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.
Sometimes you get surprisingly good stuff from stream of consciousness writing. This was easily tweaked into something I really wanted to share. Read on below.