Something I don’t talk about as often as I used to— I’d like to shed some light on Tourette’s Syndrome and my experience with it.
“It’s like me to be focused. It’s like me to concentrate on the task at hand. It’s like me to get things done immediately.” These are all things that I write down and tell myself daily because it used to take me 10 minutes just to brush my teeth.
I was in elementary school, maybe 2nd or 3rd grade, when my parents noticed I kept squinting. Maybe I needed glasses? Maybe I had something in my eye. Then I started shaking my head, as if I was trying to get my hair out of my face.
I couldn’t stop, and I really didn’t notice how bad it was until my face and neck started hurting. Teachers and students at school would ask me to stop. “What’s wrong with you?” “You need to be on medication.” “Quit shaking your head at me.”
What my parents and I didn’t know was I would be diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome a couple years later. But before this diagnosis happened, I was put on a reward plan to stop these “habits.” Example: If I could stop squinting for 30 minutes, I could have a dessert.
It wasn’t working. I would stop for as long as I could, but these twitches, these habits, kept happening. I was devastated. I mean, I loved dessert. And, of course, I didn’t want to let my parents down.
Teachers and students at school would ask me to stop. “What’s wrong with you?” “You need to be on medication.” “Quit shaking your head at me.”
I developed a “chicken arm” twitch, which would affect my writing, my softball pitch, and even daily tasks— brushing my teeth and hair, eating food. I felt really bad about myself when I accidentally hit my mom with my arm while we were walking in the mall.
Now, I was a kid that didn’t care about people’s opinions. I wore comfy clothes, refused to brush my hair (just like my 9 year old!!) and often enjoyed being “different.” But this bothered me.
Finally, in fourth grade, we went to a doctor. He was old and had no personality. I remember the office being really cold and thinking to myself, “Get me out of here!”
After questions, it was concluded that I had Tourette’s Syndrome and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Woah. Dude… I’m just a child. But then it sunk in— I had a name for this “problem” I had. And I was ok with it.
“Tourette syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, stereotyped, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics.” Tourette.org
To be diagnosed, one must have at least 2 motor tics (movement) and 1 vocal tic (sounds.) I had a few.
The following years I went to a private school that specialized in helping children with learning disabilities. I met some very cool individuals at that school with disabilities far worse than mine ever was or will be. I was very blessed to have mild symptoms, which I learned to cope with— because I was confident, had a name to what was going on, and just made things work.
On that note, let’s jump to the present. My mild symptoms eventually turn into milder symptoms.
“Tics typically show up between ages 2 and 15, with the average being around 6 years of age. Males are about three to four times more likely than females to develop Tourette syndrome. Tics often lessen or become controlled after the teen years.” Mayoclinic.com
I fall under this description. My tics were much worse and frequent in my teen years. It really wasn’t until mid-college years that I noticed a difference. However, if I was emotional in any way— excited, sad, angry, etc. My tics got worse.
Now, most people don’t notice my tics until they’ve spent some time with me. Probably because I’m calm and focused, as I affirm with myself daily. I’m really lucky at the range, because most of my tics are hidden behind glasses. (Eye blinking, eye twitching, nose twitching, and a few other facial tics.)
But here’s why I wrote this long-winded blog: with positive affirmations, I can make it LIKE me to be calm, focused, and my tics are decreased… to almost nothing.
There are some famous athletes with Tourette’s. (Check out Tim Howard.) Some of them get their tics out before a game, then focus and stay virtually tic-free when it’s crunch time. I’ve been able to do the same. Example: prior to a shooting a stage at a pistol match, I may do a bunch of twitches during my make-ready process. Then when I am ready, I take a deep breath, visualize, and I just go into game mode.
This was the same when I rode motorcycles. I knew I couldn’t be twitching while I’m mid-corner. So on the start line, I’d do my twitches behind my helmet and wait for the flag. GO! Twitches stopped.
This showed me the power of the mind. While Tourette’s is considered to be “involuntary,” I always described it as wanting to scratch an itch. You feel a tic coming on, but eventually you do it so often, that it becomes subconscious.
I know Tourette’s is different for everyone. I have met several people, all with different tics, and different severity. But we all agreed that things got worse under stress. This told me that if I could stay calm more often, I wouldn’t have sore facial muscles.
Your mind is so incredibly powerful. You can train yourself to believe what you tell it. You CAN stay still. You CAN focus. Because it’s like you to be calm. You’re always focused. It’s like you to stay calm under pressure. And this leads us to a completely different post for later…
So that’s what makes me “tic.” Thanks for reading.
-Kimi