Is being tongue-tied a DSM-5 classification?

“If a man is tongue-tied, don’t laugh at him,
but, rather, feel pity for him, as you would
for a man with broken legs.”
– Abraham Cahan

I don’t even know why it starts.

We are leaving for Miami early tomorrow morning. I am making sure that the kids have all of their swimsuits, tank tops, and shorts. And, then, I realize that their sneakers are at their dad’s house. They have flip flops at my house and their sneakers are at their dad’s house.

This isn’t a big deal. Logically, I know that I can just buy them some cheap sneakers in Miami. But, I am irritated and feel spiteful about it.

It’s not about the shoes.

Of course, it’s not about the stupid fucking shoes.

I need to squat before we leave because we are going to spend at least 13 hours in the car tomorrow. So, I sure as hell won’t be squatting tomorrow.

I had a great day so far. We did an awesome snatch seminar at CrossFit HVL. I snatched to 153 lbs and had a few attempts at 158 lbs.

Why I am ruining it now?

I load 60 kg on the bar. My lower back is tight, and I figure it will warm up as I squat.

3 x 60 kg

3 x 70 kg

3 x 80 kg

I sit down and tell Nick that there is something bothering me that I might need his help with. But, when I try to tell him, I realize I am not even sure what is actually bothering me. There is a swirl of emotion in my head, but I don’t have the words to describe it.

I try. I know I’m not making any sense.

Nick says that I need to think through my emotions and figure out how to articulate what I am actually feeling. If I can’t put words to it, then it doesn’t help solve the problem.

I know this.

I have no words other than “I know, I know.”

2 x 90 kg

2 x 100 kg

My back hates me.

All I wanted to do tonight was squat.

There is 110 kg on the bar now, but I know I can’t squat it. I know I either have to stop squatting entirely or strip the bar, do some more mobility work, warm up more, and try again at 60 kg again.

But, I think, I should just go to bed. It’s almost 9:00 pm and I have to drive the entire day tomorrow.

I’m not even packed.

I know if I don’t squat today, I will be pissed off because I cannot squat tomorrow.

I sit down again. Nick is looking at martial arts clothing on the computer.

I put my head down on the table.

This makes it worse. It’s like I’m begging to feel sorry for myself.

My kids have no sneakers, I’m not even packed, I have to drive 13 hours, all I wanted to do was squat, and my fucking back hurts.

Nick asks me what’s wrong, but of course, I don’t even know what’s wrong.

I sit there with my head down and try to feel even sorrier for myself. I feel this is justified. I am sure I have somehow been wronged in some way even if I don’t know how.

3 minutes.

5 minutes.

He starts rubbing my back.

I try to relax, but I WANT to feel sorry for myself.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I don’t even have a reason to throw a pity party, and Nick doesn’t want to be invited to one.

He’s ignoring me.

Maybe that sounds stupid because he is busy rubbing my back. I don’t actually know what’s going through his mind, but I imagine it is something like “I am not going to acknowledge your little pity party because we both know it is ridiculous and without reason.”

Or maybe he is just looking at Kung Fu pants.

I know I just need to get up and do something else. I know that the worst thing I can do is sit here with my head down at the table and let the spiral of despair continue.

I pick my head up and tell him that all I wanted to do was squat. He says I can still squat and that I should do some things to make my back feel better. This is the correct answer, but I argue anyway and say that I just want to go to bed. He says that’s okay and that I can just do a quick squat session in the morning before we leave. I argue again and say that I just want to get on the road in the morning.

I’m so stupid. Of course, either of those options are good. In fact, I could do both if I wasn’t being such a stubborn jackass.

I put on the new Katy Perry song that I heard on the radio on the way home today. Apparently, it wasn’t supposed to be released yet, but it got leaked. Perez Hilton has it on his blog, of course.

Thanks to Perez, I discover that people are angry and think that Katy ripped off Sara Bareilles.

I go into investigative mode and put on Sara Bareilles’ song, Brave.

I love Sara Bareilles.

Katy Perry is generally annoying to me, but the new song is catchy and I like the cheesy message.

I tell Nick that the songs are not the same and I don’t understand why people are angry. I start reading the YouTube comments aloud to him.

I feel better.

I look up at Nick, and he’s smiling. A real smile.

He says I love you, and I say I love you and thank you, and I decide that I am done being stupid.

He goes inside to start making ramen, and I keep reading the YouTube comments.

Then, I play the Sara Bareilles song again. It’s a better song.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to say everything in my brain.

Everybody’s been there
Everybody’s been stared down by the enemy
Fallen for the fear
And done some disappearing
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly, I wanna see you be brave
– Sara Bareilles, Brave

Author: Tamara Reynolds

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