The Poison in My Veins

Creatives Section Editor, Nirvana Prasad, reflects on looking back on childhood experiences and the feelings that are elicited. 

Childhood. It’s supposed to be a good time. When you think back on it, you should remember smiles, laughter, bright colours, happiness. 

But things are never that simple, are they?

Somewhere along the way, things stop being so fun. Life starts to become more stressful, less enjoyable. Maybe when you look back, your jaw clenches with a feeling you can’t really name? Maybe your stomach churns when you see a childhood photo, remembering exactly how you felt during that period of your life? Maybe you wish you had never remembered in the first place?

Maybe you decide that you don’t want to see any photos of yourself between 20XX and 20YY?

Because when you see those photos, even though you’re smiling, all you can remember is sitting alone in the playground, begging yourself not to cry. And then crying at home anyway, because the weight of the loneliness you pretended not to notice all day is crushing your heart. The strangest part of this is that even though so many years have passed, the ache in your chest still remains. And the thought of talking about it is too embarrassing—because why are you still hung up on stupid playground drama after a decade?

But it’s not just stupid playground drama. It’s poison that was injected into your mind ten years ago and has been festering in your memories ever since. And now it’s so deeply embedded in your very being that you can’t look at an old photo of yourself without feeling disgust.

Sometimes you might even feel guilt, or regret, or resentment. 

But the kid in those photos was hated enough. 

Do they really deserve to be hated by you?