>It's a self-fulfilling prophecy; I'm afraid the word won't come out, which makes me anxious, which makes it impossible to get the word out. Ha, this is so true. I mean, a block is going to happen regardless, but we can absolutely psyche ourselves out about it. Once when I was in my early 20's, I spent 8 hours trying to order a pizza so my husband would have one when he got home from work (this was ages before online ordering became a thing). I'd prepared the entire day for it. At one point I even tried to pre-record myself. By the time he got home, I'd worked myself up so much about it that I couldn't talk at all. Dwelling doesn't serve us well. > The obvious solution would be to just tell them that I can't get the word out. However, the problem with this is, it would be extremely awkward for both of us. The conversation would more or less come to an end, because the person I'm speaking too wouldn't know how to react. But please don't feel this way! I would absolutely just lay it all out. "Oh man, this word is super hard for me to say, bear with me!" You're giving them a cue to wait for you and be patient. You're taking some anxiety off *yourself* because now you know that *they know* to be patient and wait. Some of the pressure is off. Gives you time to strategize and reload. I saw in your other comments that you're quick to give up. Stop that. Go ahead and stutter. In fact, look at the possibility of a life ahead of you with this stutter. Imagine you'll do it all the time, always, until the end of days. And accept that. Come to terms with it, learn to be okay with it. Throw a funeral for your hopes of smooth, perfect fluency, whatever you need to do. I took up writing fiction, for instance. But imagine this stutter is a part of you, as tangible as a fifth limb. You don't have to love it, you just have to learn to not hate it. And then, once you stop hating and avoiding and being ashamed of it, you're going to see an increase of fluency, I 110% guarantee it. Your anxiety is going to lessen, your fear is going to lessen, you're going to free up a lot of energy that can now be spent overcoming your disfluency, all because you've accepted the worst. You're still going to be a stutterer, undoubtedly, but you're not going to be tearing yourself up over it, and it's going to improve. An improved stutter is a lot better than the life-long, constantly severe stutter you've already accepted will be your future. My biggest problem with my friends and family in regards to my stutter is that they want me to talk *more*. They always say, "Your stutter doesn't bother me, I don't care!" And I believe them, they've seen my stutter at its very worst, because I haven't been convert for over a decade. At some point I came to the realization that my stutter bothered *me* more than it bothered *them*. Most people don't care. They don't. They will stand there and watch you experience a block for a whole minute, and the only thing they'll be thinking is, "Is there anything I can do to help?" That's a pretty warming thought.