CRITICAL by Jenora Vaswani
I live in your head— the voice that whispers, ‘No, you can’t,’ the eyes that smirk, ‘Those jeans won’t fit,’ the lips that simper, ‘They won’t hire you.’ It’s been a pleasure knowing you. Remember when you couldn’t leave the house because your heart wouldn’t slow, your breathing wouldn’t steady your eyes wouldn’t dry, your hands wouldn’t still Remember when you couldn’t look the cashier in the eye because you felt too ugly. That was all me, baby. You’re welcome. It’s nice to take the credit for you hating yourself for complaining, for not caring about that row with your parents, about your sister’s breakup, because, darling, how could it ever compare to me? I’ve turned you into a monster. You can’t even feel spilt tea across your lap. Don’t you realise? There’s no escaping me. There was nothing but us.
But don’t you worry, honey. I’ll be there until the day you run that marathon, until the day you get the job, until the day I drift
into oblivion. Jenora is a sugarloving elf who takes the occasional venture into the dark forests of mental health and illnesses through fiction. She can usually be found sipping tea with an open book nearby or drifting past bookshelves at the local Oxfam. Take a look at her website at openingdoorsofperception.com.
From the Lighthouse's third issue, June 2016, themed around 'move'.