The Terror of Being Read
(Photo credit: David Niblack, Imagebase.net. Half-assed creepy filtering by me!) My stomach knots up. My chest constricts. I’m stuck in a permanent cringe of humiliation, and can’t bear to be in the same room. I seek distraction from a book or video game, but the horrid, I-could-just-die anxiety doesn’t go away until it’s over. Am I on deck to give a big speech? Standing trial? No. My spouse is reading part of my manuscript for critique. It’s ridiculous. The whole…