The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock- Tony Arines

As I was reading the poem and learning about Prufrock’s anxiety and indecisiveness, I couldn’t help but think about my own problems with anxiety. There are definitely times when I stop myself from acting because I am overthinking or worried about what will happen. In Prufrock’s case, his anxiety leaves him virtually paralyzed. He hears that there are women talking about Michelangelo and finds this enticing, but can not bring himself to join the conversation like the yellow fog stuck outside the window pane. The last time I overthought that much, I was in middle school. I grew up really poor and had a lot of insecurities. I didn’t have the best clothes and wasn’t always well groomed. I specifically remember an event where the teacher adjusted the seating chart and a girl I liked had to sit next to me. I was overwhelmed with joy, but like Prufrock, I kept thinking and telling myself that I had time. I would go a whole day without talking to her and at the end of the day, I would make myself feel better by reinforcing the belief that I had a lot of time. In reality, I was really shy and worried that she would judge me based on my looks. I didn’t have a lot to offer, but she was my first teenage crush and I was eager to impress her. The social anxiety finally wore off when the school held its annual talent show. We were both in the art program and it let us be together and work on something we both loved. While Prufrock may seem like a weak and foolish man, he suffers from the same emotions we do. He knows that he is not young anymore and lets that worry override his thoughts. It is hard to be confident when you are not happy about yourself to the point that you don’t think “mermaids” will sing for you. He describes himself as an insect being scrutinized and judged by people and wishes he were a “crab scuttling along the seafloor with his ragged claws.” There are times where I also feel judged and would rather be far away in a place like the seafloor. This feeling usually subsides and I get on with my life, but it seems to really affect Prufrock to the point where he’d rather be an animal and not be a part of society. I assume that I will deal with similar issues when I’m middle-aged especially if I start to bald. I don’t think it will make me paralytic, but it will definitely remind me of the feelings that Prufrock expresses throughout the poem. He, just like any other human, wants a partner that he can connect with and feel happy around.