Wednesday, October 17, 2012

In the Land of Gibberish

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      For the last week or so, I have been plagued by that horrible feeling in your stomach when you feel guilty about something. Even if you are unaware of the precise reason for this feeling, it lingers. Every person, I am sure, knows what feeling I mean. Children especially feel it when their parents sit them down after doing something naughty. The number of times I endured this feeling is unequivocal and even now, as a twenty year old, whenever someone calls me and needs to "talk," my mind is instantaneously overwhelmed by every single thing I've done in the last few weeks.  I search through all my words and actions to make sure I have done nothing deserving of punishment or rebuke. And until I am certain of my innocence, that pit of the stomach feeling remains and haunts me.

      This feeling has been with me for too long.

      Obviously, the theme of my blog gravitates around being "eloquently inarticulate." I struggle with my verbal expression compared to the constant flow of words in my mind. But this, you already know. What I did not know is that there are people out there who seriously live with disorders of the same nature. I knew that children and adults with certain mental disorders caused a lack of verbal communication but I didn't know that the lack can be a disorder in and of itself. I should have know this, right? Well, I lived in ignorance until reading a chapter on Communicaton Disorders for my education class.

      My feeling of guilt should be understood now. I started my blog because I cannot often say what I think. I think lots of things and I wanted them to be known.  But I am blessed and do not have a diagnosed disorder. I am capable. I communicate  and can be silent when I want. I can think of a word, a sentence, a whole overflow of gibber-jabber and use my throat and mouth muscles to produce the coordinating sounds of these words. It deeply touches me to think of people incapable of such an instinctual act.

      I take speaking for granted, sometimes. When I was little, I would run my mouth beyond socially acceptable. Even now, I find myself saying much more than needed. Although, my verbal vocabulary is excrutiatingly limited to the point where I sound like a complete moron. I abbreviate everything: "totes," "obvi," "probs," etc.etc.etc. The list goes on to an embarrassing length. And I use the same words over and over. I am a broken record of words: "practically," "literally," "sentimental" and "prime" are the top four words of choice...

      I am truly not trying to sound pathetic, but it touches me deeply to think of the minute amount of attention I heed to my verbal use and communication. I know I didn't say much about these disorders....I am no doctor, specialist, or even very educated on the matter. I am at least now aware of my failure to appreciate being able to speak. If I don't say exactly what comes to mind in the moment, so be it. I know I will eventually be capable. I know the words will come.  Others are not so lucky, and for them, I say I am sorry.

                                                            Sincerely,
                                                                    Me

P.S. For everyone who wants to recognize their blessing of words and being able to commincate, read what Taylor Swift has to say...I know, I know. It is Taylor Swift and most of you won't take her, or me, seriously for such a suggestion. But I think there is deep substance to what she says.  So my readers, speak, or forever hold your peace:

                          "Real life is a funny thing you know.
                           In real life saying the right thing, at the right moment is beyond crucial.
                           So crucial in fact, that most of us start to hesitate, for fear of
                           Saying the wrong thing   at the wrong time.
                           But lately what I’ve began to fear more than that, is letting the moment
                           Pass with saying anything. I think you deserved to look back on your life without   
                          This chorus of resounding voices saying, I could of but it’s too late now.
                          So there’s a time for silent, and there a time for waiting your turn.
                          But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say.
                          You’ll know it.
                          I don’t think you should wait.
                          I think you should speak now.” 

3 comments:

  1. Interestingly enough, when in conflict or when I feel cornered, I often find myself incredibly "inarticulate". It plagued me as a child and especially as a teen. I can remember being in trouble and being asked a question and though the words poured through my mind, I felt like a mute. Even now I often feel defenseless because I can't speak the words I want to. I suppose it's why I've always *loved* to write. My fingers don't have the inhibitions my voice has! :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was drawn to your blog by the title. As someone who considers himself inarticulate while speaking, I have often wondered if my inadequacy wasn't congenital or at the least biological (Joan Didion writes that she is "neurotically inarticulate", tempting me to claim the most pathetic sort of intellectual kinship). Many are the times when I have floundered terribly during a sentence. A few of them were brain freezes I agree. In most others, however, it was not because the brain went blank, so to speak. If anything, ironically, the brain is too busy resembling a crowded highway in such situations. I mean I can usually see what I want to say, even sometimes down to the level of individual words than the broader ideas or thoughts. It is the stitching together that is the real problem. It is as if there is this sieve between thought and delivery that blocks intelligible words from getting through. I first attributed this to stage fright or being subjected to a high-pressure environment. But it seemed to even crop up during relaxed conversations with friends. I also thought it was a second-language issue. But I fight the same struggle in my native language too. It is true that the demon is absent when I sit down to write. It may be due to the contemplative and iterative nature of the act itself where you are not required to formulate something in real time speed. The lack of spontaneity is balanced by the perverse satisfaction of settling scores!

    ReplyDelete