You have to eat, even when you’re afraid.
Sometimes, I think if I take off the reins, the urge to eat will take over my world.
I know where it comes from and what drives it, this feeling that I can’t ever consume enough. This feeling that if I start, I’ll never stop.
It’s from the eating disorder, from a lifetime of restriction and deprivation. You can’t undo what’s been done. I can’t go back in time and eat the food now I didn’t eat then. But I worry that without the restrictions I still have in place, I’ll try…
Continue reading You have to eat, even when you’re afraid.
Who decides it’s wrong?
The grass surrounding my house is not going to win any awards. It will not be featured in a lawncare commercial unless someone needs a “before” picture. It is neither lush nor soft, it does not have the deep green of the Irish countryside… Continue reading Who decides it’s wrong?
Weak-ass hugs.
I’m not a hugger. I don’t like hugs; I never really have. My mom tells me I’ve been “hands off my body” since I was a child… Continue reading Weak-ass hugs.
Take a breath.
I was lying in bed the other morning, not sleeping but also not eager to face the day, when I heard thumps coming from the other room. After some internal debate, I decided it probably wasn’t zombies and got up. I expected to find my cat doing something she ought not to be doing, knocking over plants, perhaps. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be a small bird – a Toey – bashing itself on the window in a frantic attempt to escape.
Poor, desperate, little thing…
Continue reading Take a breath.
