My Demon

I have a demon inside me, she has long hair that always gets in the way, and her face is all jumbled up and backwards. She doesn't talk often but when she does, her words don't make sense.

She holds on to me and goes with me everywhere I go, even if I try to leave her behind. I will always have her with me- she will never leave. She is part of me.

When I read she covers one of my eyes so that some words look incorrectly spelled, while others look fine. When I write she dance's in my mind picking up the words I want to write and throws them up in the air, they land in one big pile, confused and out of order. Sometimes she will play a game when I write, where she will toss random letters into my words- she thinks it's very funny. Most of the time I don't even know she is doing it.

She is most happy when I am stressed or rushed, because I haven't the time to sort out the mess she leaves in my head, and she can work her mischief unchecked. When I look at my finished work she spills doubt all over my mind, covering every thought with sticky uncertainty, so that I can't remember how some words are spelled, or how others are pronounced. She makes me hate my own work, and makes me think everything I write is wrong. She tells me that I should give up. She tells me that others will laugh at me, she says that they will never understand me, it is an argument that I have with her every day, sometimes I win the argument- and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I do give up, it is on those days were she is strongest.

Dyslexia is the name of my demon.