A smashed staple gun.
In case I didn’t mention it, I dropped one of my medications. In coordination with my doctors: I didn’t go rogue. If it turns out I did mention it, welcome to the update. * There’s been some good. The dread that accompanied the pill-taking is gone. I didn’t realize how heavy the burden had become until it was lifted. But good girls don’t complain. I’m … Continue reading A smashed staple gun.
Poorly designed experiments and good eyebrows.
My eyebrows are on fire. Obviously, not literally – that would be horribly damaging and I need more scars on my face like a fish needs more water. What I mean is, my eyebrows are looking up. Sigh. Again, not literally. But they’re thicker than they’ve been in a while. This is a good thing. Eyebrows are an important fashion accessory and the thicker, the … Continue reading Poorly designed experiments and good eyebrows.
Levitating, in a “sort-of” fashion.
You levitate, you know. Gravity only mostly works. It’s only mostly working on you right now. I’m aware I sound like I’ve followed a bad YouTube thread; my counsellor’s pregnant silence when I first shared my thoughts was telling. But I have my usual amount of marbles and I didn’t join a cult*: there are no ravings about fake moon landings or interstellar mushrooms in … Continue reading Levitating, in a “sort-of” fashion.
Recovery, lying, and intergalactic attacks.
I’m feeling better on the depression front. Depression ends much of life’s momentum when it’s in the ascendancy so it’s good that it ebbs and flows. And since, to paraphrase the immortal Timmy, it’s currently flocking the other way, I’m writing again. When I can get a word in edgewise. Depression’s wane gives my eating disordered thinking the opening it was looking for. It’s not … Continue reading Recovery, lying, and intergalactic attacks.
