I’m someone who’s quick with a joke or to light up a smoke. I’m funny, or so I’ve been told. Dry as a desert, but droll. I have a quick wit. It’s a family trait. Too bad it doesn’t come with a kinder heart. We’re wordsmiths, and I rarely struggle with my riposte. Except when it comes to titles. When it comes to naming my … Continue reading Titles are tiring, even autobiographical ones.
The best and worst thing about recovery is the learning. There’s so much of it. I decided shortly before arriving that my last in-patient treatment was going to be the last. It was do-or-die time, not hyperbole considering both the status of my eating disorder and my recent suicide attempt. Attempts screw you up beyond the issues that got you there in the first place. … Continue reading Important lessons get repeated
I put things off. I put things off and I do it with malice aforethought. I put things off because of my anxiety. Or my PTSD. Or my humanity – I’m never sure about attribution. I get overwhelmed by requirements and obligations external and self-imposed. And when I get overwhelmed, things don’t go well for me. Anxiety rises, panic threatens, and negative coping skills shake … Continue reading Get it done. Or don’t. It’s really your call.
I don’t have a favourite song or quote. That suggests a singularity I find impossible to embrace. It’s a big world, full of ideas, thoughts, and musical offerings both shallow and profound. Favourites come and go. What we need and are drawn to varies with need and moment. I’m currently learning Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, 2nd movement for the piano. It’s lovely and will be … Continue reading It speaks to me.
From Famine to Feast. 