Living life with mental illness. Living life post eating disorder. Living life.
Life is full of lessons and you have to work hard to not learn them. I've done that in the past, but I'm going in a different direction now. It was my birthday yesterday. Some remembered and some forgot. I forgot myself until my son's girlfriend reminded me mid-week. The chaos of ill parents and... Continue Reading →
An eating disorder is like a mushroom. What you see is only a piece: the interesting stuff happens below the surface. [i] It would be better if an eating disorder was like a parfait. Everybody loves parfait. Everybody loves recovery. Just saying. And while my bulimia hides its secrets like a fairy ring, it lives... Continue Reading →
I don't think my hippocampus is back online yet. They get testy, and will sometimes go on strike when the world is stressful and the hits won't stop coming. I've had so many hits, my soul probably looks like a patchwork quilt of impact craters. On the bright side, I didn't fall back on old... Continue Reading →
I was walking to the corner store to buy candy with my meagre allowance one bright summer morning, skipping cracks because who wants a mother with a broken back, and when I looked up, I was fifty-two. There's a lifetime in the gap, but I forget all too often the history in my history, focusing... Continue Reading →
From Famine to Feast. 