CHOOSE
To eat or not to eat. That is the question.Choose. To write or not to write.Choose. Work. Sleep. Play.Choose. Delivered unscathed from the maternal womb. […]
IT’S A ROLLER COASTER
Everything we do in life, we do because it’s the thing we want to do the most at the time. When I choose to binge or purge, at the moment in time it is preferable to being healthy. I’m getting something out of it – numbing my emotions, punishing myself, weight control. There’s always something that feels like a positive – a backhanded false positive.
JUST HANGING IN
I feel like I’m barely holding on at the moment. Clinging on with my fingernails to whatever I can. I am exhausted. […]
THE CLOAK
There’s a cloak wrapped tight around me.
A cloak of grief.
A cloak of fear.
A cloak of wanton weariness.
FLY FREE
On 19 October – 23 days before peace treaties were signed to end the first world war – Charles and Eva McDougall welcomed June Margaret into the world. A world where electricity and cars were yet to become mainstream and Tasmanian Tigers were still living and breathing.
TREASURES
For the fourth time in my life, I find myself going through the intimate possessions of a family member. It is a […]
THE LURE OF THE DARK SIDE
If the universe was reasonable, it would allow me to “fully recover” before throwing curve balls in my direction. Unfortunately the universe […]
WHAT DO I NEED?
Since I fell apart last year, people keep asking, Are you okay? How can I help? If you need anything, just ask! They are genuine offers but I never know how to respond so just say I’m fine and don’t need anything. Not because I’m a martyr but because I genuinely have no idea.
A CENTURY IN THE MAKING
randmother was called Peace as a child. She was the youngest of three girls – the formidable McDougall girls. Her closest sister was born in 1914 and grandma in 1918 – war and peace. That wasn’t her real name though – her real name was June.
SAFE TRAVELS GRANDMA
My grandmother passed away in her sleep overnight. I’ve been caring for her the past ten years. On Tuesday she woke up, reached out and held my hand and said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” She was 98 2/3.
THE NEVER ENDING STORY
As soon as I make a little bit of progress – and find a few moments of hope and belief – I seem determined to crash and burn, just to prove to myself recovery is either impossible, or impossibly difficult.
WHY DO I DO IT?
I am coming to the end of an eight week online course for recovery from binge eating and/or bulimia. I am about […]
YES!!
Day 30 of the challenge. I made it! In case you missed it, my challenge was to write for 30 days about […]
RECOVERING
I am recovering. I am not recovered… I am in recovery. This I believe. This I know. My recovery course is ending […]
EAT
I have to eat food. I have to eat food – six times a day. SIX TIMES A DAY!! Fuck… Well to […]