I don’t like being called an empath. I don’t like it a lot. I know it’s supposed to be complimentary but it makes me feel pretentious. The label makes me sound like I’m preternaturally gifted and while I fantasize about that possibility occasionally, I’ve come to accept I’m not magic. Hogwarts will not be calling. My doctor tells me I’m what they call an HSP. … Continue reading Labels can lead to a lack of agency.
I recently read “The Wisdom and Teachings of Stephen R. Covey”. I read it because I like to read and sometimes that includes things that are good for me. I frequent the same catalogue numbers in the non-fiction section of the library, checking for new and never read titles that appeal. I often strike out – a friend who works at the library tells me … Continue reading Holding people to account.
Do you know what irritates me? I am fifty-years-old. That’s not it. The “irritated” bit comes later. I have suffered from an eating disorder for thirty-nine of those years. With anxiety for all of them. Depression for thirty-three. That’s a lot of time. And I haven’t wasted it all. I have read and talked and discussed and researched. I am a font of information. I … Continue reading The expert in the room.
I have a new notebook for journalling. The timing worked out well; I used the last page of my previous journal on the last day of the month. Such lovely synchronicity. I have a new notebook and that’s an intimidating thing. I’ve already started wrong. I bought a small notebook this time – five by seven. I was seduced by its pretty floral cover but … Continue reading When the notebook is new: thoughts about eating disorders.
From Famine to Feast 