Many years ago, I accepted the fact I would most likely stutter until the day I die. I no longer care if people laugh at me, because I think I maxed out of the hurt that could cause me in junior high. I don’t get embarrassed when I stutter. As I mentioned, I feel more for the person who is forced to tolerate my stuttering. I know the precise spot in my life where the 100% genuine version of me died, I can tell you the exact day. September 4, 1986, at approximately 9:20am. Since that day, I have a really difficult time viewing my life as being very worthwhile.