Another poem inspired by a movie I saw recently…
It’s one of the demons I struggle with.
When I’ve spoken to my mother about my early years she often remarks that I seemed to be such a happy and content child, so different from the troubled adult I seem to have grown into. I might begin to agree with her, to console her, but as I scrutinize my own memories closely I realize that I have always been of a rather nervous disposition. Even as a little girl I worried about what others thought about me and I was hit with bouts of hypochondria on a regular basis. I remember how every tummy ache sent of waves of fear that I had appendicitis and as I browsed my mother’s medical books I found new diseases to feel fearful about. With an introvert’s solemn character I studied the surrounding world closely and tried to figure out the most appropriate behavior to tackle it. When my classmates turned on me and I became a victim of bullying I never quite understood why. Any explanation is always reconstructed from adult knowledge based on vague memories.
I felt a bit dragged down and unexcited about a story I’ve been tinkering with for a few days and read somewhere about a published writer who’d dropped the story that had similarly bogged him down and just sat down to write whatever came into his head about a certain theme.
I decided to try the same and over an hour and almost 3000 words later I had a draft for a short story. I tinkered with it some more and now feel it is good enough to publish here. 🙂 I encourage anyone struggling like I did to try the same thing! It’s a fun experience to feel the story forming as you write.