Content
I remember the original trauma Today I went to the barber shop because it’s my first anniversary and we’re staying together for the weekend. Shave it all off. Trim my beard. Barber gets to my upper lip to trim the mustache. Eyes start to tear up. Stress response off my spine. Involuntary movement. It always happens, but today I start thinking why that part specifically is oversensitive. I wasn’t afraid of the barber, I swear. I’ll beat him with one hand tied to my back. And the children getting a haircut who didn’t tear up. And their mother.. okay, I’m getting off track. A few hours later, it hits me, just as I hit the people at the barbershop. This was the last one, I promise. My brother threw a stone at me from like 20 meters away with sniper accuracy. Probably got lucky with that one. I’ll let him try a second time. I feel nothing at first. It didn’t hurt. Yet, I start to drip and the blood freaks me out. It’s supposed to stay inside. System overclocking. My mother takes me to the hospital. I have to get 30-something stitches on the moustache area, both on the outside and inside. No anesthesia. I was around 9-10. No sweat. My mother, standing at the edge of the hospital bed tells me not to move. It might have been the doctor. Don’t know, don’t care. I lock my entire body, sensations trying to overpower my grasp rippling across. I bite my teeth. They didn’t even give me something to bite on. I might have even felt like a wounded soldier. I’m screaming through my teeth but resisting every urge to bitchslap the doctor and sleep with his wife. Operation over. I didn’t even move. My mother singing me high praises. Took me to buy a toy. I saw a superhero figure, and I felt I had a lot in common with him that day. Over time, the nerve response from my original trauma habituates as a trigger in social interactions. Lower law lock-up, teeth tightly clasped. That’s why I have a dental midline misalignment at 26. Direction is consistent with the wound. My parents took me to see doctors, but everything checked out fine. Living in a post-war barely developing country where access to advanced diagnosis or treatment was inexistent, I was left with no answers but my own. My father used to tell me I stressed myself out because of overthinking, so I internalized stutter as my fault, and overthinking as the primary cause. I used to call in sick in primary school when I had oral exams and glue myself to the computer researching stutter in hopes I can find it before next week. It was mostly forums then. In a way, I’ve never stopped. A few years ago, I realized if I was ever going to discover a holistic approach or cure, I had to take matters into my own hands. I guess developed countries suck too. After today, I can see the path out for myself. In anticipation of my stutter, I bring to center of my attention my memory of that day. I’m laying in a hospital bed with the doctor’s wife. No, that’s later. I’m laying in a hospital bed. In front of me, I see two shadowy figures, the doctor and my mom. I feel the sensations and I’m intuitively aware it’s just a memory from long ago. My stutter wasn’t caused by trauma. My stutter is the original trauma in disguise. Stuttering has only been a vessel all along. At the introduction of the original trauma, the fear response desensitizes over time because my response does not belong to stuttering, but that day. That vision gets added into the stutter sequence and breaks the loop free. The original trauma nurtured my stutter. My stutter kept my original trauma alive. If the original trauma no longer elicits an emotional response, stutter-related behavior becomes less frequent. These two pricks have engaged in a symbiotic relationship in MY body, but I’ll get them to suffocate each other now. See, I’m still mad though. I didn’t go through all that shit only to unlock a memory and be relieved of all troubles. I have studied psychology. Neuropsychology. Biology. Chemistry. I’m studying dopaminergic event horizons. I’m adding the event horizon for flair. An event horizon is the theoretical boundary around a black hole beyond which no light or other radiation can escape, and that’s what stuttering feels like. I’m studying neurons at the action-potential level, lipid-protein interactions in membranes, synaptic transmission and synaptic reserve pools. I’m studying protein synthesis, particularly alpha-synuclein and piezo proteins, which have been identified as ion channels mediating mechanosensory transduction. I’m trying to draw a time-dependent course of disease between stuttering and neurodegenerative diseases like Parkinson’s disease, which has alpha-synuclein overexpression as primary biological marker. I’m studying the role of saliva, which contains enzymes, electrolytes, and mucus-forming proteins, and the hyoid bone as the only mobile bone in the body, connected only to muscle and located at the root of the tongue. Erratic gulping behavior may lead to improper saliva formation, afferent neuronal overactivation tendencies, and friction in the temporomandibular joint. Am I going to accept merely sleeping with the doctor’s wife as the be-all end-all? She’s probably old or dead now anyway. I read the posts here every day. I say nothing because I can’t help. I’m mad. Accept your stuttering, bro. Accept your entire body will involuntarily convulse in interactions with others and you experience a conscious disconnect from reality. Accept living with this dark cloud puppeteering your behavior. Accept not even being able to pinpoint when, why, what. I will accept fucking nothing. Here's a poem I wrote some time ago: **Rage oh Rage, I won’t turn another page** Frozen picture I hear no sound Thoughts scatter all around Overtaken No answer found \---------- I've an inner world to express So harder and harder I press And the more I do press down The less world I see around The less I see, the more I show My post-apocalyptic world. \---------- You love me so you pretend You didn't just witness the wasteland I'm a mess for you to comfort, but Comfort isn't what I seek Comfort is shelter for the weak I'm not weak, nor insecure I'm just desperate for the cure \---------- The lengths I'll go, the depths I'll seek, To free my hidden silent screams. You just wait, I'll show you how I'll conquer my stutter now. \---------- Did I not? Did I just stutter? One more day lost in the clutter There's only so much I can take Before I make the world quake What else left of me to conquer To awake from lifelong slumber? It's not death that I mind, It's the sadness in your eyes. It's the mirror you put up The reflection that makes me drop. \---------- Hear me God, for I your son Daily weaken in resolve, I was told long ago This was my riddle to solve Were this not to come true Were my quest bare needless hurt I will never forgive you, Nor ask forgiveness in return. \---------- I will never become bitter, I will sooner than that wither, Drown out voice, voice kept silent Scream the story of confinement In the solitary island Planes fly over every day Keep your hands down Do not wave It's beneath you to behave Victim for other humans to save \---------- I'm a child with his gift taken I refuse to be forsaken. \---------- I will keep working on a holistic approach and hope to find you in due time. In the meantime, just accept your stuttering bro. It’s easy. Just think happy thoughts bro. Okay, I’m out now. Just be yourself, bro. Okay, bye now.