I wish I could take you to the horror center in my brain when I speak: that voice can’t be me, perhaps I’ve been invaded by body snatchers using an intergalactic language. Bungee jumping holds greater appeal than articulating certain words! Case in point: I’m in a restaurant and notice my empty water glass, triggering anticipatory anxiety. If feeling venturesome, I ask for a glass of water but this harmless little phrase doesn’t glide off my tongue as pristinely as it appears in writing. The greater my effort, the more tongue-tied I become until I’m reduced to a single word “wa-ter” or pointing at my empty glass while attempting telepathic communication. Amid this flood of frustration, remaining parched emerges as an attractive alternative.
My verbal penalties often boot me into the land of chronic misunderstanding and compel adjustments in my oration. Oppressed from expressing my inner eloquence, I abdicate the richness and grandeur of the English language in favor of a vastly abridged dictionary that requires massive downgrades in my self-expectations. I’m all too aware of my listener’s level of understanding by facial expression. I read utter lack of comprehension accompanied by resolute refusal to ask me to repeat myself, resulting in a curiously one-sided conversation that ostensibly involves two people. Even proactively restating my words doesn’t always accomplish a meeting of the minds. Anyone care for a game of charades?