recovery and growth, things that interest me, occasional deep-thoughts, and semi-regular poetry
I wish I didn’t care about anything but myself. It would make life a lot easier to navigate. I bet people who truly don’t care don’t suffer from mood disorders. I care about so many things I even anthropomorphize. I get guilt if I don’t rescue a worm from the sidewalk. What if it’s scared or frightened? I worry if I don’t acknowledge both of the stuffed animals that sit on my desk; I’m afraid if I pet only one, the other’s feelings will be hurt...
I’m having a bad day and it’s only seven thirty in the morning. Everyone gets bad days, I know, but it’s problematic when the bad days pile one on top of the other even when there’s nothing wrong. Especially when nothing’s wrong. You look at your life and point out all the positives and the only internal response is “so what, who cares, why bother?”
When I gain weight, a part of recovering from my eating disorder I find difficult, it hits the female body parts first. My breasts and hips and thighs show the weight gain before it appears anywhere else. My body type is on the curvy side and I’ve always hated that fact. Bones and angles have long been my goal. Nothing feminine to see here folks, so move along. I doctor years ago suggested that for some, an eating disorder is a rejection of being female. I mocked his assertion but now I’m not so sure...
I’m trying to quit smoking. And by trying, I mean I think about quitting smoking, but I don’t do much beyond cutting back a bit. If it gets uncomfortable, I go back to previously established levels. A favourite quote of mine is, “Nothing changes if nothing changes.” A good corollary would be, “Nothing changes if you don’t really want change.”...
I binged and purged last night. It was the fat thoughts. I’ve gained about ten pounds and the weight that is supposed to help me is killing me, or at least that’s what it feels like. Thinner, thinner, thinner is all I think about now. Diet hard, exercise. Forget quitting smoking, forget friends and family. Forget writing, forget recovery, forget life. Forget everything but getting thin, back to bones...
