Diary Of A Worrier


When I was born the nurse held me up to the light and proclaimed: “Congratulations, it’s a worrier!” It was the first word I learnt to spell, the first word I uttered in my cot, the first adjective I grasped with both hands and wrestled to the floor bare-fisted. My mum knew the truth the first time she took me to the park and saw the terror in my eyes at kids barely grasping metal bars and swinging. I just wanted to go home and read a book in solitude… Continue reading » “Diary Of A Worrier”