Don’t worry, I’m not dedicating today’s post to everyone’s favourite singing, chair-spinning reality T.V. show which coincidently is starting again soon (I wonder if the BBC will pay me for that plug…) Nor is Hayley Wright the subject of this blog (a reference for Footballistically Arsenal listeners) because that would be plain creepy. What I am talking about is… surprise, surprise… no, not Cilla Black but ME.
One of the problems that is a major part of my condition and has deteriorated over the years is my speech. I’ve said before, being stuck in a wheelchair permanently is by no means fun but I am quite used to being a ‘Wheelchair Boy’. However, the thing that most concerns me is my voice. When I look back at home-videos, it has always been a bit slow but not noticeable. Even a few years ago, I’d argue that it was difficult to see what disability I had if you looked at me waist up (I realise that’s difficult for all the girls). But now, the eyes are a slight give away but more prominent in my opinion is the slurred speech.
Some people don’t hear it and can completely understand. Others (the number is increasing) find it very difficult when speaking to me. Although it’s frustrating, I much prefer it when people ask me to repeat myself rather than pretending they understand (I’m guilty of that) or pulling a ridiculous face and straining to listen or better still, just ignoring me. Oh yeah, or using telepathy in order to finish my sentence.
Speaking differently to the norm poses a few issues for me in life. I’m so frightened when I speak to someone new on the phone. At least in real time, they can lip read to help. Also, it’s not an excuse as such but my speaking problems plus not being able to hear properly when out in a pub/club (another product of my condition) is just another reason why I never meet girls. As a result, I’m shy and when I do speak, it’s in a monotone voice, which gives out a boring, nerdy vibe.
So, that’s why I don’t have the same conversational skills as this here blog.
Bye for now!