My speech was normal until the age of six. Then somebody let off a firework behind my back taking me completely by surprise. The experience had an instantaneous, enduring effect. I immediately started developing speech problems - first with single words, then whole sentences. Though my mother was very concerned, no one understood why it had happened or what could be done to help me. Neither my younger sister or brother developed a stammer - and I could still read out loud from books without any problems. I could also sing a song freely, without stammering. My GP thought I'd grow out of it.
Yet in conversation, I struggled endlessly trying to string a coherent sentence together. My school teachers and friends accepted this sudden change, but I felt very singled out and alone. I couldn't articulate sentences or converse out loud with anyone. Forced to take a back seat in conversations, I'd often simply reply yes or no. After three years of continued suffering, my GP recommended speech therapy sessions then, hypnotherapy. But neither helped alleviate the constant stammering.
Throughout my teens and adult life, I felt I was always going to suffer - that I had this affliction for life and that every day, simple chores would always be problematic. Even catching a bus was a nightmarish ordeal because I couldn't articulate my destination. I would also write shopping lists to give to sales girls or just point at things that I wanted from a shop. It was very humiliating. I was always aware of people reacting strangely towards me.
I never knew what words would get stuck in my mouth. It was all quite random - and intensely frustrating trying to articulate a particular word. Worse still, was not being able to explain my feelings to anyone because I couldn't speak clearly. Instead, I internalised all my feelings and thoughts.
I had no self-confidence or self-esteem - and no courage to pursue things I wanted to do. Not surprisingly, it affected my career and work choices. A personnel officer once commented that only factory work would be suitable because my stammering was so severe. Naively I accepted that this was my fate - to be kept out of the public eye. Consequently, I was quiet and detached at work.
I was so desperate to hide my stammering that many colleagues thought I was either very aloof or a total snob. Whenever I did speak, I would see awkward, embarrassed faces staring back, uncertain as to how to respond.
When I married at 20, my first husband had been part of my circle of friends and had grown accustomed to my stammering. Even at the altar, it took an eternity to say my marriage vows. It was never an issue between us, though when we started a family I was concerned how it would affect my children.
Thankfully, as they grew up, both my daughter Tracey, now 30, and son David, 31, never referred to my stam mering at all. They just accepted that was how their mother was - that I had problems with words and names, especially those starting with the letters B, M, W, T, or L. I couldn't even say my own name.
Inevitably, I developed a good knack for listening so others could hold and dominate the conversation. I would never talk just for the sake of it. Instead, I would carefully consider every word before speaking. Despite the marriage only lasting six years, I have never blamed my speech problem. I had long accepted the stammering was a part of me. Though when I married again at 34, I regularly wished for a miracle cure, for years I didn't know where else to go, or what else I could try. There was no help on offer and little other option but to suffer in silence. Stammering was something that society had not fully recognised.
Then last year, for the first time I met a recovered stammerer. He had completed a four day intensive course, the McGuire Programme, using breathing techniques and concentration to overcome his speech problems. At first, I almost cynically dismissed his case as a hoax. He was totally fluent and completely in control of his speech. Run throughout Britain by recovered stammerers, the programme helps sufferers become eloquent speakers through diaphragmatic breathing and concentration training to gain fluency.
Just before Christmas I signed up for a course in Bournemouth with 25 new students. Each was assigned a recovered stammerer - all of them former programme graduates - as an instructor. On the first day we made a video of ourselves so that we could see how much we stammered. Next we concentrated on breathing techniques - filling our chest and lungs with air, then breathing out, practising speaking on top of the breath. Within an hour, I noticed an immediate effect on my speech - it was incredible.
Over the next four days from 9am to 11pm, everything clicked perfectly into place. We learnt how to pause to control what we wanted to say, to think of words, then formulate a whole sentence before speaking. We learnt how to maintain eye contact while talking using the breathing technique, to aid concentration and control over words. On day four, we were allowed to speak to the public. I talked freely to strangers in the town - in shops, on the street. I stood up in front of more than 100 people in the town's square, and talked without a hitch. It was the most magical, emotional and exciting experience.
A whole new world opened up to me. For the first time since childhood, I no longer struggled with words. I can say my name and address without stalling. I can talk to anyone and use any number of words randomly. It feels like a miracle - the sudden transformation from a virtual mute to a fluid, confident talker.
It's been a completely overwhelming experience for me and my family. At 51, I feel my life has changed dramatically - as has my outlook on what I am capable of achieving in the future as a recovered stammerer.
Information and advice: the British Stammering Association (0181983 1003) The McGuire Programme, Bernadette Bailey, PO Box 1081, Nailsea, Blackwell, Bristol, BS48 3YJ (freephone 0800 6940399) Books: Helping Children Cope with Stammering, published by Sheldon Press, £6.95 Coping with Stammering for Adults, published by Sheldon Press, £6.95 Websites: www.stammering.org (Run by the British Stammering Association.)
