The good thing about hard times is they make us philosophical. Very little helpful philosophy comes from a week at a tropical all-inclusive, except that one should balance water and alcohol carefully, and sunscreen is never a bad idea. I noticed the misery-philosophy connection early on. I made any number of philosophical insights in the window between bingeing and throwing up: bulimia is a powerful … Continue reading The trees are making me feral.
I like the delete button. It solves the anxiety that comes when a piece is out of control and heading off the rails. I couldn’t make it do what I wanted. It was a literary teenager, all sulky and willful. Select all and goodbye. I don’t want to write about the arguments I have with my eating disorder on the semiregular. A quick survey of … Continue reading Talking to the house.
I try to be a good person. It’s not always easy: I’m a little bit evil. Not evil-evil. Not “enslave a race and destroy an old-growth forest” or “bring back bell-bottoms” evil. I’m more “scathing social media comment” evil. I’m Twitter-mean-evil. Still, the zingers burn my soul. They bring existential angst. Can I call myself a good person if I mock an obvious racist’s grammar … Continue reading Karmic anvils.
Eating disorders are about “shoulds,” but the rules turn into bars that trap you. I’m escaping: I’ve been easing my way back to the real world, but because some of me is still captive, some of the behaviours remain and try to exercise influence. They offer opinions on how I’m “supposed” to live my life. There’s a “correct” way to do things (I know this … Continue reading Carbs and Cages.
From Famine to Feast 