Patience and Understanding

I’m still trying to figure me/things out. Since this whole speech/PTSD thing started, I’ve been trying to understand what is going on — particularly with my speech. And since the onset of the condition, I have struggled to understand the specific language of diagnosis and treatment.

There are often sudden advances as when Dr. Shoja casually referenced PTSD as an anxiety disorder. I’d known for months that I had PTSD when she said it, but hearing that significantly increased my understanding of my condition.

I became convinced, primarily by my speech and secondarily due to things I read in the Stuttering Foundation newsletter, that I was a stutter and could benefit from speech therapy. Now I know I was wrong.

I saw Dr. Ramage for the third time yesterday. She is the speech therapist at VGH. She told me that I don’t stutter. Her profession calls my condition dysfluency — back to the Internet where I find myself in a category: Psychogenic dysfluency.

There’s that word again: “Psychogenic.” As with my seizures, the origin of my stuttering is psychological and not physiological — more fucked than crazy.

Dwight said it yesterday: He “sees” me fighting my dysfluency and seeking treatment is part of the fight. Now I wonder if I should just give up fighting and assume that as I continue to talk with Dr. Shoja that my speech will improve.

Dr. Ramage has sent all my medical records from the Speech Clinic to the Columbia Speech Language Clinic. I’ll go there for an assessment and see if they have treatment options worthy of my time.

I’m thinking, however, that taking treatment with them — it’s a private clinic and I’d have to pay — might be a waste of money and time. I’m thinking that patience may be called for and that a year from now, with continued therapy with Dr. Shoja, that my speech may correct itself.

Startle me and I dramatically over-react. I know that my reaction is due to PTSD. I feel the anxiety outdoors and I know that that too, is due to PTSD. Now I understand my speech is also due to PTSD. That I am fucked up but… But that it is not my fault.

That’s what I have to keep remembering.

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How dull is my life? So dull that getting a soldering iron was exciting. The salesman in the hardware store gave me a quick lesson on how to use it. I had never soldered anything before but yeseterday afternoon I tried and it didn’t work.

The armature (sculptural crinoline) of my Cardinal dress has to be strong. I am using straightened clothes hangers and I have to fuse them. Some joints can be wired together; some can’t and the joints have to be strong. I have to find and try a plan B today.

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This past Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday 1,462 people looked at my blog. Nearly all of them are from France. It makes me wonder what is going on. It also thrills me to have so much interest from residents of the country of my ancients.