Delicacy: A Memoir about Cake and Death

by Katy Wix

Many sensitive children work out that in order to function well in the world, they must repress their enormous capacity to feel, for fear of being ‘too much’ or, worse, abandoned.

I had a feeling like I’d been born with someone else’s silence that was never really intended for me.

This is my favourite quote of the book. It has really stuck with me ever since I first heard it

When someone doesn’t think you’re smart, it’s easy to believe that you don’t have anything to say or write about, and even if you did, no one would be interested in hearing it.

But, then, depression is depressing.

He didn’t mind me being quiet, but he didn’t ask why I was quiet, either. But how can you articulate anxiety at that age anyway?

Without language, we had to say everything that was needed with our eyes and hands. My hands often knew how I was feeling before I did.

I think worrying will soothe me, but it never does. There weren’t enough hours in the day to do all the worrying I needed to do.

Illness is infantilising,

What a burden sensitivity can be,

I think about my friends and how much I care about them. And maybe I withhold expressions of appreciation sometimes, because it’s embarrassing or because I assume it’s a given.

Some people adapt to change quickly. I’m not one of those people.

One on one was easier. When two friends came round, they spoke too loudly, then started a conversation with each other and I felt left out of my own help.

I would repeat parts of the stories back to myself, reciting them like soothing bedtime stories.