incredibly well.

WEDDING WORRIES

As a woman who has been planning her wedding in her head since the age of about three, I honestly thought planning it in real life was going to be a lot easier than this. What the heck are wedding favours? Your nearest and dearest (and odd family members your Mum makes you invite to be polite) come to your do, eat posh food you've saved up for and generally have a great time and you're supposed to have little bag of chocolate next to their plate to take home? Is this to say thank you for coming? Or thank you for the lovely toaster? Why call them favours then? They're not favours. They are a measly bag of peppermint creams shaped like love hearts in a weird high-brow game of swapsies where you come away with a statue of Elvis from Debenhams.

In this day and age is there really any point to wedding presents? Most people getting married are already kitted out with the necessities for running a household. I remember when my friend Jess got married and I couldn't think for the life of me what to get her so I bought a photo frame. Original. And several companies are offering the wedding list service now, where the lady and gentleman pick their own presents and invite their guests to pay for them.

Do not get me started on gowns. I've been in so many shops I could probably start a bridal boutique from memory. And not one of the meringue monstrosities was worth the effort. I've even tried some on and to be fair, I did feel quite special and pleased with myself, but most wedding dresses are near enough the same as each other and I left school a long time ago so have no wish to go back to wearing a uniform.

And for some reason everyone and his dog has an opinion on weddings. I've been advised that I need to pick a dress I can pass on to my daughter for when she gets married (assuming one day I have a daughter), and accused of not wanting to "do it properly" because I wasn't looking at really expensive dresses. My favourite colour is bad luck for weddings. My favourite dress design won't suit me. I can't get married in winter because no-one will want to come. A religious ceremony will be too awkward. A religious ceremony is the only way to get married. Veil. Tiara. Veil and Tiara. Fascinator. Don't wear jewellery on your wedding day that costs less than £50. Wait till nearer the time to buy everything. Buy what I can little by little along the way to make it more affordable.

The most important day of my life may well be taking more important days off the end of my life!

It never rains but it pours

Most people will be aware of this phrase, and most people will have experience of its veracity. In many ways this is what it's like to be a dyspraxic . At least, that's what it's like for me to be dyspraxic. For other people the everyday tasks and those extra occasional worries are like rain. When it rains you open your umbrella or put your hood up and run for cover. For this dyspraxic the everyday tasks and occasional extras are like a downpour: by the time I've got my brolly up I'm already soaked.

I've a dyspraxic friend who can't use a kettle unless it's her own. Most people would think a kettle is a kettle; there may be slight variations but they're near enough all the same. I don't have any problem with kettles. I have a problem with phones. Unless it's my phone I panic if I have to use one. To be perfectly honest I don't like to use any phone unless absolutely necessary. I feel uncomfortable having to hold something up in order to talk to a person. It's two things to concentrate on: holding the phone and taking in what's being said. That's not something I do well.

It's frustrating being dyspraxic in a world where hidden disability is accepted but only superficially. Everybody has heard about dyslexia and has an opinion. Celebrities are trotted out on TV documentaries admitting their difficulty. My GP had only a vague idea of what dyspraxia might be: "That's to do with your spacial awareness, isn't it?" There are only three support groups (last I heard) in all of Britain for dyspraxia sufferers and two are in the northwest of England. And the thing with dyspraxia is that if the main organiser is unable to arrange a meeting, disorganised dyspraxics can't organise their own!

I wish I could make people understand what it's like in my head. It might look like procrastination. It might seem not to make sense that I'm great at one thing and absolutely pitiful at something so similar I ought to be able to do that as well. I wish I could give my brain to someone else for a day and let them see that my blog is called Inside A Blank Mind because that's what my mind is like sometimes.