Nervy Nora. Photo above Kasia Rose Hrybowicz
Nervy Nora has been around for a very long time. My early memories are of nervous tensions and its inherent manifestations in my persona. Stuttering and twitching, lacking in energy, courage, and conviction. No belief in my abilities. A need for support and my difficulties in asking for it.
Nervy Nora inhibits me in so many ways.
She fights with all my performing personalities – and often wins.
Nervy Nora is an appalling nail-biter, a procrastinator, a vacillating small and feeble worm, a useless ventriloquist’s dummy –
– a terrible turn.
She is an avoider of conflict, afraid of exposure.
Inadequate and pale.
Watery eyed and frail, she is beyond the Pail.
Nervy Nora? Just ignore her.
Nora drinks and Nora smokes.
She says it’s the only way she copes!
Hunching her shoulders and holding her breath.
It all adds up to a living death.
Nervy Nora is grey and boring.
Forever complaining and blaming herself.
I cannot do this and I will not do that.
Nobody wants me, nobody cares.
Why? Why? Why am I here?
Living in fear and loathing in Folkestone? Folkestone!
Nervy Nora is small and plain, her thoughts are mundane-
rolling interminably around her brain.
Insignificant and incredibly needy.
Clutching at straws – ‘feed me feed me!’
Nervy Nora? Please ignore her.
Pretend you never even saw her.
Let her shake, let her shiver.
That’s what she wants, so go on, give her –
– the ammunition to help her wallow –
in self-pity – and swallow the pills for all of her ills.
Let her follow her nose.
She knows you know.
She is Nervy Nora.
Photo Guy Cross