Monday, 14 November 2011

The Only Child (That Wasn't).

I've always felt like an only child, even though I grew up with a brother and sister.
I was always alone because they both had a ton of friends they were always out with and I spent
most of my time at home instead of school - due to having an anxiety disorder - and being stared at pointlessly by psychiatrists.
I wouldn't dare think about leaving the house without my parents, not that I really had a reason to.
So I would stay at  home, alone, but close enough to my parents to feel safe, and sometimes I would just sit there... As if waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever did, no one ever came, nothing changed.
Sometimes I would read. And by reading, I mean, everything. Every word in every book in
the house and after I'd read it, I would write it. I wasn't aware of my imagination to yet use it to write something unique, so I would copy things out of books.
Other times, I would draw. Or sit alone, make up stories and conversations in my head with people that were also made up. I would consider my soft toys my friends.
If one of them fell on the floor, I would feel guilty if I didn't pick them up.
I spent a lot of time alone. I still like being alone, but only until I feel alone.
Because feeling alone is something I don't like or want to feel.

I didn't feel alone as a child. I was pretty content with sitting there with my imagination for company.
I also found company in characters in books and animals. I liked to befriend animals.
I begged my parents to take me to the zoo... they never did. They just took me to various petting farms, where small animals were.
That was okay, but I've always had the idea in my head that the zoo was the most incredible place ever. While every other kid wanted to go to Disneyland, all I wanted to do was go to the zoo.

Not a lot has changed really. Both my siblings left home and we moved house a million times.
One other thing changed - I got less anxious about talking to people but people just weren't interested in talking to me anymore.
Kind of ironic, they would talk to me when I mentally couldn't find the strength to put a sentence together, but now I can, they don't want to know.
I still find company in the same things, I still like being alone. I still befriend animals.
And I still haven't been to the zoo...

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