I was wondering today, as I talked myself down from a panic attack, how do people who don’t have mental illnesses figure out they’re under stress? How do they know if they’re in distress? They don’t have the ringing alarms of amplified symptoms to make them attend to their present reality. I only realize I’m... Continue Reading →
I'm busy doing a whole lot of nothing. It takes up a surprising amount of time. Within the nothing, I've painted the mudroom, done a bunch of exercising with the FitOn app (it's awesome and free, though I did pay twenty or so dollars for the advanced options), and met my new orthopedic surgeons. They... Continue Reading →
When I left home for university at nineteen, packed among my possessions was a journal. “A woman’s notebook, being a blank book with quotes by women” would become my first official diary, though not my last. If I’d been choosing one myself, I’d have picked something different: this one had half-size pages and a glued... Continue Reading →
The interesting part of the January blogging challenge is that it expanded my writing to slightly beyond diarist. There was a quantity of hopefully widely-applicable navel-gazing, to be sure, but less current information was shared than is my usual trend. This means that up until now, I haven’t shared that I’ve been struggling with the... Continue Reading →
From Famine to Feast. 