Out walking along the canal with my parents on Monday, another pedestrian walked straight across us, oblivious. Narrowly avoiding collision, my father exclaimed, “Sometimes I think I am completely invisible!” This made me chuckle. It must run in the family. I seem to have the exact same invisibility cloak.
Oh my goodness, what a sight: I’ve just noticed white whiskers in my beard!
Yes, I am repetitive. I know I am. I’ll often pen the exact same post, months or years apart, forgetting I’ve already done so. Think that’s bad? You should listen to my conversations. I suppose I have limited interests, so have limited things to say. I know my stuff in my own narrow fields of …
It turns out that my self-diagnosis linking my low mood to waning testosterone levels is probably completely unfounded. So suggests my doctor. It may be that immediately after each injection, my mood is boosted to an exaggerated high, after which levels subside to normal, giving me the feeling of melancholy. But I don’t think so, …
Out wandering in the fields across the valley, my path crosses with a man walking his doberman. Momentarily, I hang back; I don’t have a great experience with dogs exercised in these parts. Sensing my apprehension, the owner feeds his hound treats from his pocket to distract it. It works, and the animal passes without …
Is my empathy broken? This the question I must ask myself after a heated row, which seemed to come from nowhere. I should stay out of international affairs, really, for I never seem to have the correct reaction. My view always seems to be contrary or ambivalent. I’m never able to take a definitive stance. …
When I was about 15, there was a door at school I would always avoid. Although it was the nearest entrance to my form room, I’d always insist on taking the longest route via another door. That was because I knew to expect harassment at the near door, my path forever blocked by other boys. …
Does anyone at all remember us? Of course not. I left every educational setting under a cloud, retreating. Never really known by anyone, so easily forgotten.
I find people talk over me all the time and carry on as if I never said a word. It happens in real life and in virtual spaces. With strangers, close friends, and family. I feel like I have no say in anything. Seems the only space I have to express myself is in a …
I have arrived at a juncture where I now question my interpretation of every single past interaction. It’s as if I need to brush my understanding of my entire life into the bin. If only I could rewind, reset.
The trouble with hot weather like this: it forces me to go out without my jumper. I feel naked without a jumper. Joking aside, psychologically, I feel they mask my misshaped body, of which I am so self-conscious. Though my arms are no longer the matchsticks they were, my torso remains the face of a …
“You don’t sound like a northerner.” This, the comment of a colleague upon learning where I was raised. “Well, I have lived down south all my adult life,” I reply. That’s approaching thirty years now. But I suspect there’s another reason for my barely-detectable accent. That’s the speech deficit that characterised most of my youth. …
Just recently, I’ve been coming to a new understanding of self, and past interactions. I must confess that it’s not what I was expecting.
The kids say to me, “You’re very grumpy these days.” Which is funny because I don’t think I’m particularly grumpy. Actually, I feel moderately happy, effects of long-lasting headaches excepted. I may have expressed very mild discontent in the face of typical teenage laziness and obtusity. But grumpy? I don’t think so. I know when …
