Personal Prompt: Write a letter to your illness or condition.
Ahh… Which one?! Pick a condition… Pick a condition…
While in many ways I consider you the least of my concerns, in many ways, you are the cause of all my problems.
If someone had said a few years ago I was an “anxious” kind of person, I would have laughed hysterically at them. Back in the days when I laughed. Lol 😀 But it turns out I am an anxious person. It’s kind of hidden anxiety – I wasn’t allowed the luxury of being anxious when growing up. I hid it behind shyness or quiet or being a good listener, or being nervous, cowardly and lazy – depending on the situation. In fact, most of these are just synonyms for anxiety as it turns out. Or coping mechanisms – depending on the situation.
According to the Mayo Clinic, “Anxiety is a general term for several disorders that cause nervousness, fear, apprehension, and worrying.” I often felt nervous – but usually in performance situations. I feel fear on a daily basis – not of things people are normally afraid of, but fear of failure and being fat and ugly and of being not good enough. And I worry – endlessly, endlessly worry. So it turns out I do have anxiety! Who woulda thunk it?!
But what have you done for me Miss Anxiety? Well let me tell you… You’ve made me question every decision I’ve ever made – nothing I’ve done has ever been enough. Not enough practice. Not good enough results. Not thin enough. Not nice enough. Not clever enough. Just not enough. Being not enough, takes away my happiness. I am constantly seeking to be a better person – to be thinner and prettier and richer and smarter and more creative and kinder and more helpful – but there is no end. There is NO END. So in the end, my happiness went. And alongside anxiety, I now had depression. But you know what else? All those years of not being enough, but not allowing myself to be depressed, I had to come up with some way of shoving down the misery so I used gluttony and purging and all the disordered eating behaviours to numb the dread and the sadness. So my constant companion, you are what has allowed depression and bulimia to grow and flourish in my little world, and without you, they could go away.
So – while I barely ever give you a thought, and I often think you’re not there, really I’ve just given you another name. While you take up residence in my head, there is no room for serenity and acceptance. So you’re on notice – eviction order on it’s way… New residents sought.
Buenos Noches Querida
Creative Prompt: Ask a friend or a family member to give you 10 random words. Write a 5 sentence story using all 10 words.
Lol! I asked two people for five words each. I got an eclectic bunch!
1. Poppy was just 12 years old, on the cusp of womanhood and blissfully ignorant of the grievous error almost committed.
2. On the eve of her birthing day, she had been gifted a greystone tripod, each leg thus inscribed: beauty or wisdom; peace or hope; colour or love; CHOOSE.
3. Caught between worlds like a mosquito in a web, Poppy’s choice would send her to the place that showed her deepest heart wishes and truest soul colours.
4. As she fell into a fitful sleep, she was fearful of her choices and anxious to discover if her true self was as honest and virtuous as she had always pretended to be.
5. In the light of the new day, Poppy quietly emerged from her concrete prison and placed a gentle foot upon the glowing orange stones – joy spreading across her young face as the trials of the previous night dissipated into the darkness behind – her heart was true.