Nostalgia for the present
If there’s pain to this disorder, it is not from looking silly — that is easy to get used to, easy to forget. What’s harder is the difficulty breaking through, working your way into those hidden chambers where social transcendence takes place and lives are made. It is one thing, after all, to go passably through the motions of everyday discussion: making small talk over lunch, putting in phone calls, eking out a decent story at a cocktail party. It’s another to run fast through the tight, quieter, moonlit streets of banter or seduction using speech that feels as dexterous as a loaded bus. Of all the minor pricks and pinches stuttering has given to me over time, the only ones that still sting are the moments when I’ve watched people kick off their heels and steal into that dark maze with the realization that I won’t be able to follow them apace. To stutter is to be perpetually caught in what some people like to call ‘nostalgia for the present’.

Nathan Heller's piece poignantly describes the pain a stutterer feels. As somebody who had to come to terms with this condition, this passage in particular struck me deeply.

Today, someone shared my original post from 3 years ago on tumblr. It's worth reading this it again.

Ramkumar Shankar