Cold calling strangers

May 7, 2014 by

Ah, the phone. How I hate you so. Since I can fill a week of posts just on the phone, I will. And again, these are just the basics — there’s plenty of nuance to this that I’ll get to as the months roll by.

I’d say about 99% of the time I stutter on saying my name, so I know it’s coming. There’s little I can do about it, so instead I slowly freak out.

Today I’ll start with the simplest pain — me, alone in my office, and I need to call someone who I’ve never called before.

Thankfully I’ve gotten to the point where I have an office where I can close the door. So that usually happens first. I suppose I could lock it just so nobody barges in. Then I start thinking — can I just e-mail this person instead? Do I have to call them right now, at this very moment? Can I get one of my guys to call them? If they’ve got a calendar that’s available, I might consider trying to call them when I know they’ll be in a meeting. That way they’ll have to call me, and I don’t really have to introduce myself. Or maybe I’ll call them during lunch. And actually, do I have to say my name at all? Can’t I just ask for something and then maybe at the end we can figure out how to say my name? I mean, really, how long can I put this off for?

Unfortunately, if I’m cold-calling someone, it’s probably urgent. So I suck it up and … the line is ringing. I’m silently hoping they don’t pick up so I don’t have to say anything. I’m definitely not leaving a message. (there’s one thing about leaving a long message and getting cut off, there’s a whole other level of frustration when I’m stuttering out six words and get cut off).

So the phone is ringing, and they pick up. Now, what I should have done (that I always, always, always) forget to do — is maybe write some sort of script and just barrel through it. But no. So since I’m panicking a bit, I introduce myself by way of my company. And maybe I don’t even say my name — just what I want. That way they are at least hooked. If I open with a stutter and my name, they might start talking and asking who this is, and can you repeat yourself and what do you want, and I can’t understand and … and … of course all of those interruptions really throw things off because now instead of just stuttering out my name, I’m in a bigger hurry. So I try to shut down that attempt and answer some questions, but the breathing is by now all messed up, and seriously, are they still asking and interrupting, can’t they just shut up for a second?

Anyway.

I get through it. Somehow. Sweating at my desk, stuck with tunnel vision, not remembering any sort of technique. Ok. Then it’s on to whatever is next — why was I calling again? At this time, I’m pretty defeated. I recognize the trauma, so I finally take a breath. I finally relax my shoulders. I finally think. I called because … they are waiting, but at least it’s my turn, and I start out slowly.

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Starting therapy and the rest of elementary school

May 6, 2014 by

In third grade, big changes started happening. I remember getting put into the gifted program (or maybe I was before, but now some of us were also in a separate group during regular class time) and my teacher, Mrs. Baker, telling me that while I did have a stutter, it wasn’t as bad as her uncle’s.

Even though I was being singled out for this, I wasn’t being held back by my stutter. I wasn’t letting it get in my way because I actually didn’t know any better. I was still doing very well in school, and scoring near the top of every test and quiz that was given. I knew almost all the answers in class as well.

While I haven’t asked my parents, I’m guessing this is around the time that the school district started talking to them about my stutter. My parents never talked to me about it anyway. Then in either third or fourth grade, I started speech therapy at school. It was what, maybe an hour or 45 minutes per week.

Like Jack before me, I would leave the classroom and see the therapist, a lady whose name I forgot. We’d sit down and chat, she’d make me say some sounds, some words, some sentences. And for the most part, I wouldn’t stutter at all. I was very comfortable. The nice thing was that nobody ever said, ‘hey, you need to fix this otherwise it’ll ruin your life forever.’ No, it was more of a break from classes to go chat with this nice lady, and that was that.

In fourth and fifth grade, I continued the speech therapy. And the gifted program. Thinking back on it, by fifth grade, I was very comfortable and confident. Knew pretty much everybody in the class, and got along well with them. Never got into any trouble. During a music class (while singing — or, you know, trying to sing) I discovered what anybody who stutters knows — that I didn’t stutter while singing. I thought this was pretty interesting albeit not very useful. My life wasn’t about to become a musical, after all.

I don’t remember the stuttering being a huge problem because we weren’t raising our hands and giving long descriptive answers. It was a quick word or number or whatever. Oral book reports or presentations … yeah, didn’t have those either that I recall. So things were going pretty well.

In our school district, the elementary school ended in fifth grade. Then it was time to get dumped into the junior high school (we called it middle school) for grades 6-8. A much bigger pool of kids, and a lot more uncertainty. But I’ll get to that in a little while. Let’s take a break and talk about how awful the telephone is for the next few days.

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Starts with an eye

May 5, 2014 by

Aside from reading to the kindergartners in first grade that I mentioned yesterday — and really, I don’t even remember the actual act of reading, just that I did it (I still have the book at my parent’s house) — I don’t recall any speaking out loud in first grade.

But in second grade, that’s when I remembered the stuttering started.

A family friend told me a simple story, the crux of which was, “his eyes were so itchy, he scratched them out.” No idea about the story’s other details …

Anyway, as a seven-year-old, I thought this was earth-shattering stuff, and so, when it was time for open sharing or book time or whatever (I remember we were all sitting on a carpet together) I raised my hands and told his random bit of information for everybody’s benefit. And I stuttered on the word “eye.”

For the rest of second grade, I don’t remember any other “public” speaking. What I do remember is one of the kids, Jack, going to “speech.” The teacher would tell him once a week that it was time for “speech,” and off he’d go. Years later I realized what was up — Jack had a lisp.

