[Through Their Eyes] Mutism – Phantom Voice

Nearly a year ago, I introduced my poem series called Through Their Eyes, which holds the goal to bring you inside the minds of young people battling mental health challenges. For the first poem, the subject of childhood schizophrenia was addressed through the poem I wrote with the help of a 9-year-old boy who gave me a glimpse into his life. However, after everything went silent, this to focus on getting to know several children who would allow me to share their tales through poems.

However, also because of a different reason. I wanted the first poem after to be special, related to someone I really care about. Quite ironically, I stated in my first post of what should have been a series already: “Each poem breaks down another wall of silence.” And if you’ve recently read this blog, you’ll know what I am referring to. My younger brother Stanisław is mute, which means he isn’t able to speak at all. Not even vocalize. He’s quite literally a wall of silence. At least, in sound. He says a lot by his writing…

Of which one of the subjects was his mutism. As he stated, being non-verbal and non-speaking are two different things. Which is a statement based on this being the truth. Sadly, many people related to those who’re non-verbal have started to take claim of “non-speaking”, as they claim the terminology of nonverbalism has become discriminatory, as they believe that it refers to not using words. Which, yeah, it does refer to exactly that, as non-verbal people can vocalize, even if they can’t speak words. They are, however, claiming that people believe that non-verbal people are unable to think, which might be truly how some people think, but it lacks an explanation of how this connects to being able to use words or not. Like, someone who is completely unable to use words still thinks…

The problem of being nonverbal, it’s about words. It always has been. If you can speak, write, or sign, you would factually not be nonverbal. The problem is that nonverbal has become a catch-all term for many, describing any situation in which a child doesn’t speak, especially on the autism spectrum.

That’s also why I gave the above list, to show there are so many more possible diagnoses that it could be. But also because most children and adults claimed to be nonverbal actually have one of the other conditions. Several of these conditions are known to be heavily underdiagnosed, such as abulia, which is actually recognized as a common disorder, regardless of the numbers of diagnoses not showing this. I will have to note that I only focused on the speech side, as conditions like abulia can show in other ways too.

For someone like my little brother, the lack of understanding has major consequences. There’s often a complete lack of understanding that someone can be completely mute, people often think of those who are nonverbal and still communicate through vocalization. Or as bad is selective mutism, meaning they think it’s possible for him to overcome all of this. However, the sad truth is that mutism is hardly ever overcome, if even able to treated at all. We need awareness of this, which becomes extremely hard when people don’t dare to open up about the many other conditions that exist.

That’s also why I will repeat the words of my little brother: Stop calling those who are nonverbal as non-speaking.

However, to add to his words: stop calling everyone nonverbal and start learning about the other conditions, especially if you support someone who has one of them. You would not only learn a lot this way yourself, but also support the ones you claim to be supporting in the first place…

Anyhow, here’s the poem I wrote based on what I learned through my little brother about mutism and how he experiences it. And if you want to learn more about my little brother, check out Mute Doodle Den for his own works, including where he tells about mutism in his own words.

Poem: Phantom Voice

A silent world, a captive tongue,
a universe of thoughts unsung.
He walks among the chattering kind,
a vessel for a voice confined.
Not by a choice, nor fleeting fear,
but by a lock he holds so dear,
and yet despises, day by day,
the silent thief that stole his say.

He sees the pity in their eyes,
the clumsy, well-intentioned tries
to understand, to bridge the space,
a lonely runner in a race
where others glide on effortless sound,
while he is rooted to the ground.
His hands will sketch a thought with care,
they’ll guess the rest and leave it there.

They cannot know the churning sea,
the eloquent soliloquy
that rages in his silent mind,
a poet of the muted kind.
His joys, a silent, soaring bird,
his sorrows, a forgotten word.
He screams, but only feels the strain,
a phantom voice, a silent pain.

An argument, a witty turn,
a lesson he can never learn
to share with those who quickly move
from topic, in a careless groove.
He writes his words on paper thin,
a glimpse of all that lies within.
But ink is cold, and lines are slow,
to match the passion’s fiery glow.

And so he lives, a guest unheard,
defined by one unspoken word.
The laughter rings, the stories flow,
a world he watches, but can’t know
in that same way of give and take,
a bond that spoken words can make.

And in the quiet of his night,
he mourns the sound, he craves the light,
to shatter silence, and be free,
to finally, just simply be.