See that picture? That’s my toes. Pointing at a blank spot. A blank spot where my scales have sat since we renovated the bathroom about 12 years ago. (Before that they sat somewhere else…) For as long as I can remember, I have weighed myself first thing every morning – day in day out. Like clockwork. A special, comforting routine. I’d climb out of bed, empty bladder, strip naked, stare at fateful numbers.
When I was a child I was repressed. Not in an awful way – we weren’t beaten or abused or mistreated in […]
I am heading into the woods. Recovery is a journey. A journey is traversed upon a road. This particular road heads into […]
For anyone who hasn’t noticed, I have been struggling. Struggling with the concept of recovery. With freedom. With any kind of belief […]
Self-care. It’s the buzzword of the 21st century. I guess because a lot of us suck at it… There are over 242 words […]
I dream that one day I will be freed from the shackles of anxiety’s chaos. Freed from the pounding heart, shallow breaths […]
How easy it is to love. How hard it is to be loved… At the risk of repeating myself too many times, I […]
My fatigue is back. It went away for a while. I didn’t miss it. Good riddance, I thought. Then it came back. For fuck’s […]
Exercising regularly changed my life. It toned my body, turned fat to muscle, allowed me to enjoy the great outdoors, gave me a safe […]
Self compassion is tricky to master. The compassionate concepts I am encouraged to apply, were considered heinous insults throughout my formative years.
Recovery is a dream. A distant, foreign concept. A world of freedom I desperately want to live in, but struggle to believe will ever […]
I am entering into a phase of recovery (ie the beginning…) where I am doggedly determined to embark upon this road and make […]
I live in a house, surrounded by nature. I sit in bed of a morning, watching native birds sing in the tree outside my bedroom window. I can see the water. I can hear the waves. I can watch the sunrise. These things are always here. They always have been. I’ve lived in this house for 16 years.
Today I cried. I cried because I could feel the hard, solid, shell I have spent decades plastering around every inch of me cracking, leaving me soft and vulnerable, and revealing a very broken pair of wings.
When I have a cold, it’s obvious I’m sick. And when it goes away, it’s obvious it’s gone. When I have depression, […]
