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"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." James Earl Jones

27 August 2011

The “Why Me?” Stutterer

You’re standing inside your local bank, requesting to withdrawal from your account. Or you’re in class, and it’s your turn to participate in a group discussion. Maybe you’re talking to your family, or introducing yourself to someone new.  Either way, you eventually notice the sly presence of stutter-anticipation growing in your mind.  Your body tenses; your teeth feel foreign, and misplaced. You fight for control, but it’s inevitable: you stutter.  And even after the conversation is over, shame still weighs on your tongue. You can’t help but wonder: “Why me?”
I’ll answer this question— but stutterers, please bear with me. I learned this the hard way, and if I can spare anyone unnecessary grief, then I will.  This topic will be uncomfortable, but it’s something I wish someone had told me years ago.
So, you ask: “Why me?”
Individually, these words are completely harmless. But together, they’re dynamite… one fuse away from destroying your self-confidence. This may sound extreme, but stutterers, you have to stop asking this question.  Despite stuttering research and discoveries, there is no clear answer. You may never know why you have a speech impediment—but you do. If you’re an adult, then it’s already a part of who you are. Stop regretting things you can’t change.  Too many times have I agonized over my words—just to realize, finally, that no amount of anxiety will repair my speech. If anything, it’s quite the opposite. Self pity is neither healthy, nor helpful. The more I fret, the more I fear hearing my own voice… and the more I stutter.
This doesn’t mean you won’t have bad days. But what you do on those days will make all the difference.  Because every person is unique, I can’t offer you a universal resolution— but, I can give you three pieces of advice:
1.        Don’t keep your unhappiness to yourself. Like I’ve said before, the biggest lie stutterers concoct is: “I’m alone.” There is no truth to this, and when you feel downhearted, the worst thing you can do is keep it inside. There is someone that cares about you—a family member, a friend, a speech therapist… even me. We want to know what you’re feeling.  Acknowledging your stutter, as well as your feelings towards it, is such a sweet freedom.  It may be uncomfortable at first (for you, and for the Fluent you’re confiding in) but the more you speak about it, the less often you’ll feel the need to.  Fluents, my advice for you is simple: listen. We don’t expect you to have a cure, and we know it’s difficult for you to empathize. But sympathize, and when you’re not listening, encourage. (And please, don’t say any form of: “I understand… sometimes I stutter, too.” I know you mean well, but there really is a significant difference in occasionally speaking too quickly, and having a speech impediment.  Your comfort is wonderful— but, making your molehill disfluency into a mountain makes our speech impediment feel like its own continent)
2.       Allow yourself time to be sad. Don’t deny yourself grief. Stuttering is frustrating, dispiriting, and painful. Grieve, and do so deeply… then move on. Self-pity can control your life if you allow it to. Don’t let your stutter become bigger than you are.
3.       Let positivity in. It’s difficult to be positive after a day of stuttering, and putting yourself in an optimistic mindset is easier said than done. Sometimes, you’ll have to make a conscious effort to pull yourself out of a bad day. So, what can you do? Engage yourself in something you do well, or something you enjoy. Are you athletic? Go take a run. Are you great in the kitchen? Fire up the skillet. The more you emphasize your strengths, the less influence your stutter will have.     
If you sincerely make an effort, I promise your stutter will lose its sting. In the past, the smallest disfluency or acknowledgement of my stutter sent flames to my cheeks. The thoughts were consuming, and kept my mouth wound shut. I was convinced that not speaking could prevent what I was feeling, but I was wrong. The only emotion I prevented was happiness.   
That being said, let’s return to the crux of the matter. Stutterers, you ask, “Why me?”
Well… why not you?
Everyone has insecurities, everyone has imperfections—and while I recognize that stuttering is certainly a different type of insecurity (after all, stuttering has no cure, and no “fix”) you can’t hold this flaw superior over any other. Yes, it’s rare; yes, it’s unwarranted. But don’t give your stutter any more power than it already has. It already influences your mouth. Don’t let it manipulate your thoughts, or invade your heart.  You are a person who stutters. You are not just a stutterer. This does not, and should not, define you.
This is how I define myself. I am a daughter, sister, friend, coworker, supporter, laugher, lover, and writer… who happens to stutter. 
So, who are you?
-Rachel

01 August 2011

Are Stutterers to Blame?


For a long time, I thought my stutter was my fault.

My mouth froze, my jaw twitched. My tongue searched desperately to achieve correct contact. But I always knew the words I wanted to say. I could see them in my head. I could spell them, rhyme them, sing them in a song. But trying to speak them, especially in mid-stutter, was debilitating.
The more frustrating my speech became, the more curious I grew of its cause. But even after discovering the four main factors (genetics, child development, family dynamics, and neurophysiology from my last entry) I was still frustrated. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just stop.
Couldn’t I control my own body?
That’s when I realized… stuttering is not a physical disability. It’s a psychological one.
My difficulty is my thought process. If I speak freely I hardly ever stutter. On the other hand, if I allow my thoughts time to fully develop, mentally arranging my sentences, my mind hunts for Problem Words… and the anticipation of the words causes my stutter. In this circumstance, the obvious solution seems to be simple: speak before you think. But realistically, can that be applied to every situation?
It’s when stutterers most desire to be fluent that their thoughts must be carefully chosen… making this method completely counterproductive.  Would you, for instance, advise a “speak-then-think” mindset during a job interview? Or when you’re presenting a project in class? In addition to this, these situations are usually more stressful, and increase disfluency. This combination means our words sound like scrambled eggs compared to the Eggs Benedict we had originally planned.
Still, the idea of stutter-anticipation causing a speech impediment is something I’m not entirely comfortable with.  It implies that stutterers (or at least stutterers like me) have a choice in stuttering. But you can’t control your subconscious. If you’re attempting to avoid thinking… well, you’ll instinctively think. I can’t make a mindful decision to speak freely. Our intellect, unfortunately, doesn’t function like this.
Though stutterers can’t consciously avoid stuttering-anticipation, I can’t help but wonder its role in the disorder. We know the four factors are why most children start to stutter. 5% of children at or below the preschool level will stutter; but 3/4 of these stutters will correct themselves by late childhood. So, the real question isn’t: what causes stuttering? Instead, we should be asking: why do some children never stop? Do stuttering children develop stutter-anticipation, and increase their chances of having a lifelong stutter?
With all the progress researchers are making, I know one day I’ll receive answers to these questions. Truthfully, I can’t be certain that stuttering-anticipation is as significant to all stutterers as it is to me. That’s definitely something I’d like to explore, and if you can offer any insight, I’d love to hear it.
In the meantime, there is one thing that I do know: intervention, not prevention, should be our focus. No matter how much stuttering research excites me, I know my speech impediment will always be a part of my life. And I’m just beginning to understand that doesn’t have to be a terrible thing.
A few weeks ago, I met a woman at my job that I instantly liked; over the summer, we’ve had an abundance of jokes and conversations. But I learned, just recently, that she is a speech pathologist. She told me something today that I know will always remain with me. After she left, I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and wrote her words down, terrified to forget them. “Fluency is such a small part of communication,” she told me. “You’ve got everything you need, really… you have heart.”  
My heart is dedicated to stutterers. And I hope this blog is helping you understand why.
-Rachel