I would like to start by introducing myself, I am a 37-year-old single mum with two daughters, one of whom is Dyslexic with the added problem of tinitus as a result of surgery for her glue ear, both my daughters are of above average intelligence. I have decided to leave my spelling errors in to show you just how difficult it can be to get it right! I was also born with Glue ear and underwent the same surgery as my daughter, if I had known that the ringing, buzzing and whistling in my ears was not normal I would have looked for other methods of treating my own child's glue ear!

During my school life I was branded as an 'inattentive and lazy' pupil who regularly failed to complete and hand in any homework, although I was given special treatment and allowances due to my hearing difficulties. I remember my mother trying to teach me the alphabet. She put a Rolo chocolate in front of the letters to encourage me to remember the difference between g and j or b and d. How I wanted that Rolo but I never got it, on each attempt I would get a different set wrong until mum lost her temper and gave up.

My earliest memory of school was a good one in that I was in the top class for reading in my infant school. I can clearly remember being in the heads office with several other exceptional readers, every week, and being told how well I was doing. This proved to be short lived as I underwent the first of five surgeries for my hearing problems. There was no such thing as hospital teaching back then so I was left for a week without any reading material and no parents visiting to bring me any, by the time I was allowed to return to school, some 2 weeks later, I couldn't read a word! So the stage was set for the next 30 years of my life.

My decline in the academic ranks, so to speak was put down to me not trying or as was on my school reports: "Due to Mandy's handicap, her hearing difficulties, My hearing problems were to blame and of course my lazy nature. My parents were less than sympathetic as they had two other children one of whom went to Grammar School, they were quite happy to believe that I was indeed a lazy child and told me more than once that I should put more effort in!!

Imagine trying to learn another language that was written backward. On the good days it actually turned itself around so at least I could tell that there were letters in front of me. Going to bed every night I would pray that I would die in my sleep and this awful nightmare would be over. I spent many hours on my English trying to make it better only to realise when I got to Secondary level I couldn't do math either! I would sit in a math lesson some days and it all made sense, the relief and elation I felt was incredible. By the time I'd enjoyed that feeling, a fraction of a second usually, it would all be gone. I'd look at that same piece of work I'd understood only a fleeting moment ago, and once again return to that pit of despair with a renewed sense of panic and nausea as I realised the door of understanding had closed once more! The fear of 'being in trouble' again would only make matters worse, this fear still lives with me as an adult in EVERYTHING I do.

On more than one occasion I was sent to the school nurse because my teacher had heard me groan and seen the colour drain from my face. I left School with a single grade 1 and several grade 2 CSE's even in English but only managed a grade 5 in Math, probably for spelling my name right on the paper! I decided to go to college and become a chef. This proved to be far more difficult than I could ever have imagined, not only did I have math on a daily basis, recipes are full of numbers, but I was presented with all my recipes in French not English! I managed by looking at the number on the recipe then looking for it on the scales, this did not help with things like 4 eggs, 6 leeks etc, they became things I would watch the other students get and copy them with a prayer through in for good measure. Over my two year course I began to read numbers up to 1000 (one thousand) but no higher, that still stands today. I now know this improvement was probably due to the repetitive nature of the work we did, plus I was less anxious about it all as I didn't have to do a lot of writing.

Upon completion of college I managed to walk away with 4 City and Guilds qualifications, one of which was of the higher level. I worked for a year at a Teacher training college where my ability to create meals without the use of scales and recipes was not appreciated. I was constantly subjected to abuse from the head cook, as she would spend most of her shift asking everyone who the hell did I think I was some smart arse? How could I tell this woman I found reading numbers almost impossible? Keeping more than 1 number in my head was asking for a miracle. I'm sure one of the supervisor's realised I had a problem but was not prepared to say anything in case I lost my job. My need to protect my dwindling self esteem only gave them more reason to criticise and harass me, yet even at this point in my life I didn't know why things were so difficult.

My Handicapped label stayed with me and caused a great rift between myself and my family, my feelings of isolation and loneliness grew ever more difficult to deal with. I felt I belonged nowhere and with no one, totally alone and worthless, my sister was doing her A level's and going to University. My brother had done better than me with his CSE's. I cannot explain to you how it feels to be left out, like your are on the outside looking in, you don't always understand what is going on because you've forgotten or can't follow what is being said. You become invisible so to cope with all the feelings that go with that you develop ways of surviving, being brave and hard hearted. I'm known in the family as The Great Survivor, Mandy always copes' no matter what life throws at her!

I worked for a year at the college; it was as long as I could cope with. From there I joined the WRAF as a policewoman. I was found out and my catering qualifications uncovered so to speak, I was then told I would be a chef once more, as they needed good cooks! Little did they know, I was devastated. I adored basic training and asked if I could do WRAF Admin, recruit training, instead of being a cook? Not a chance!

