“I’ve been having conversations with my eating disorder. They haven’t been great ones – I’ve not been enjoying them. This is mostly because my eating disorder is not a great conversationalist. She doesn’t dialogue well; she’s rude, aggressive, intolerant, and kind of mean.
She’s up in arms because I haven’t been exercising. I’ve done nothing for five days…”
“I had a look at the stats page on my blog the other morning; something I almost never do. I try not to be invested in results. I write because I feel compelled to, because it helps me, because it might help someone else, and because it lets me connect with interesting people. I don’t want to grow angst-ridden about market share.
The timing of the peek was serendipitous. The post counter has me at one-hundred and ninety-nine posts, making this number two-hundred.
I feel compelled to created something spectacular, yet, remain stymied over what to say.
I wasn’t going to write today…”
“My brain likes to go walkabout occasionally, without even a “by your leave”. I’ll be sitting or walking, even driving when suddenly, I’m back in the past, revisiting an event I didn’t enjoy the first time around.
I hate flashbacks. I hate the emotions that come with them. I felt horrid during the initial encounter, whatever it was, and I don’t enjoy reliving everything from assaults, to bad days at work, to bullying. Any opportunity my brain has to make me relive misery, it takes.
Occasionally, I’m in the author. I create memories of things that never happened, and wild imaginings of bad times yet to come. Visions of death, injury, violence and destruction abound. I feel ridiculous when I pull myself out of these daymares, as emotionally wrecked as if the event in question had occurred.
Sometimes, however, I enjoy my brain’s creativity. I like it when I construct imaginary scenarios where I fight back, stand my ground, and put bullies and abusers in their place…”
“I’ve been trying something new with my meditation, now that I’m back to doing it semi-regularly. I’ve been meditating with my eyes open. It’s an odd experience. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it; generally speaking, vulnerability is not something I do well…”