Little Bit About Me - Part 1

Hello everyone.

I have wanted start publishing a blog now for some time. I feel I have a story to tell, that may help people in a similar situation to myself. Whilst also helping me too. I believe in my heart there is a explanation to stammering and this lies within each of us. I have spent my life trying to "fix" myself. I don't need fixing, fixing would suggest there is something wrong with me, there isn't. I am perfect the way I am, we all are.

I am a Landmark Graduate, Landmark is like a University for life, and I feel like its work could help many people get to grips with understanding stammering. If anyone would like any information on this please just ask and I will answer any questions you have.

I have had a stammer for pretty much as long as I can remember. My mother tells me it started around 7 years of age. This timeframe would be around the time when I woke up in bed to the sound of a number of loud bangs, and to a really strong smell of smoke. I didn't know at the time but it was the sound of my stepfather being shot dead whilst in bed beside my mother. I am from Northern Ireland, a place when in 1990 this was unfortunately, all too common.

My mother was never the same after this event, this came around 1 year after she lost my baby brother to cot death. My mother is the strongest person I know, how she survived is simply incredible.

Back to the start

I was born in a small town in Northern Ireland called Carrickfergus. Then spent the first few years of my life living with my mum, dad and older brother in a large housing estate in Newtownabbey called Rathcoole. I don't remember much about this time, it's all very clouded.

My mother and father had a turbulent marriage and they spilt up after a short time. My mother met another man after they spilt up and we moved to South Belfast in quite a nice area off The Ormeau Road. I quickly bonded with my mothers new partner and I looked up to him a-lot. He was a tough man and a real protector of this family. He was a bricklayer by trade and would have taken me to work with him on occasion, which I loved.

In 1989 my mother and stepfather had another baby son, he died after only a few months whilst sleeping in his cot in my aunts house in West Belfast. I remember my father (who we were visiting at the time) telling us in his bedroom. My brother and I broke down and wept for a long time. We did attend the funeral but I do not remember much about it, except the tiny white coffin.

Only a number of months after this event my stepfather was murdered. He was murdered by a group called the UFF (Ulster Freedom Fighters). I think this event was the catalyst for my stammer. I believe on a subconscious level I created an act where I need to "hide" from things, hide like I hid that night in my bed as a scared child.

I will continue this story in another post.