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#communication difficulties

spooksforsammy · 1 month

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The idea that aac fixes everything for everyone is kinda annoying. Because most nonverbal nonspeaking semiverbal people’s speech problems root further from just verbal voice.

Not understanding have right communicate. Not understanding how work. Not understanding how to say what feel or want or think. Not understanding certain words or phrases so say one thing and mean another. Many have speech or communication disorders, it’s not just the inability to speak, aac won’t fix everything for everyone.

Even if some get aac, an option to communicate, they just can’t. Sometimes no matter how much want to, just can’t.

#speech4amy #actually autistic #autism #aac user #part time aac user #semiverbal #communication difficulties #disabled poc

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genderdoe-sly · 6 months

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because autistics are different from each other, some of us can understand cues or subtext in conversation that others can't. What's more, some studies show that autistics are better at talking to other autistics than with allistics.

To be clear, I am not saying that I am better than other people at understanding subtext, but that I want to make a place to do it together.

#autistic #autistics #autism #social anxiety #allistics #communication #socializing #polls #communication difficulties

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zebulontheplanet · 8 months

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Hello , I really like your blog and I hope you don't mind if I ask, how do you deal with people intentionally misinterpreting what you say because of communication differences? I am being open about some of my disabilities on a blog for the first time and already , there are people block evading me to demand I answer all their questions . I have seen you deal with similar things and wondering if you have any experience?

Honestly, I get very very angry. One of my posts actually got a lot of people commenting on it and not understanding what I meant. It’s very annoying and I wish there wasn’t a communication difference.

The best way I deal with it is not being afraid to block people if they get angry or nasty about it. Sometimes, it’s just better to block someone and go on with your day then to use all your spoons trying to defuse a situation. Sometimes, people are just nasty, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change that.

I’ve had several experiences where people have misinterpreted what I say, and sometimes I take the time to defuse the situation, but usually there’s nothing I can do. Once people have their opinion about you, they have their opinion.

Anger is how I deal with it, and I’ve learned that it’s ok to be angry. Sometimes, I take the time and make another post explaining more in depth what I meant with the help of others, but you don’t need to do that.

Honestly, just do your best and don’t let anyone bring you down. Also, take a break if you need too. Tumblr isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes people are just rude.

#long post #communication difficulties #hope this helps!#anger

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outstanding-quotes · 2 years

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For emotionally immature people, all interactions boil down to the question of whether they’re good people or bad ones, which explains their extreme defensiveness if you try to talk to them about something they did.

Lindsay C. Gibson, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents

#lindsay c gibson #adult children of emotionally immature parents #psychology #emotional maturity #emotional immaturity #good vs bad #insecurity #defensive #communication #misunderstanding #communication difficulties #guilt #defensiveness #this really made the reasons why people get so angry if you tell them something they did was hurtful click in my head

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tevvyline · 7 days

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Asking questions while a person is not paying attention to you.

I have noticed that sometimes person 1 asks a question for person 2 to answer, but person 2 is not paying attention. This results in person 2 not hearing the full question and either giving an answer based on the parts that they heard or asking for the whole question again. For me personally, I always ask for the full question again because I want to make sure I am saying the right answer to the right question. I sometimes want to ask a question to a person, but I don't know how to get the attention of the person. Recently, I have discovered that one way to get the attention of a person is by starting a conversation with them. An easy way to start a conversation is saying "hi". You can then wait for the person to respond with something and say your question after their response. You can also start a conversation with actions such as going near a person and staring at them. If they notice you, they may think that you are waiting to say something to them and start paying attention to you. They may look at you or say something like "what do you want to say to me?" to show that they are paying attention. With this information that I have discovered, I have found out that my mistake was not starting a conversation before asking a question. You can still ask a question without starting a conversation, but there is a possibility that the person will not be paying attention.

