Recovery, philosophy, mental health, things that interest me, and random poetry.
I am an addict. I’m a promiscuous one as well; I don’t have any brand loyalty. Some people don’t believe in an addictive personality. Since I possess one, I tend to disagree. I have spent my life looking for ways to alter my mood, to make me either not-me or absent in my head and …
I thought it was a loose crown. It was only put on six months ago, one of four treatments I could finally afford; three implants and a crown on one of the root canal victims. I like my new teeth and my crown. My cheeks no longer look like they’re collapsing. I can chew solid …
...It is shocking to me how much time not participating in my eating disorder takes up. How much specific and cognitive work goes into the process. I spend a lot of time having conversations with myself...
I was thinking about uploading to Google Docs a draft of a book I wrote with an eye to asking someone to take a look at it. I know Google is an easy way to share documents. That is, I sort of know it. I’ve edited documents other people have posted and sent me invitations too, mostly works that I had published and needed to have a final look at. I’ve not, however, set up a document myself and I’m a bit nervous. It occurs to me that hesitation and trepidation are a big change to my historical behaviours...
A friend posted a meme on Facebook that caught my eye. It stated, “You can never truly feel at home in a body you view as temporary.” She prefaced the post with the following question: “What if the body you have today is the one you have to live with?”
An eating disorder is a destructive thing but also helpful in an odd, dysfunctional way. It acts as a kind of support structure. It’s scaffolding. It’s the glue that holds everything together when the emotions seem too difficult to manage. It locks up the pain, the misery, the anxiety, the inferiority complex, the self-hatred and all the neuroses and keeps them barricaded away so you don’t have to deal with bad feelings...
I had a mammogram this morning. It was not an auspicious start to a Friday. The day gets worse when you get a call not two hours later from a nurse at the breast clinic, telling you “the radiologist has some concerns; can you come in Tuesday morning?”...
