I’ve blogged for a long time. I started on Blogger years ago. My site there existed until last year when I finally downloaded the posts and shut it down. It’s strange how reticent we are to close social media accounts.

I blogged on Tumblr as well – I have a page for prose and a page for poetry (I haven’t updated the latter in some years). I parallel post to the prose page, but I don’t post on Tumblr as a first choice anymore. I shifted from Tumblr to WordPress following my release from in-patient eating disorder care.

Not immediately. In the immediate aftermath, my life went to crap and I crashed into a major depressive episode. But once I started climbing out, I set up a WordPress account.

I made the shift because I’d found a blog I liked on the site, and thought that maybe I’d start blogging again, and move beyond the journal. Then get discovered, get rich, and get a Pulitzer. Without any self-promotion (or editing when I still believed in the myth of the writer savant), of course.

Blogging on this site has been a little different than my work on previous ones. It demands more in the way of multimedia. I don’t always comply.

However, sometimes I do. My son released a new album – blackout. I think it’s his best so far, more polished and sophisticated than his previous ones. I remain in awe of his lyricism. I have two favourites so far, Tunnels, and Happy Song. Enjoy.

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I’m a thoughtful person. I don’t mean I attend to other people, though I sometimes do. I mean I’m consumed by thoughts. My brain’s a busy place almost always, often not in a nice way, though that’s mostly confined to the personal section. I’m less self-critical about my intellectual endeavours. I believe I’m smart. I have less faith in my other qualities.

My fundamental unworthiness was a belief I held for a long time, informed by a whole bunch of stuff, up to and including a lack of touch in the first six weeks of life. We understand now the importance of handling babies, but I was in traction for the first six weeks of life and touch was mostly denied.

This leads to a situation where children then reject touch. I remain very uncomfortable with personal contact. A hug is a big deal from me. I have attachment issues, but it’s a spectrum problem that can range from issue to disorder, depending on the degree of severity.

I write to understand things like that. I write to understand my depression and my eating disorder. I write to understand the choices other people might make about this situation or that one. Writing, for me, acts like a funnel. I have this bit and that bit of information swirling around my brain. When I write, ideas interact and conclusions are drawn.

(I sometimes do this with thinking, but my thoughts can get highjacked by negative ruminations in a way my writing doesn’t.)

I write because I have an idea about something.

I write because I have poetry (far less often these days. Poetry is like math – it peaks in early adulthood.)

Then there’s the societal debt.

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One of the hardest lessons to learn as a human being is that we’re not that special. I mean, we’re special in our circle and to our friends and family, but when it comes to the world at large, no matter how unique we are, we’re actually one of many. It’s a numbers game. About twenty million people share your birthday.

An eating disorder tells you you’re special. It tells you that your disease is what makes you special. But disordered eating is shockingly common and the step into pathology isn’t as hard as we like to think. Eating disorders kill. Even when they don’t, they make life a misery.

Eating disorders wreck your life in a myriad of ways (as do untreated mental illnesses), across a variety of spectrums. They wreck relationships. They destroy your work life. They damage your health. There is no upside.

I had the thought that with the WordPress blog, I might be able to help someone. When my eating disorder was active, I devoured content about it. I was desperate for confirmation I wasn’t a freak. I was desperate for a way out. I would’ve done anything for a fix. Except change, which is why recovery takes time.

To clarify my thoughts, to entertain, and to maybe help others. That’s why I blog. And, because I want to.

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