What I learned from twitching, cursing, and hurting myself.

Did you know I have Tourette’s?

Probably not.

The fact that I suffer from a neurological disorder most likely has no effect on the way you view me (and if it does..fuck you, you suck).

You’re also likely unaware that having Tourette’s was the bane of my existence for nearly 20 years. During my younger years, they were what I thought about all day long. In quiet classrooms, outings with friends, sports games, chorus practices..the list goes on. Any place, any time, any where. My disorder was always on my mind. Some of my fondest memories include (but are not limited to): Constantly resisting the overpowering urge to yell, “Fuck!” in the middle of a test..while also trying to focus on the questions and score well. Destroying my vision by staring directly into the sun. Giving myself migraines from blinking uncontrollably between each passing light pole on the highway.

The worst part was just feeling like a fucking weirdo. One of my greatest fears was the thought of twitching or yelling out a profane string of words in public and being questioned by people; so much so that I’d bite at my nails, and then keep biting at them until my fingers would bleed and hurt to move and develop sores in my mouth that I’d pick at until I was on the brink of tears.

Pain was relief. Pain was exhausting. Exhaustion meant low energy. Low energy meant I could rest...but only until my brain beckoned for more pain. Then it was back to dancing with my demons.

In those brief moments of relief I was able to take a deep breath and hate myself in full capacity. I hated myself because I just wanted to fit in. I just wanted to be normal.

Do you see the problem here? It took me almost 23 years to see it for myself.

I pitied myself. I thought I was special. I thought people actually gave a shit whether or not I randomly twitched or made a weird sound out of nowhere. I thought that I was the only one suffering..that I was the only person who felt like I didn’t quite fit in.

I ruined relationships by being underdeveloped and overexposed. I missed opportunities because I wasn’t prepared to seize them when they presented themselves. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I prevented myself from actually doing the things that would have made people want to be around me. You can’t fake authenticity. Who you are speaks much louder than anything you can ever say..and I was a scared and fearful young man.

After 22 years of this cycle, I realized I was already living out my deepest worries. The fear of rejection, and the associated anxiety that came along with it were hindering me from fulfilling the potential I knew I had inside of me.

So I stopped.

I stopped worrying, I stopped seeking the approval from those around me. Most importantly, I stopped letting external sources control the way I felt about myself.

I simply decided to be me, and to love myself unapologetically.

And something magical happened.

You see, thoughts become things..and for the first time in twenty-something years I started thinking about something else other than how sorry I felt for myself. I began to put the needs of others first, and others began to willingly support my needs. I attracted the type of friends that I wanted by being the type of friend others wanted. I got closer to my family, by being the son and brother I knew I should be. I became a person that people wanted to be around, by becoming a person that I wanted to be around. I learned to love myself, Tourette’s and all.

Through this, I developed the confidence to break the mold; to follow my intuitions and to pursue my calling with a conviction that is uniquely mine.

Strangely enough, my Tourette’s seemingly went away. What was once the biggest problem in my life was no longer a problem at all. The realization wasn’t overnight, and it most certainly wasn’t an “aha” moment. Rather, like tectonic plates, shifting subtly over time..when I finally took the time to look back, everything was different. Different, but better.

So what did I learn?

Even at 23 years old, I refer to my Tourette’s as ‘they’ because my disorder has been the devil I’ve become most familiar with. My worst enemy, but also my greatest teacher.

Living with Tourette’s has taught me a lot. But most importantly, it has taught me that I’m not special.

My problem was not Tourette’s. Having Tourette’s is a part of who I am. My real problem, much like many other in my generation, was that I thought I was special. I felt entitled to the sympathy of everyone who had it better than poor ole’ Matt; who had to grow up in a well-off neighborhood in Cary, North Carolina…with two parents who loved the hell out of him...who went to a brand new middle school AND high school…and had his first part-time job at a luxury boat club.

Everyone is dealing with something..and to them..it’s the biggest fucking deal ever. They don’t have time to worry about your problems, just like you don’t give a shit about me having to deal with Tourette’s.

Solve your problem, you owe it to yourself.