My stutter had been so bad some years that I felt like I effectively couldn't talk. Even at my worst, it was hard being mocked by people who I liked and who I'd hoped to befriend. It was the very worst sort of ridicule: baseless, careless, and casually cruel. I have found a few things—and it's very different for everyone, so no promises, simply my experience. First, people who put you down the most are the ones who are most afraid of their own social position, regardless of how confident or settled they may seem to you. I found it painful to avoid them, but it was necessary. If it was a popular kid sitting on the bleachers, I'd never approach him again on my own. If it was a pharmacist at a drug store, I'd never return there. I locked a lot of doors because I didn't have the strength of heart at the time to witness other people play around at slamming them on me. Second, and this is a highly tactical one, I found a few words which were easier to say than others, as many of us do. Anytime I had to say something, I'd half-mutter one of the easy words and ride that into whatever I'd actually wanted to say. People thought I had some odd habits, though at least I was speaking. Third, never underestimate the people who may be willing to give you time and space to be who and what you are. Every time I had a short exchange with someone who let me get through a sentence without finishing it for me, whether or not they did in fact that same thing at least once in that same interaction, in parting I'd thank them for their patience. I like to think that contributed somewhat to the patience these same people would end up providing me in the future. It made them feel good that they were being seen, and at the end of the day one of the most painful realizations was that it wasn't all about me. As wounded as I felt and as aggrieved as I'd become, other people still have no way to stare into the yawning abyss of our own discouragement and measure it against their own. Earlier on, it felt like I was carrying the weight of the world, and everyone else could leap high enough to nearly take flight. But no matter how oppressed I felt, breathing my small winds of encouragement onto others still served to lift them, and over time they'll remember you for that. I guess my overall take is that being kind—and stepping back from haters, even if you love them—has served me better than nearly anything else in my life. Hope you're feeling better as the year progresses. Life can get better, I promise.