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lattewithatwistoflemon · 1 year

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I’ve been reading random X-Men comics that I found at the library in no particular order. I had never seen this man -Cloak- before, but he made a really big first impression on me. I love his design, at least by this particular artist. He has the vibe of the strong, silent type that I see a lot, especially in manga. But the thing that stood out to me immediately was the way he talks. In a manga, it’s normal to see people pause and think about what they’re going to say next. But in that case, there will be breaks where the next part of the sentence is in the next word balloon or even the next panel. This is different. This isn’t something I usually see in American comics. I could tell that this was very intentional. That the character was specifically talking in a methodical way, as though having trouble getting the words out. And I’m really glad I picked up on it quickly. Because it turns out it’s a big part of his character. I wondered if he had some sort of disability, so I immediately found his Wikipedia page and read that he had a chronic stutter. He had a best friend who tried to help him fix it, but one day, due to his inability to articulate to call for help, his friend was murdered. This hit me particularly hard, because I’ve always had trouble with communication. I especially have a hard time raising my voice when the need arises. When I got into an accident years ago, I tried to get the attention of the police officers across the street, but my voice wouldn’t come out, especially since I was nervous. I couldn’t yell for them to hear me. So I have this huge fear of not being able to speak up during a dire moment, and I’m terrified that something horrible could happen because of it. So seeing a character like this… is very sad in a relatable way. But it’s also beautiful to see the way his dialogue is written, and how had he trains himself to talk meticulously, so that something like that doesn’t happen again. It creates this beautiful, vulnerable element to this character that otherwise looks strong and maybe even intimidating with his grim reaper cloak. It makes him feel very human and warm. I hope to find more media of this man.

#x-men #xmen #marvel comics #tyrone johnson #cloak #cloak and dagger #disabled characters #stuttering #communication difficulties #beautiful characters #relatable characters #speech disorder

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selectivechaos · 1 year

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vulnerable. my sm feels like too much vulnerability. too expressive. too much

i wish proponents of a purely social model of disability would realise that there are cognitive factors. not just a communication ‘difference’; is mental illness; and is disability🌹🌹

#selective mutism #situational mutism #communication difficulties #actually socially anxious #social anxiety disorder #social anxitey #sm tag

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sexualrevoluti0n · 1 year

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I'm feeling so relieved and so much calmer and less anxious after actually seeing and talking to my partner and understanding what page we're both on and what we want to do to move forward. Having it clarified and seeing and hearing him has helped so much and I'm able to know what the actual situation is instead of the bullshit my brain has been making up.

I'm someone who needs to talk through things to with things out, and if others don't want to it's easy for me to read that as them either not being invested or not caring, and it's helpful to be reminded that other people don't ask work in the same way as me, and that some people actually do need space and time away to process rather than working through things with conversation.

Spoke to my friend about this and how difficult it is to remember that other people work differently to me and she offered an autism high five. So yeah, just need to try to remember that I am autistic and that reading everyone's actions as if I was acting in that way is not always correct. Talking to other people is really helpful for that and stopping my anxious brain from running away with me coming up with the worst reasons why they're not responding.

I think all of our miscommunications have been the two of us reading the other person's actions as if it was is acting that way and ascribing incorrect meaning to things, so I need to work on clarifying things instead of assuming I know what's going on and not checking.

#communication #personal #relief #autistic #communication difficulties #relationships #autistic adult #mental health

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spooksforsammy · 2 months

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Write alot poetry lately because school poetry unit. Have learn have write so is better practice because teacher picky will fail over smallest wrong details.

But is hard because communication disorder, not only speech. She want metaphors and figurative language and raw emotions, and those things just really can’t do.

So next poem(will post) have be extended metaphor (comparing one thing to another?). So mines compares death to feeling emotions.

But teacher trying find out why taking so long understand unit. Because is language don’t understand and she want things I don’t understand. Raw emotion figurative language metaphor. Those confuse me. It’s takes me longer if even figure out!

#speech4amy #communication difficulties

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nikkilbook · 4 days

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Where's the Line?

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Isabol passed him his plate from where she’d finished filling it, and he joined her at the table. Breakfast wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was nice enough. The newlywed cottages were always stocked with enough staples to get the couples started, though most would also have some extras, like a chicken or goat, covered by the dowries.

