Saturday, January 20, 2018


Last week I met Shannon McLeod, a young poet whose work I didn't yet know but am now loving. I especially love "Enid."

Shannon McLeod

Last week, my therapist suggested we put a name to my anxiety.

During our conversation, just for an example, she called it "Enid." She said I could change the name. She suggested I give it a name with a more repugnant association.

We named it so I could see illness as an enemy, a separate entity, rather than me.

I cannot think of anyone I hate as much as I hate this part of myself.

Hello, Enid.

published by wig leaf

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