But because I was good verbally and my recall was fine I was able to sit my exams, which I passed, and then I went to university. An issue that was slightly embarrassing at the time. The fact was that most teachers, classmates and the like couldn’t understand anything I wrote so I stopped writing and did the bare minimum of notes in class, which was fine due to my ability to memorise things fairly well I could still cope in class but writing each year became more and more of an issue as the assessments got longer and longer and my ability to string a coherent sentence together got weaker and weaker, resulting in the need for a scribe for my GCSE and a levels. Now I could read, articulate myself as well as the best of them and had no real down side to my reading so no obvious outwards expression of my dyslexia until I started to write and it was there I really showed how severe I had it. Sad to say though, I wasn’t out of the woods in fact this is where the real issue with my dyslexia started. The good news was that as soon as I understood the letters I could read the words, in some fashion, and from there I started to fully grasp the English language and catapulted forwards with my reading, going from the worst in my class to one of the best readers – all in the space of a year or two and kindling a new found love of books that remains to this day. The big issue at this time was reading which I found incredibly hard and that meant my writing was reams behind my classmates, this all came to a head with my mum sending me to go and see a specialist teacher on the weekends who helped me start to untangle the strange symbols into letters, and then into words, but by this time I was far behind my friends in my writing. It was my mother who noticed it to start off as I had been able to get past my lack of reading by memorising books from people reading them to me.

Mark of the horse lord