Free-form posting.

It’s not that I’ve not been writing. It’s that I hate every word and send my attempts to the electronic paper shredder in the sky. All of it was meandering crap I couldn’t bear to look at. Pointlessly pointless. Unfortunately, regular deleting has a deleterious effect on productivity. New plan. No deleting. Post the less …

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Dark corners and crafts.

[Trigger warning. I reference self-harm. It might be disturbing.] I have a vague headache and I’m deciding between marijuana and ibuprofen. The numbed-out life has an appeal. I didn’t eat breakfast until about eleven. Definitely headache-contributing behaviour. I wasn’t hungry. I’m never hungry these days. That doesn’t stop me from rage eating compulsively every now …

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This is depression. Again.

I can’t sleep. I can’t write. Except, of course, I am writing. And I sleep some. Fits and starts. Fifteen minutes here, two hours there. Awake in-between. Awake so often. I have permanent bags under my eyes, something the self-loathing of the eating disorder loves to latch on to. It’s because I’m fat, of course. …

Continue reading This is depression. Again.