(no subject)
I wrote this a while back for a local publication and thought it might be interesting here.
Feel free to ask any and all questions you may have. Remember, I have NO sense of shame or embarassment, so all questions are welcome.
Perhaps I should do a series of these, one for each of my disorders: Tourette's Syndrome, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Manic-Depression, Vitaligo, et al:
A PECULIAR ORAL FIXATION
or, Why I Don’t Swear Non-Stop
by benjamin sTone
moxy@tmbg.org
Oh yeah, I’ve got an oral fixation. It tends to happen when you’ve got Tourette’s Syndrome. Wait a minute, what exactly did you think I was talking about? You’re sick, you hear me? Sick.
In any event, my fixation comes in a number of different forms, none of them particularly related to the others. Let me get this one out of the way immediately: spontaneous and unnecessary swearing is an extremely rare symptom of Tourette’s, so don’t be that person who says that I can’t have it because I don’t call you a dirty fucker all the time. Because if you do, I will. My doctor told me that I should feel free to swear a blue streak at anybody who doubts me. I’ve got medical permission, so mind yourself.
Sure, I’ve got the occasional grunts and nonsensical syllables, and I have been known to shout “No!” at inopportune times, like during intimate moments, but for the most part these outbursts are much less frequent than my usual verbal problem of stuttering. As anybody who knows me is distressingly familiar with, I love to talk, so stuttering is a real bastard. My medication helps control it, but too much caffeine or not enough sleep and I’m lucky if I can get halfway through a sentence. Strangest of all is that I have to shun strobe lights and police sirens like an epileptic, as they tend to exacerbate my problems. After watching Terry Gilliam’s FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS in the theatre I was twitching like a crazy homeless man and stuttering so badly my face would turn red as I tried to spit out words. Not so glamorous as shouting “Fuck!” all the time, is it?
Several of my tics have long since passed, tics being the general term for muscle spasms, repetitive motions, or verbal outbursts or obsessions that people with Tourette’s display. When I was younger, before I had been diagnosed with T.S., I had a few that aggravated my father to no end, as he believed them to be learned behavior or bad habits that could be broken with the proper application of willpower. My school picture from about 3rd or 4th grade looks like I had the black plague, for god’s sake. Not only had I recently been in a bike accident that left a few cuts on my face, I’d also been compulsively licking my lips for months on end. By “licking my lips,” I don’t mean occasionally running the tip of my tongue across them. I mean licking them, and the skin surrounding them, with such violent abandon that I’d actually worn the skin all around my mouth raw and bleeding. I think a lot of my classmates thought I had some sort of virulent pox. Thankfully that was a transient, rather than resident, tic.
Another that came and went about the same time was the aggravating habit of having to repeat every sentence I spoke back to myself in a very-low whisper. My lips barely moved, so not many people noticed, but I can tell you that the novelty of muttering to yourself like a madman every time you speak quickly loses it’s charm (quickly loses its charm).
There are a few good things that come out of the verbal aspect of Tourette’s, however. Some of us tend to obsessive quite a bit with words. For example, I have words that make me happy. I have no other way to put it, other than that some words actually give me joy to hear or to say. Poultice, for example. What a great word. Just hearing it in my head as I type it makes me smile. Poultice. To my brain, it not only sounds fabulous, but it sounds like what it is. If I were charged with the task of inventing a word that meant a kind of pasty mixture of medicines to be placed on a wound to accelerate healing and reduce the chance of infection, I would have called it a poultice. Same goes for gravel. That there is a damn fine word. It sounds like tiny rocks under your feet, doesn’t it. Gravel. Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.
Sure, some words are anathema to me - like “estuary,” and “hippopotamus,” - but I’m able to ignore those for the sake of my verbal holy grail, a combination of an adjective and a proper name. “Crumbly Baumgartner.” It’s all there, the sounds, the perfect spoken rhythm, the way it all blends into one word when spoken correctly. It’s just magnificent. Okay, I’m starting to sound like an addict describing how much I love heroin, so perhaps it’s best to move on.
It’s funny how the aspect of Tourette’s that affects my life the most is the physical - like twitching my head so much that I get crippling migraines, or stamping my foot like I’m a horse counting, or having to do almost everything. from drinking swallows of water to stepping on a sidewalk, in multiples of three - but the part that is most intriguing is the verbal or speech-related side. Oddly, when I’m on stage, or giving a public speech, most of my Tourette’s symptoms vanish, especially those related to the oral aspects. The experts say that this is common amongst people with the syndrome, that when doing their job or something they truly enjoy, from surgery to basketball, the symptoms decrease to the point of being non-existent.
Ironic, then, that one of my favorite pastimes - telling stories to people, whether
they’re my own original works, or retellings of myths and legends, or just relating the plot of a book I’ve just read - is oral in nature, yet my verbal bad habits rarely if ever show their face during these times. Then again, such strangeness rarely gives me a second thought these days, as I’m usually to busy tapping my finger against my wallet three times in rapid succession or hissing out loud to give it much of my time. Next time you see me, keep a close eye on me and you might catch something interesting. But don’t make a show out of me or I’ll get upset, you dirty fucker.
For more about Tourette’s Syndrome, try the Tourette’s Syndrome Association at www.tsa-usa.org, or for a novel with a Tourettic protagonist, try Jonathan Lethem’s Motherless Brooklyn, or just write me at moxy@tmbg.org.
benjamin sTone
Current Music: “Which Will” - Nick Drake
Last Book I Read a Page of: “To Kill a Mockingbird” - Harper Lee
Last Movie: HAPPY TOGETHER, H.K., Wong Kar Wai
Next Movie: GODZILLA vs. HEDORAH (aka Godzilla vs. The Smog Monster)
Feel free to ask any and all questions you may have. Remember, I have NO sense of shame or embarassment, so all questions are welcome.
