Living life with mental illness. Living life post eating disorder. Living life.
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. Everybody loves recovery. Just saying. And while my bulimia hides its secrets like a fairy ring, it lives... Continue Reading →
An “off-the-cuff” entry. It’s been a while. [i] I started today with a near-panic attack which sounds like a good thing to everyone who doesn’t suffer from panic attacks. “Near” is still gross. I couldn’t find my purse this morning. I wanted yesterday’s receipts to record in my ledger. [ii] This is the problem when... Continue Reading →
Sometimes, the blog feels like a gentle prod. Other times, it feels like a four by four swinging at me. Get something done here. Engage. Write. She's very aggressive. Kind of a nag. Perhaps an update about works in progress will appease whatever gene sequence turned on when I pressed publish the first time? It's... Continue Reading →
(I have plans to write things relevant and recent. I have notes on my desk and thoughts in my head. I jotted something down in my journal the other day, aided by my decision to toss the diary I'd started but couldn't love. Happiness is a spiral binding, at least when it comes to me... Continue Reading →
From Famine to Feast. 