I was born in 2005, the year that Pope John Paul II died, and a new pope was proclaimed. The Benedict in my name was given to me by my grand uncle, who happens to be a priest, in honor of the new pope and my mom likes it too. For my family on my mother's side, I will always be Benedict but because of some circumstances I became Ghay.
My life is as normal as it could be. Eat, sleep, play, eat. In between, there's school, tutors, and more lessons. Giving grief to my parents. Sassing my Nanay Merna. Making my Mama Ging Ging (my aunt) exasperated and being an all-around pain in the butt. Of course, I couldn't always get away with all these especially since my mom is always around to give me the "MOM LOOK". In all of this is the underlying events and chapter of my life. That I am somewhat compensating for all the years that I can't even utter a simple sentence. I still have a hard time talking because my mind is processing at a different level to the time that I should be expressing my thoughts through talking. All this I must get through daily to have a semblance of normality.
I was barely two years old when I was diagnosed with severe speech delay. From then on, my parents accepted the fact that they must invest all they've got (efforts and all) on me to ensure that I could have a future. I could only imagine what my parents went through. The emotional upheaval not to mention the financial aspect that they must endure. I know it is hard for my parents and yet they do and go to extraordinary lengths to ensure that I could have the necessary help that I could get. I got the right doctors and the right therapist to look after me. I became Ghay for the simple reason that I need to use the truncated version of my name because of the need to catch up on my speech fast. It was also decided that English would be my primary language because of my speech delay. Years on, I am here, still doing the things that I'm supposed to do. Getting there and still learning.
From the moment I was diagnosed, my life revolves around my therapy sessions. Everything must fit according to my therapy schedules. Events and vacations had to be coordinated. When I started school, my therapist and doctors suggested that I should be in a progressive school and not in a traditional school. I still don't know if I missed out something for not going to traditional school during my early years. My speech pathologist is with me since the beginning of my journey. He is still my therapist and yes, I still need him to improve my speech. Throughout the years, I also undergo occupational therapy because I became an introvert (effects of having speech delay) and doesn't socialize much. I hate socializing and I would sometimes suffer from anxiety. That's why online school is much easier for me.
Going to school is another level. I'm still struggling to speak. I could barely speak for that matter. I could still vividly remember a time when I was asked to say my name in full in front of an audience. It was terrifying for me. But then, I get used to it. School became part of my routine. I thrived. I found out that I love some of the activities. That I love doing math. I excel in it. I even got an award out of it. Until now, math is still my strong point. I understand it better than any all my subjects.
Having speech delay is my norm. Now I'm in junior high, doing better and coping. English is my primary language, and my Tagalog is barely existing. Unlike before, I only go to my therapist now every Saturday. With my doctors, from every 3 months to once a year. I'm on my way to gaining my freedom.
So, this is me. My Life in Speech Delay.
