I am going to write about something I actually do not like writing about because it’s something I don’t even like talking about. I hate this subject more than anything. To clarify, I am not going for an award winning entry here. I am not writing this to show off my skills. I am writing this because I am hurting. I am writing this because just a few minutes ago I completely broke down in the middle of my living room. I felt pathetic. I somehow managed to find a way to email my therapist while sobbing profusely and sucking down my sloppy snot rockets. I am writing this for myself.I just had a nervous fucking breakdown. I was in the middle of listening to one of my podcasts; totally normal mood. Then I started thinking about my anxiety and came to the realization that my anxiety is heavily influenced by my speech. When I am anxious, my speech gets worse. It is incredibly hard for me to get words out when I am anxious, but I am anxious about getting words out. Am I really going to be stuck in this uphill hamster wheel forever? I am so fucking sad right now. I feel like it’s a never-ending circle of hell.
I have a stutter. I hate even typing out the word. I hate saying it, I hate when people talk about it, and I hate hearing the word in songs. I hate it. I am very aware that I should “love myself.” I am aware of this. I am sorry if this offends anyone, but unfortunately, I have to be selfish right now and be one hundred percent real. I never talked about my stutter for the first 29 years of my life. I cringe at the word. I am 30 now. I just started being okay with openly talking about it with my mom. Even then, I hate it and want to move to the next subject as quickly as possible. I hate it so much. The first guy I ever dated never brought it up. I think he knew it would embarrass me. Eight years we dated, he never brought it up once. I secretly thanked him for that.
I remember thinking as a kid, “If I could change one thing about myself, what would it be?” It would be my stutter. Ask me what I would want to change about myself today? It would be my stutter. I fucking hate my stutter. I can’t help but feel robbed of life sometimes. I do not view myself as a victim and do not want to be perceived that way. I am saying this because I feel fucking robbed. I feel like the overall quality of my life is compromised and it’s unfair. I feel selfish saying this because I know people suffer from things far worse. However my feelings are valid, and sometimes it’s just really fucking hard okay.
I recognize that my speech gets worse when I do not feel confident in my life. The early ’30s are such a weird and confusing time. People don’t talk about it enough. You have to learn how to be okay with change, you just do. You have to learn how to be good at embracing transitions. You also have to be good at embracing the in-betweens and the fuck ups along the way. I am still learning how to do this and most days it’s really hard. I am not confident in my place in life at the moment, just being honest. I have recently changed career paths and I’m fucking broke. I do not feel good about myself at all. I go to therapy every two weeks and it helps, but this is a different kind of pain that I have never felt before. I do not feel that the quality of my life is as good as it could be. If I didn’t have a speech impediment, I would do more. I would love to have a podcast. I would love to be able to talk on the phone. I am trying to type this without bursting into tears. I do not talk about this because it’s uncomfortable for me and I do not want to feel like a victim or for people to feel sorry for me.
My speech gets worse when I’m in a high-stress environment. This includes family parties, celebrations, and reunions. Anything that involves being forced to speak. I mean, the whole point of getting people together is to reunite and catch up. It’s the human way. Humans thrive on social interactions, we are made to co-exist. Social interactions are my version of hell. Anyone with a speech impediment will tell you that anxiety will trigger it and make it ten times worse. It feels almost impossible to get a single word out, especially when I am thinking about what to say. Ironically, I am much more fluent when I don’t think before I talk. That isn’t exactly realistic. The thing about speech is that it gets worse with anxiety. But now I feel like I have actually just become anxiety.
My speech impediment makes me feel like less of a person. I said it, and it sucks. Sometimes it’s like you don’t even feel human. You don’t feel worthy of love or happiness or life in general. I don’t understand how anyone could love me. Wouldn’t they rather be with someone who spoke fluently, I mean life is hard enough! I don’t understand how anyone could willingly want to be with me. I really don’t. The faces I make when I’m struggling to get a word out. That isn’t pretty nor is it feminine. It looks painful actually. It’s embarrassing. I don’t understand how anyone could think I am sexy or beautiful. Is my boyfriend with me because he feels bad for me? How can I change the narrative of feeling inferior? I am lucky I get to be loved.