Though usually, the families of the couples had a few days beforehand to finish stocking the cottage. No one but he and Isabel had been up to theirs in the five days since the handfasting. All they had was a basic root cellar with what excess could be spared since the last young couple had been married. Some grain, since the last growing season had gone uncommonly well. Dried spices and herbs, though more of those could be found in the forest without too much trouble. Some preserves and other canned fruit. Sugar, salt, though not too much. Those were usually shipped in from towns in the mountains, and it wasn’t often that someone would just buy extras unless it was specifically meant for a young relative’s dowry.

So they’d made do with porridge’s and stews for the last few days, along with some apples they’d been able to gather from the forest on their visit to their tree. Isabel had done her best to make some biscuits the other day, and they tasted all right even if they looked a bit unappetizing. She’d talked it over a bit, and she seemed pretty sure she knew what to change for the next batch.

“What are you thinking about?”

Tristan blinked, and realized he’d been staring blankly at the cabinets for however long it took for his eyes to start feeling this itchy. He had half a biscuit in his hand, and a mouthful of food he’d stopped chewing. He jerked his head back to center, fixed his eyes on his plate, and swallowed as fast as he could around a noticeably dry throat.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying very hard not to end up with a fistful of crumbs. “Didn’t mean to get distracted.”

“You don’t have to—you didn’t do anything wrong? We were just eating?” Isabol’s voice which he’d always associated with a sense of firmness, of steadiness, and a kind of knowing he’d never felt anywhere else in his life, felt brittle around the edges. “You just seemed like you... went away, in your head, just a bit. Like you were thinking really hard about something, and you stopped eating. Should I not—do you not want me to do that in the future?” Her voice was smaller than he’d ever wanted to hear it. “Am I supposed to let you come back on your own time, and not interrupt?”

Tristan had never been asked that before, and both the asking and the question were entirely too much to deal with. So he decided not to.

“It’s market day,” he said.

Isabel blinked.

“I was thinking. About market day.” He hadn’t, exactly. He’d been very carefully thinking around it, but it was where his thoughts were always going to end up. “So we can get different food. And the dowries.”

“Oh, um.” Isabel looked over at the cabinets he’d been staring through, and nodded. “That’s a good idea. Since nobody’s come up yet, they probably aren’t... going to....” Her brow drew down, a single furrow forming directly in the middle of her forehead, and the line of her mouth distorted as she bit the inside of her lip. She’d just started doing that back before they’d stopped seeing each other, back when they were kids. “Do you think we’d need to talk to someone from the family directly, or do you think we could get away with going to the counting house and talking to one of the clerks? That would be faster, I think, but it would mean having someone else know our business, as well as know that our families didn’t stock things.” Her nose wrinkled. “Half the town would know by the end of the day, and the other half would learn about it over the dinner table. Which I cant say I’d enjoy, and it’d surely aggravate my uncles.”

Tristan very carefully didn’t say that he suspected most of them already knew. The town had always loved any gossip that painted his family in a bad light, for all they were still willing to do business with his father and uncles. He looked at the frustration on Isabol’s face, and the knot of very-carefully-unsaid things grew a little larger in his throat. If he said he’d prefer the counting house, would that frustration swallow him? Last night, when she’d convinced him to sleep in the bed with her, she’d been softer and kinder than anyone he’d spoken to in a long time, and she’d said they were a team. That she believed what he’d said back when they were kids, even if she’d stormed off as a child.

It was one thing to believe what he’d said; it was another to expect her to sit through it with him.

This was where he should offer to go by himself to their families and collect the dowry gifts. Let her give him a list of what to pick up as well as any personal effects to collect from her parents’ home. This was where he should be an adult and represent his new household to the community. That was how this was supposed to go.

Tristan hooked one thumb over the other and squeezed hard, twisting and pinching until the skin darkened to a dull red and he idly wondered if he’d break his own thumb. He did not want to try and walk up to her father’s door, especially not alone and especially not trying to pretend like he had a right to be there. He knew what they thought of him, he was beginning to understand why they thought it of him, and for all that the legal debs had all been squared, now he, the son of a liar and a cheat, had effectively stolen one of their best and brightest. He could see no reason why they would hate him any less than they had 5 days ago.

