The Written Word

[sae]

If you were to miraculously run into me in person (let's forget for a moment I am a recovering shut in) you would meet someone clumsy and well... a bit stupid. I don't speak well. The words from my head to my lips are often jumbled, lost in translation. Sometimes I find myself stuck on a word. I can write it, draw a picture, imagine the sounds of a word in my head, but I can't say it.
This has been worse since the old grey mattered was damaged (who knew going without oxygen to the brain for 7 minutes would make such a difference.) Today I found myself so frustrated over the word "tomato" I almost started crying right in front of God and everyone. It was a light conversation between myself and the boyfriend outside of the grocery store. I had forgotten to pick up tomatoes and I was struggling to express why I needed to go back in. It wasn't long before I was able to describe and pantomime my intent, but I was already frustrated with myself by then.
I don't speak as I write here, fluidly and long winded. I have so much to say, yet I can't say aloud even half of the things I want. I can write a long diatribe about feelings, share experiences, quips and funny anecdotes.
I have relied on the written word for expression since I was old enough to read. I read books for comfort and entertainment. My parents' attic is filled with boxes of spiral notebooks full of fanciful stories I spun to fill my hours in lieu of socializing. Within those pages I created my closest friendships with people that have never existed.
I began writing my first novel length work at the age of 9 or 10. It will never see the light of day. It was not a story for sharing but rather a story that grew with me. I finished it the day after I embarked on my journey into the real world. It was horrifying. Ending the story and saying goodbye to imaginary friends hurt so much worse than graduating high school and leaving my classmates behind. To this day I still miss rejoining the gang every evening and embarking on some minor adventure (they didn't do anything spectacular, they went to school, had a garage band, formed relationships, battled real problems and emotions in ways I was incapable of).
I abandoned this unusual method of escape when life happened. I was too busy with my family and responsibility to spend more than a few rare hours jotting down a short story. The written word to this day serves almost solely as my means of expression. I occasionally tap away at a new long manuscript, but most of my writing happens in a prayer journal or here.
I don't know if my aversion to speaking, my inability to communicate vocally is an element of my anxiety, but sometimes I wish I could just tell someone I loved them, or they hurt me, anything of substance. Daily I make it a point to say these things aloud, just to myself when no one is around in hopes one day I can say them to someone else.
Take this for what it is. I write these silly long winded posts simply because this is the only way I can communicate thoroughly and say exactly what I mean most days. Who else seems to struggle with speaking? What has helped you communicate with the world around you?

[superchick22684]

I've always been much better at expressing myself in a written format. Probably has something to do with the fact that things can be thought out and if necessary edited to clarify or change a thought or sentence. Probably one of the main reasons that I went into writing as a profession.

I've never really been that great of expressing myself verbally mainly because I'm afraid people are judging me but I've also had my struggles with potentially mild-moderate bouts of what could be considered social phobia. On a more personal note, I was in speech therapy when I was younger and while it helped with some of the pronunciation issues when I'm nervous it can become more pronounced and it makes me self conscious.

Strangely even though I don't consider myself to be great at expressing myself verbally, I've had therapists tell me that I'm pretty good at it. Probably because the more emotional I get about something the easier it seems to communicate it. Unless there's a pretty good chance that it's going to be hurtful towards someone.

I actually haven't done regular journaling in quite some time though but I'm seriously considering starting again. I need something to pour my anxious thoughts into.

[jessed03]

My brain fog meant it was quite impossible to have a conversation at times. People would look at me like I was a lunatic when I struggled to get simple words out.

Turns out I was putting a lot of internal pressure on myself and buckling under it.

Learning to express yourself again is great, I think. I mean, that's what really helped me, getting things out, rather than stuffing them in. The written word seems a great place to go; it's always there, never judgemental.

We used to get lots of online anxiety journals on here, which was awesome. That doesn't seem to happen now. Maybe Sae's happy thread is gearing up to fill that void.

[needtogetwell]

Work on the verbal expression slowly, it may come. But none the less you express yourself beautifully here in writing.

Don't worry about being out and not finding the words, happens to me all the time. Those you love you and matter the most in your life understand your struggles and undoubtedly support you regardless.

My son is autistic and my sister had a series of strokes, both of them struggle to communicate verbally, I am patient with them always, and once they relax the words come much easier.

Maybe caring less about how you communicate verbally can get you to relax and just let the words flow.