I quit smoking two years ago yesterday. It seems both longer and like no time at all. I’m not an ex-smoker who misses it. Though I’d tried before August 2020 to quit and had been unsuccessful, this time it took. I quit and didn’t look back. I wore the patch for a few days, had a few low-level cravings, and that was it. I worried … Continue reading Quit smoking or don’t, time marches on.
My mother once told me that self-inflicted wounds get no sympathy. She was probably trying to inspire a stiff upper lip as I faced unpleasant consequences, but it’s a philosophy I’ve never been able to get behind. Our most grievous wounds are often self-inflicted (unless we’re unfortunate enough to be involved in a natural disaster or alien invasion) and they need all the sympathy in … Continue reading What do you think about sympathy?
I’ve been feeling better mentally. I’m still a little insane, what with the sprained hippocampus and chronic mental illness, but I feel solid. Maybe it’s because things are chaotic? Perhaps I need dark days and misery to shine? I worry about the improvements lasting a little: I’ve felt new before. But there are changes this time that didn’t happen before. I’m not interested in being … Continue reading Clogs and plantar fasciitis.
I have thoughts. Questions, really. Let me say at the outset; I like Demi Lovato. I appreciate her honesty regarding her struggles, especially around her bulimia. That one is kept pretty quiet in the popular press: I’ve long thought it’s because vomit isn’t sexy the way emaciation is. I keep up with the Demi Lovato stories because I feel a connection. We’re of a type. … Continue reading Some thoughts about Demi Lovato.
From Famine to Feast. 