I was eleven when the eating disorder that had been stalking me succeeded in capture. Eleven years old and convinced that all the wrong feelings, fears, and insecurities would vanish if I could just get thin enough for perfection and protection. I knew I would be proud of myself when that day came, and why not? Who wouldn’t love perfection? I was promised a multimodal … Continue reading Embracing eating disorder recovery.
I don’t have a list of rules for living kicking about the house, though I do have “The Desiderata” hanging on a wall in the garage. I just try to do the right thing. That’s it. “Do the right thing” is the principle that defines how I try to live. I don’t always do it well: my PTSD is currently active and what that looks … Continue reading Do the right thing – an off-the-cuff joint.
I turned fifty-four this year in June and last week I started teaching myself to skateboard. I’ve always wanted to do it, and I’ve always been too scared. It’s odd – I’m fine on scooters, and I have good balance – I can hold a tree pose for minutes. But skateboards have remained a never. They wobbled so; I felt moments away from a fracture. … Continue reading If not now, when? -an off-the-cuff joint.
I like to open with a complaint. I find that complaining brings people together – we’ve all personal grievances to air. I’m cash-impaired. This isn’t a new thing for me – the complaint is so well-worn it’s coming to resemble a whine. In the early days of adulthood, I was broke because eating disorders are expensive. Now it’s because long-term disability won’t get you rich. … Continue reading If I lost everything – an off-the-cuff joint.
From Famine to Feast 