Perhaps I should do a series of these, one for each of my disorders: Tourette's Syndrome, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Manic-Depression, Vitaligo, et al:
A PECULIAR ORAL FIXATION
or, Why I Don’t Swear Non-Stop
by benjamin sTone
moxy@tmbg.org
Oh yeah, I’ve got an oral fixation. It tends to happen when you’ve got Tourette’s Syndrome. Wait a minute, what exactly did you think I was talking about? You’re sick, you hear me? Sick.
In any event, my fixation comes in a number of different forms, none of them particularly related to the others. Let me get this one out of the way immediately: spontaneous and unnecessary swearing is an extremely rare symptom of Tourette’s, so don’t be that person who says that I can’t have it because I don’t call you a dirty fucker all the time. Because if you do, I will. My doctor told me that I should feel free to swear a blue streak at anybody who doubts me. I’ve got medical permission, so mind yourself.
Sure, I’ve got the occasional grunts and nonsensical syllables, and I have been known to shout “No!” at inopportune times, like during intimate moments, but for the most part these outbursts are much less frequent than my usual verbal problem of stuttering. As anybody who knows me is distressingly familiar with, I love to talk, so stuttering is a real bastard. My medication helps control it, but too much caffeine or not enough sleep and I’m lucky if I can get halfway through a sentence. Strangest of all is that I have to shun strobe lights and police sirens like an epileptic, as they tend to exacerbate my problems. After watching Terry Gilliam’s FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS in the theatre I was twitching like a crazy homeless man and stuttering so badly my face would turn red as I tried to spit out words. Not so glamorous as shouting “Fuck!” all the time, is it?
Several of my tics have long since passed, tics being the general term for muscle spasms, repetitive motions, or verbal outbursts or obsessions that people with Tourette’s display. When I was younger, before I had been diagnosed with T.S., I had a few that aggravated my father to no end, as he believed them to be learned behavior or bad habits that could be broken with the proper application of willpower. My school picture from about 3rd or 4th grade looks like I had the black plague, for god’s sake. Not only had I recently been in a bike accident that left a few cuts on my face, I’d also been compulsively licking my lips for months on end. By “licking my lips,” I don’t mean occasionally running the tip of my tongue across them. I mean licking them, and the skin surrounding them, with such violent abandon that I’d actually worn the skin all around my mouth raw and bleeding. I think a lot of my classmates thought I had some sort of virulent pox. Thankfully that was a transient, rather than resident, tic.
Another that came and went about the same time was the aggravating habit of having to repeat every sentence I spoke back to myself in a very-low whisper. My lips barely moved, so not many people noticed, but I can tell you that the novelty of muttering to yourself like a madman every time you speak quickly loses it’s charm (quickly loses its charm).
There are a few good things that come out of the verbal aspect of Tourette’s, however. Some of us tend to obsessive quite a bit with words. For example, I have words that make me happy. I have no other way to put it, other than that some words actually give me joy to hear or to say. Poultice, for example. What a great word. Just hearing it in my head as I type it makes me smile. Poultice. To my brain, it not only sounds fabulous, but it sounds like what it is. If I were charged with the task of inventing a word that meant a kind of pasty mixture of medicines to be placed on a wound to accelerate healing and reduce the chance of infection, I would have called it a poultice. Same goes for gravel. That there is a damn fine word. It sounds like tiny rocks under your feet, doesn’t it. Gravel. Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.
Sure, some words are anathema to me - like “estuary,” and “hippopotamus,” - but I’m able to ignore those for the sake of my verbal holy grail, a combination of an adjective and a proper name. “Crumbly Baumgartner.” It’s all there, the sounds, the perfect spoken rhythm, the way it all blends into one word when spoken correctly. It’s just magnificent. Okay, I’m starting to sound like an addict describing how much I love heroin, so perhaps it’s best to move on.
It’s funny how the aspect of Tourette’s that affects my life the most is the physical - like twitching my head so much that I get crippling migraines, or stamping my foot like I’m a horse counting, or having to do almost everything. from drinking swallows of water to stepping on a sidewalk, in multiples of three - but the part that is most intriguing is the verbal or speech-related side. Oddly, when I’m on stage, or giving a public speech, most of my Tourette’s symptoms vanish, especially those related to the oral aspects. The experts say that this is common amongst people with the syndrome, that when doing their job or something they truly enjoy, from surgery to basketball, the symptoms decrease to the point of being non-existent.
Ironic, then, that one of my favorite pastimes - telling stories to people, whether
they’re my own original works, or retellings of myths and legends, or just relating the plot of a book I’ve just read - is oral in nature, yet my verbal bad habits rarely if ever show their face during these times. Then again, such strangeness rarely gives me a second thought these days, as I’m usually to busy tapping my finger against my wallet three times in rapid succession or hissing out loud to give it much of my time. Next time you see me, keep a close eye on me and you might catch something interesting. But don’t make a show out of me or I’ll get upset, you dirty fucker.
For more about Tourette’s Syndrome, try the Tourette’s Syndrome Association at www.tsa-usa.org, or for a novel with a Tourettic protagonist, try Jonathan Lethem’s Motherless Brooklyn, or just write me at moxy@tmbg.org.
benjamin sTone
Current Music: “Which Will” - Nick Drake
Last Book I Read a Page of: “To Kill a Mockingbird” - Harper Lee
Last Movie: HAPPY TOGETHER, H.K., Wong Kar Wai
Next Movie: GODZILLA vs. HEDORAH (aka Godzilla vs. The Smog Monster)