Speech.

I don't remember the beginning all too well, but I was told that once I began talking, I slowly granted myself a speech impediment. There was really no reason why it happened, doctors ruled out my buck teeth and any mental conditions like retardation. The older I got, the more prominent the memories stick in my mind. Like the weeks I went away with my grandparents, desperate for friends but instead finding myself alone. I would talk to young kids my age around the pool or at the cottages next to our's, but the children could never understand what I was saying, so simply walked away, leaving me mid-sentence and embarrassed. In a way, I blame my childhood problem for my shyness that never seems to wear down and the low self esteem that screams in my head 'you're not good enough'.
Once I began school, it was even harder for me to deal with. I was often alone, coloring in the corner, while the rest of the class played blocks together and talked about their families. I remember the day my sister was born, and I was so excited to announce it to the class during the morning announcements. I stood up, and in the smallest voice possible, I told them all I was now a big sister, and that my little sister had been born the night before. But the way it came out was far more jumbled, shaky, and impossible to understand. Everyone gave each other looks, whispering about my inability to pronounce 'S's, or just outright laughing at me. I sat down with my cheeks red, trying to pretend I didn't notice all the fuss the class was making out of me. The teacher, nearly speechless, stood up, and then said 'Uhh..I think what Kristina said is that she has a little sister. Right Kristina?' and I nodded at her, secretly trying to keep the tears from exploding everywhere.
Life without being able to communicate properly is frustrating, no matter what age. Growing up with it for 6 or 7 years of my life surely made me want to shrink or just never talk again. I was never sure whether I should have blamed myself, my parents, or whatever higher being that existed, so I just blamed all.
My immediate family understood me best, but still not fully. The basics were obvious, I wasn't an infant anymore, so anything I asked for and they couldn't understand, I showed they by getting or drawing a picture, or simply finding another word for it, one with less S's and CK's. I couldn't even pronounce my own name right. At first, everyone though my problem was cute, but before I even knew it, people were scolding me for it.
Finally, in second grade, my parents got in touch with my teacher, or maybe it was the other way around, and signed me up for speech classes. Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9:30 till 10 in the mornings were no longer taken up by math and English, but instead excused from class to go see the woman who would hopefully cure my problem.
She was young, maybe mid twenties, and understanding for the most part with my issue. Our first meeting consisted of her telling me about herself, her cats which were her family, and how she loves helping children like me, and gets joy out of her job everyday. She made me aware that I wasn't the only kid in the world, or even my school, with the problem I had, and that she's seen worse cases than the 'small' problem I had. It was all meant to make me feel better, but it only made me more upset because the last thing I wanted to do was pay attention to this problem that I tried to cover up my best.
In the meetings to come, she would have me read a sentence or two off a paper she gave me while she recorded my voice on the computer. Then, once we were done, she'd play it back for me, pointing out every error and every small mistake we would need to work on. We'd work on exercises made to help me put emphasis on certain sounds and words.
Walking into every meeting, week after week, I never noticed any difference and lost hope quickly. My effort to help myself soon dropped, just like always, and it just made me more upset. She recognized this, and gave me many prep talks and lectures on how I need to fix this now, or never.
After a few calls home, and many meetings spent with my running around the school or locking myself in the bathroom so I wouldn't have to go, she and my parents had a meeting with me. They sat me down and basically said if I didn't try, I'd suffer with this awful problem for the rest of my life and would have a hard time finding jobs, friends, and other needs that everyone else was able to attain easily.
After that talk and a good grounding from my parents, I walked in to the meetings with a new perspective and drive. After endless days of exercises and recordings, she finally told me I was good to go. She thanked me for being cooperative, and that my effort really helped in the process. The sessions ended weeks before they had been planned out to, and I was finally understood. I talked correctly, people stopped laughing and started listening, and I find a new hope in myself.