I began to realise something about my intelligence level during my military exams; it was higher than everybody else's. I now know that was because most of my exams were oral and I really enjoyed the subjects we had to learn. For the first time in my life people were asking ME to help them with their revision! The only time I didn't get 100% on my exams was when I had to write the answers down. One of my trainers told me I had a problem with written language only he couldn't remember the name of it. He advised me to stay with the catering as I didn't have to do too much writing, but if I did WRAF Admin I would have to write everyday all day. My RAF career went down hill from that point on, I suffered the same sort of abuse from my fellow cooks there as I had in Civi Street. The favourite of one cook was to tell me I wasn't a clever as I thought I was, when my recipes failed and he wanted to know how much of each ingredient I'd put into a dish? I couldn't tell him I didn't have a clue because I couldn't read the instructions for proportions on the packets. I lasted a year again, got married and pregnant all on the same day. I lost the babies at 3 months whilst my husband was in Central America, twins. We were both devastated my old feelings of failure returned with vengeance.

I had to give 30 days notice to leave the RAF, which I did. In those 30 days I was sent to the local hospital 8 times with other girls who were pregnant and had done things to get rid of the baby. I was expected to counsel them and see if they were suicidal!! That old feeling of isolation and failure grew ever stronger every day, not that anyone but my husband knew, my mothers answered to my miscarriage was it was for the best as she was too young at 46, to be a grandmother. I spent the next 6 years married, eventually having 2 children who have survived, in all I conceived 12 children. The brave face was always there to hide my pain and feeling of total humiliation. I would be pregnant at the same time as women who had been in the same boat as us, each time I would be the one who lost her children and they kept theirs only to give birth on my due dates! This killed my self-esteem dead, not that anyone noticed; I had to protect myself at all times even with my husband. My marriage ended in divorce after 7 years, I left him with his gambling and all the problems that go with it.

It took me the next 2 years to gain enough confidence to go out of my house and do things on my own. I rarely took the children to playgroup or mother and toddlers, as I couldn't face people wanting to know what had gone wrong in my marriage and why I'd run away from such a small problem? I started working as a childminder, which gave me the opportunity to stay at home with my own children and gain a little independence and control over our lives. This worked well for 10 years and my business flourished. I gained a reputation for being able to handle the learning difficulty children, the ones who had behavioural problems or even in some cases the victims of abusive parents. My tough exterior was paying off and nobody questioned it, they were just glad that I didn't appear to show any fear in difficult situations. How little they or I understood what was going on, the failure was still in there even when I got patted on the back or people came to ask my advice and took it, after all wasn't I just a fake?

An old friend persuaded me to join her in a night class to learn how to type; this was the experience that blew my world apart. There was no where to hide, all my errors were there in black ink for the all world to see, except of course ME! I had to face the reality of my problem for whatever reason I couldn't type what was on the paper. My tutor soon realised what my problem was and gave it a name at last!! She helped me find ways to remember the spellings, grammar and holding enough information so that I didn't need to keep checking where my fingers had got to. I passed my Stage I typing with a distinction.

I went back the following autumn and enrolled in her word processing class, this was my element for the first time in my living memory I could remember everything from 1 class to another and even find my own errors. I wasn't stupid or thick or lazy I was just DYSLEXIC, as long as I was highly interested in a subject it seemed to stay in my head and became very simple. So simple sometimes that I don't believe I've done it right because life's not that easy for me, only everyone else! I passed with distinction levels II and I but III was just too much I couldn't pass it to save my life and believe me I tried many times.

I moved house 4 years ago and started college to do Computer literacy courses, on my own with no friend to go with. I really thought that this time things would be different because the course sounded so complicated and I really didn't think I'd manage it that feeling in the pit of my stomach was back and I was a teenager again. How wrong I was, I completed levels I and II in only 1 year not the normal 2 and added a couple of other classes to my work load just to keep me busy. I was and still am hungry for more courses and information about computers and how they work, maybe a technicians course next time?

I still don't have a career but know it's not for the want of trying. I have worked as an Administrator for 3 months, not just word processing and handling customers but dealing with their accounts too! I keep my hand in between jobs by training people to use their own computers at home, this seems to be going well, and it pays the mortgage. I just have to get that little voice of self-loathing and fear under control before I go as my fear of "Being in trouble" does take it's toll, especially when it comes to spreadsheets. I have learned through my own suffering that contrary to what I believed, I'm not mad or stupid or a manic depressive, my feelings and opinions are just as valid as anyone else's. I now need to show my daughter that life is good and does get better even when you have Dyslexia. The hard exterior is still there but its not a mask anymore I use it to help my children through their schooling. I do my homework before I take on any of the staff regarding the problems my children are having. I don't want my children to feel the isolation and loneliness that I did as a child. I want them to know that everyone matters for real, not just on paper and that 1 person alone can make a difference, that person can be them if they so choose! I only wish I could have found out earlier, about my Dyslexia, maybe then I wouldn't have suffered so much mental torment for so long, I'd have cried less tears for the life I've lost through no fault of my own. The loss of my children may have been easier to deal with, I don't know all I know is that I came to expect failure in everything I did and sometimes still do. When everyone