He didn’t want to face her father and uncles; what did it make him that he wanted her to be there to see it when he ultimately would?

She had been kind to him, and seemed not to mind living and working together. She’d invited him into the bed. She had apologized. And yet a part of him, one that had burrowed deep where grabbing hands and stomping feet couldn’t reach, one that had gnawed is way out of a trap and knew who had set it, wanted her to see. To really understand what it was to be him.

Another part, backed into the burrow of his skull and blocked from sight by the other, hoped that maybe if she were there, nothing would happen.

“If,” he whispered, his voice pitched a little higher and riding on the sigh escaping his lungs, “if we go to. The counting house. We can pick what we want instead of taking what they give us.” Could make sure things were quality, and that they got their full dowries’ worth.

Isabel nodded slowly, her eyes focused on whatever was going through her head. “I think—yeah. That’s probably best. I’d like to go by my family’s place at some point, just to pick up some of my own things, but for the dowries, the counting house is our best bet.” She got up and went over to the door to the cottage, moving things around a bit before returning with a slate and a bit of chalk. Nudging her breakfast to the side, she sat backdown and started making notes, her head resting on her off-hand. Most of her mouth was covered, but he could still hear her muttering fairly clearly.

“...enough to last the season, or...? Need tools as well, for… depends on how… subsistence or trade?”

Tristan felt kind of floaty, like the edges of himself that touched the chair, the table, the floor, were starting to dissolve, leaving him suspended. He should be participating, right? He should have answers to the questions she was asking. Or did she want to do it by herself? Did she want to take the lead when it came to interacting with the village? That would probably make things easier. Would give her a chance to keep some of her reputation intact, too.

The back of the slate scrape a bit on the tabletop as Isabol spun it around to face him. “What do you think?”

The spark that lit up the back of his neck didn’t even have time to catch before he got a good look at what she’d written. Tick marks, clusters of letters that didn’t spell anything, curved lines that crossed over one another in what seemed like nonsense, but that he knew neatly represented entire words or sentences.

He knew what merchant shorthand looked like.

He looked down at the table, closing his eyes just enough to turn the slate blurry. There was a pain in his chest, just behind his ribs, that felt like something was pulling his bones out of alignment, collapsing them inward into his lungs. “It looks good,” he whispered, hoping it wouldn’t seem like he didn’t care.

“Is there anything else you want to look for? And did I guess your dowry amount right?”

Tristan bit his lip, not able to hide it this time. “It’s probably fine. We can check it again at the counting house.”

“But if—” Isabol’s voice cut off, but Tristan still didn’t look up. It was getting difficult to concentrate, because his mind was playing back the expressions of every person who’d ever handed him something in shorthand, or who’d snatched it from his hand from across a counter. Superimposing those faces over Isabol’s felt uncomfortable and surreal, but he couldn’t make himself look up. He didn’t want to know what her face looked like when she finally got disgusted with him.

A hand slowly pushed into his vision, stopping just shy of where Tristan was white-knuckling his sleeves. It bent up at the wrist a bit, like it was getting ready to touch him, but it just stayed there.

The memory of the night before, of her hands on his face and the tight hug she’d wrapped him up in, joined the other echoes in his head, and he slumped a little, letting her hand come in contact with his.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t read what you wrote down. I never—I’m sure the list is good, I just don’t—I can’t read it.”

Her hand felt tighter where it gripped his wrist. Not uncomfortable, not tight enough to bruise, but enough to be noticeable. Her thumb moved across the heel of his palm, leaving little static-like tingles on the surface of the skin that sunk deep into the muscle.

“Did… I use the wrong script?” She asked, but her voice sounded like she didn’t believe it. “Does your family use a different version?”

Tristan shook his head. They both knew there was only one version—the whole point was to be able to communicate almost universally with other merchants, regardless of origin. None of the variations that did exist would have rendered a message incomprehensible.m”I recognize the shapes and some of the patterns, but I don’t —I can’t read. Shorthand, I mean. I can read regular books or lists, just not… not that.”