My entire elementary school life (and the rest of it, for that matter) was devoid of bullying. Nobody ever said anything negative about the way I spoke. I think the reason for this was because I was somewhat smart, and usually knew the answer to whatever was going on. And I wasn’t afraid to offer up help if anybody asked.

It wasn’t until third grade that I started seeing the school-provided therapist (I think) and I’ll get to that tomorrow.

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Karma

May 4, 2014 by

I think this week I’ll go back through some quick elementary school stories of stuttering. There’s not as much to say about these since those days are pretty vague. Also, it’s important to date this — times before the Internet and easy information. So it’s something like 1985-6 for first grade …

When I was a teenager and stuttering all the time, I wondered a lot what was causing this. I thought it might be something physical — maybe landing on my back or front all those times playing football in the backyard with my brother. Then, since we were being brought up to believe in God, maybe it was something bad I had done a long time ago that I was being punished for? What exactly could that be?

Ah, that’s right. First grade. During first grade, all of the students had the opportunity to read a story book to the kindergarten class. All you had to do was sign your name up on a list, and then you’d be the person for that week. Well, not being on top of things, of course I forgot about signing up. And the end of the year was coming. If I added my name to the bottom of the list now, I wouldn’t have the chance to read to them. But I really, really wanted to read to those kindergartners! (No idea why). So I simply went up to the list, erased someone else’s name, and put mine on there. (yes, I’m a terrible person) Done! And a few weeks later, I was reading to the little kiddies. I don’t remember stuttering at all in first grade, by the way.

Clearly that must have been the cause of the stuttering! Not only were you devious about signing up, but it was a verbal activity! And now your oral prowess would be compromised for life.

Obviously that wasn’t it, but this is the kind of thing that runs through your young mind when you have nowhere to turn.

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Overthinking this

May 1, 2014 by

Some more on the mentality I talked about yesterday. My brain actually uses a multi-pronged attack to create doubt and fear.

I was also thinking — what if I go to this Stuttering Conference and don’t stutter there? It’s entirely conceivable! I could mumble through an introduction or two, avoid making eye contact, eat alone, avoid the after-hours gatherings …

Ok, first of all, you’re there to listen and to talk and meet people. Even if you shut your yap for five days, you’d still hear people talk about stuttering which is pretty valuable. Especially since you’ve really never heard or read anybody else’s story on it.

Secondly, you’re going to pay and then travel [almost a whole day] to avoid words and be a wallflower? Then why start this blog? Why make this public?

Lastly, that approach might work for a work conference, but not for this. You can be yourself! How great is that? If you want to just go up to someone and talk to them, you can! No need to hold back because you’re afraid of stuttering out your name. Remember those work conferences when you thought, ‘hey, I should go talk to them,’ and didn’t? Well this is the exact opposite of that.

I think what’s really at work here is that this would be my first conference, and I really have no experience or idea of how to meet people randomly and whatnot. I mean, I do, and I’m just afraid to.

Ugh. I’m way overthinking this. As usual. Every time a speaking-heavy engagement comes up, I do this.

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Easy avoidance

April 30, 2014 by

Wow, is it ever easy to avoid words. I’m talking to my boss, asking about taking time off in July. Instead of saying a “week,” I say “seven days.” Terrible. But I could feel that ‘w’ wasn’t coming out, and I wanted to just get on with it. A quick think back at the conversation also reveals that I didn’t breathe right and had my shoulders haunched up, causing more tension than necessary.

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Talking myself into this

April 30, 2014 by

Regarding this conference — it’ll probably require that I talk to people. And as someone who stutters, I really haven’t been a fan of that.

Most of my stuttering life, I’ve shut out things like conferences and social meet-ups because I talk my way through what might happen, decide I don’t need it, and then that’s it. Like for this conference, because of that hard-wired response, it went like this:

So you’ll go there, and you’ll meet someone who stutters. And then what? You’ll talk to each other, realize you’ve been through the same things and then …? What are they going to tell you that you don’t already know? You know there’s no cure, so … what, you’re going to get therapy and solve all your problems in 4 days?

But this is exactly the mentality I need to break out of. The point of this blog. The point of going to an intimidating conference and facing down the fear of talking to strangers spontaneously. And what better conference to make my first? Nobody is going to judge me! Nobody is going to laugh at me when I [can barely] introduce myself! People will laugh knowingly when I get stuck on my name and then point sheepishly to my nametag. They’ll be patient with me!

Alright, this is good. The mental state is changing. Now to clear it with the family and get permission from the boss …

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…so here we go.

April 29, 2014 by

After years of writing my thoughts and experiences with stuttering in notebooks and journals, it’s finally time to get this blog going. Some of the pages are already up — About and FAQs. As stated on those pages, I’m pretty lousy at blogging regularly, so please be patient.

I suppose the first thing to talk about is the National Stuttering Association’s annual conference.

It’s only two months away, but I have some vacation time I could use to go. Since I’m living and working in Saudi, I need to sort it out pretty quickly.

The irony of course is that I’m pretty intimidated by going to a conference … with hundreds of people … who I don’t know … who I’ll feel I have to talk to … since I paid to fly over and whatnot. I know that most of them will stutter, and I know many others will be speech therapists and professionals. But it’s still intimidating. On the other hand, if I’m going to come out publicly (mostly to myself) that I stutter, then well, time to embrace the whole thing. With the exception of one person who I knew in high school, I don’t actually know anybody else who stutters. This effort should hopefully change all that.

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