Peanut butter and banana sandwiches

"I eat a lot of peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Nearly every day for lunch, in fact, and that bothers me some. I worry over whether it’s compulsive. Eating’s difficult when you’re recovering from an eating disorder. It’s not easy or natural for me yet. Preparing and eating a meal at mealtime takes thought. Not restricting is a challenge – if a bagel would be good, perhaps half a bagel with no butter would be better. I have those conversations with my food choices quite regularly..."

who am I? – existential angst.

"I don’t find it surprising that I suffer from existential crises. I find it surprising there are people who don’t. I envy them their contentment, their unquestioning approach to life, their ability to put aside the big questions that plague me, the “who am I and why am I here and what is the purpose of my existence” questions that have always been a part of my existence..."

200 posts – thank you.

"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..."

revenge fantasies

"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..."