It’s easy to resent words. However, I feel like words are all I have. Especially when I don’t have to physically get them out of my mouth. I so badly wish that I could type everything out and never have to speak again. It is so frustrating to not be able to say things that I want to say, and how I want to say them. Norm Macdonald used to talk about how the best part of a joke is the shock factor when you don’t see it coming. That is so true.
I’m funny. I’m a really funny person. I have so many jokes in my head that I just wind up keeping to myself because it’s hard for me to physically say them. I am also witty as hell. I am smart. I am so fucking smart, and most people would never know. I can’t imagine what people think when they meet me for the first time. The second I start to express myself with the faintest tinge of nervousness, I would stumble on a word. I look at their faces. I feel the shift. They no longer think I am smart or witty or funny or any of the things I actually am. They just feel bad for me.
I know for a fact that my brain is a gold mine. It really is. I will give myself that. I so badly wish I could express myself more sometimes. I have a lot of good stuff up there! Sometimes it’s easier to just not. It feels like my brain and my voicebox are trying to do cartwheels uphill, while juggling a handful of fruit, in the middle of a snowstorm, all while having the hiccups. Except it’s actually worse. It’s like it just gets too excited or something. I could hear my mom’s voice in my head from when I was a little girl. “Slow down, I know you’re excited but slow down.” I don’t want to slow down. I want to not have a fucking stutter anymore.
I couldn’t work a fast food job. I couldn’t even work at Taco Bell if I wanted to. Want to know why? People are depending on just my voice for an answer. My first job was at McDonald’s and I was lucky that I had gone six months at this point without any major slip-ups. One morning I went to greet the customers at the window, and my boss happened to glance over at me and I couldn’t speak. I literally couldn’t speak for almost a full minute. At that point, it gets hard to breathe. My boss kept yelling at me to say something and I couldn’t, so I quit then and there. I called my mom to pick me up and then took a five-hour bath. I cried the whole time.
The phone is especially challenging for me. Any situation where people depend on my voice for a response is challenging for me. Communication is expression. It is an exchange. If I know that the person I am communicating with is depending on me for an answer, it is harder for me. It just is. I need to be able to talk with my hands and look them in the face, otherwise, it’s hard for me to get a word out. I always feel rude whenever I am at a party and we are all sitting together at once because if I know they can’t really hear me, that means they are depending on my physical voice for information. And I can’t give them that without stuttering. I avoid situations like that altogether. I depend on my body language to express myself because it’s the only other way I know how to. When I am angry, it is hard for me to get words out. If I can’t even get words out of my mouth how am I ever supposed to work up the courage to defend myself? Who is going to take me seriously? They will listen to me for three seconds and immediately know they have a one-up on me. I usually just back down and wind up apologizing anyways.
I hate when people try to finish my sentences. They think it’s sweet, but it’s actually super embarrassing. It is like them saying, “I notice you talk differently and it seems like you are having a hard time, I will no longer be listening to you because I am now focused on helping you.” They’re not actually listening to anything I have to say because they are focused on my stutter. I would spend the rest of my life paying for the luxury of never having to talk like this again. I would pay any amount of money. How can I explain to someone that I can’t come to their party because I can’t even answer a simple question if someone asks? They will forever look at me as “Aw, Sophia..” and sigh because they feel bad for me. I find myself avoiding family dinners completely. It would mean that at some point I will have to be put on the spot and I will one hundred percent struggle. And then I am watching everyone watch me, struggle. It is so hard to control and sometimes people think I am standoffish or they can tell I have something I want to say. I would do anything to not feel embarrassed. There is nothing worse than knowing what I want to say, and not being able to properly construct it the way I intended to. Especially meeting new people. I start my sentence, stumble, and immediately notice their change in facial expression when they figured out how I talk. Having a stutter, I’ve learned how to switch some words out for others. But sometimes I don’t want to do that. I want to say what I want to fucking say, how I want to say it..and I can’t. These are all the harsh and ugly truths that no one really talks about because it’s harsh and it’s ugly. But it’s real. And it’s life.
I feel a sense of emptiness today. It’s like I just now realized that my life will always have a sense of dimness to it. I don’t feel I could fully express myself in this life because people will always look at me as someone who struggles. I hope in my next life I can show the world all the beautiful parts of me. Maybe I’ll be a butterfly.