My dad didn’t die on my birthday. I’m glad. It’s selfish, I know, but I didn’t want those two things tied forever in my memory. He wasn’t dead yesterday; I don’t know how things are going to go today. I love swimming. I love being in the water. As I child, I wanted a pool more than anything and I thought my parents were selfish … Continue reading When your parents are dying.
My world has become odd. I’m anhedonic much of the time. Luckily, I have practice faking it. But between PTSD and pending grief, times are tough. Add very ill parents who need daily help, my own issues, and friends trapped in their own worlds of pain, and suddenly, dissociating makes sense. Being flat keeps me safer but my creativity takes a hit. It’s driven by … Continue reading Share your world.
Life is full of lessons and you have to work hard to not learn them. I’ve done that in the past, but I’m going in a different direction now. It was my birthday yesterday. Some remembered and some forgot. I forgot myself until my son’s girlfriend reminded me mid-week. The chaos of ill parents and a life in flux put it far from my mind, … Continue reading Life lessons.
An eating disorder is like a mushroom. What you see is only a piece: the interesting stuff happens below the surface. [i] It would be better if an eating disorder was like a parfait. Everybody loves parfait. And while my bulimia hides its secrets like a fairy ring, it lives and dies by rules. The list of things you can’t do is not only legion … Continue reading What if you could?
From Famine to Feast 