I struggle with general anxiety disorder, which can manifest itself in unpleasant ways. For years, my main coping skill was my eating disorder. It’s hard to obsess about anything else when you’re bingeing and purging. Eating disorders, however, get you dead, and though I’ve tried to “shuck off this mortal coil” while in the pit of despair, I mostly don’t want to be gone. Enter … Continue reading Reblog: A Nickel For Your Presence.
I was walking to the corner store to buy candy with my meagre allowance one bright summer morning, skipping cracks because who wants a mother with a broken back, and when I looked up, I was fifty-two. There’s a lifetime in the gap, but I forget all too often the history in my history, focusing only on the ugly bits, which, excluding the eating disorder … Continue reading Criticism or celebration?
I’m not journaling. The pretty notebook I use to share my thoughts and feelings in lies nearby on the floor. I’m only feet away from getting it done, but my avoidant-urge is strong, my counselor’s admonishments about the importance of letting things out notwithstanding. I’d blame my depression, but using that as an excuse when it’s a chronic condition is as valid as blaming my … Continue reading Not journaling, definitely not crying.
I binged yesterday. Except I didn’t. That is, I binged, but it was a regular binge, not a bulimia binge. The difference is in quality and quantity, both important factors. Quantity especially. When it comes to numbers, a bulimic binge can be a different kind of animal. [i] I remember listening to my friends as they talked about their pig-out sessions. A whole bag of … Continue reading I binged yesterday.
From Famine to Feast 