& her name is

Before I share this with you, let me give you a bit of context.
This is a snippet out of a whole series of short stories I'm considering writing, all with the title '& her name is'.
Focused on a wide range of emotions, my aim was to both give people some insight into what goes on in a complicated mind and give those of us with said complicated minds, something to relate to.
Even if it's only in the sense that you think I'm a complete weirdo and that makes you feel a little better about your level of weird.
I don't mind.
Take it however you like, tell me if you like it, tell me if you don't.
Ask questions, tell me what I could do better, tell me what you like.
Help me learn more and I will keep you all updated if I decide to try and make something out of it.



She got so lost in her own mind sometimes that she’d briefly lose control of her actions in the present.
Little things like how she was so cautious about eating as a child, that she would always have to poke her food before she ate – a weird little way of checking the texture beforehand to make sure it was cooked.
She had a deathly fear of eating uncooked meat, the thought of a foreign, unexpected texture in her mouth made her want to scream down the walls and purge her body of everything that resided in it, just in case it had been tainted.
Food had been used as a weapon against her at the most vulnerable of times and left a scar on her that she was destined to stare in the face three times a day without any adversity, less she be labelled ‘sick’.

Following this thought train, she would involuntarily poke the food that had just been placed in front of her, snap back into this reality as she is snatched off her thought train by her body doing something it wasn’t supposed to, remember that she is in control of said body and it could almost be considered dangerous how far she rides her thought train into the depths of her mind sometimes.
She then shyly looks around to make sure no one saw her strange inner child-outburst and then goes on to pick at her food, forever feeling like it could very well be the worst thing to happen to her to date if she encounters anything in her food that isn’t supposed to be there, even though she knew full well this definitely wasn’t the case.

She can’t for the life of her remember what it might taste like, but she doesn’t want to ever be reminded.