She was confuse. Or maybe frustrated? She was something, he could tell by the way her hand tightened around his, going stiff but keeping her thumb moving across his palm in an attempt to seem casual. He was just adding fuel to the fire—there was a breaking point, there had to be, but he didn’t want to find it, no matter how stressful it was to never know how close he was cutting it. He shoved the words out past his teeth and hoped they made enough sense when they landed to pull everything away from the edge.

“No one ever taught me how to read it. I tried figuring it out myself from the lists and what people gave me, but eventually I figured out that the orders didn’t always match no matter what kind of list it was, so I couldn’t find the patterns. I don’t know whose idea it was, my father or my uncles or somebody else, if they didn’t think I was fit to join the company, or if they wanted me to be a bad m-match for you, but I can’t read it, I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s a good list, I promise I tried, I just can’t read it.”

“Do you want me to show you how?”

Tristan held his breath.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, or—or don’t want me to, I guess. I can rewrite the list in script, that’s fine, I only wrote it like this to save space and work out my thoughts. Or I could go by myself, if you want? I just thought it would make the most sense to do it together, but I didn’t know—I can tell you what’s on the list? So you’re still part of the decision. I didn’t want to leave you out—but I guess I already did, I should have talked it out while I was writing. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to cut you out or anything.”

He missed some of what she said as just noise, his brain following certain threads a few stops further before realizing she was still talking, but even if he didn’t catch every word, her voice was still… comforting. She sounded a little stressed, and her words were quicker than normal, but she kept doing this—trying so hard to reassure him even if she didn’t think she knew how. Even last night, when he’d started panicking, he’d eventually been able to see what she’d been trying to do.

She hadn’t tried to hurt him yet.

He really wanted it to stay that way.

“Maybe you could just point things out as we pick them up for now? If you still want me to come with you?”

“Okay. Okay, okay.” Isabol nodded, repeating the word under her breath and setting the flats of her hands solidly on the table in front of her. “Is there anything you want to do before we go, or should we just get this over with so we can have the rest of the day to ourselves?”

Tristan breathed in and let it out as deliberately as he could, furrowing his brow and staring down at the table as he piled his utensils onto his plate. “Let’s go.” He focused very, very hard on the image of he and Isabol under their tree spending their evening away from everyone and everything, and not the next several hours. It didn’t matter what happened in the market, because the tree was on the other side.

Isabol joined him in standing, tis late in the one hand and the remains of her breakfast in the other. She brushed past his shoulder and looked up at him as she scraped the rest of her food into the compost pail. “Let’s go. Together, okay?”

Dishes on the counter, he took the hand she’d reached out to him, and nodded. The tree’s on the other side. “Okay.”

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southwoodhomeservicesinhome · 7 months

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Dementia can pose diverse and complex challenges for patients and their caregivers alike. If you are in a similar situation, learning as much as you can about these challenges and how best to navigate them can significantly lessen the difficulties you might be experiencing. Allow us at Southwood Home Services in Home Care to provide you with insights!

#Communication Difficulties #Professional Care #Psychological Symptoms

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plainselfraisingflour · 8 months

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Working with but not being a soeech pathologist is fun. Today I forgot the word 'commercial', as in commercial kitchen. I could depend on them to get it with the clues I gave them....I just wish it didn't involve feeling like I have aphasia. I also really like soft, saucy food because I have a crooked jaw (I think). So yay dysphagic too.

#speech pathology #communication #communication difficulties #dysphagia #swallowing difficulties #feeling tired #and kinda down

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edorazzi · 2 months

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Page 2 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Felix's family situation changes dramatically with little time to process. And just who is Richard Sphinx anyway? 🤔

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Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

#miraculous ladybug #mentor au #felix sphinx #richard sphinx #A Matter of Trust #josie's art #yes felix is not french! quelle surprise :V #just adding to his list of difficulties with communication (but bri thinks he's ADORABLE) ; w ;

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