Did I ask for Greek yogurt, toasted almonds, and cherries? Or did I ask for Greek yogurt, toasted almonds, and BERRIES? I'm fairly certain I asked for the latter--and no, sir, they are not "basically the same." So we're walking down the west side, right? From Chelsea to the West Village. Me, my mom, my aunt, my other aunt, my other... Continue Reading →
Dear Mind, I...I love you, I do, you make who I am, but...god, why is it so hard for me to stay that? To say that I love you? I do, I know; I must. But you cause me so much trouble. You cause so much distress. Just now you triggered the beast! You woke good ol'... Continue Reading →
Am I "less gay" because I came out "late" in adolescence? Of course not. But I feel that I'm received that way. Yesterday I was walking down the street and I decided to call a family member. At the end of our phone call, out of the blue, they asked that I not "close the doors" on... Continue Reading →
I can't move What is I'm taking up space I I I cannot sit still cannot escape the roundness of my face the flesh beneath my jaw the swivel of my hips the thickness of my thighs they shrink my eyes and punish my stature slight to begin with now with no hope Farewell, pink cloud... Continue Reading →
It's been weeks since I've allowed myself to write. More than that. About myself, that is. Now that I'm healthy my words lack meaning. Who wants to hear about how great my life is going? Good art never came from happy people! (No offense to happy artists. Hey, I'm one of them now.) I'm writing... Continue Reading →
Most of my posts these days are quite recovery-oriented, but I want to raise awareness for the uglier parts of the process. In honor Halloween (yeah yeah, I'm one week late, I know), I'm throwing it back to my Halloween in residential treatment. Below is where I was and how I felt that day: October... Continue Reading →
Thoughts and urges do come up; that's what recovery is. In treatment, we practiced a skill called "urge-surfing," also known as "riding the wave." The goal is to be with the urges: tune in, give them their space, and finally, let them go. That's what I'm doing this morning. Enjoy. 9/20/17: I'm having eating disordered thoughts right now.... Continue Reading →
I love being the skinniest girl. I love being the tiniest girl. I can't threaten that. This morning in core we did weight-sharing and Hannah, Julia, and Lily were talking about how I literally weigh nothing, but I'm so strong, and Lily said she sometimes watches me when I run and I look like a fairy "prancing." How am I supposed to gain weight after hearing that?
To me, osteoporosis and amenorrhea are my battle scars, the remains of my anorexia, an illness which I have recovered from. The wound has healed and these are the scars. I put my body through hell for two years straight; it’d be naive to think I’d emerge from that unscathed. Look, in a way, it’s good there’s some permanent damage; it’ll teach me not to dance with the devil again.