For the first time EVER, I do not hate my race photos. I have looked at them a few times and find it amazing how photogenic I am even when I have no idea there’s a photographer. I see my shirt tucked in and loose, and I see me posing naturally because it’s my “look […]
A Little Bit Softer Read More »
Thanksgiving came, and Thanksgiving went. I had a plan, and then the plan kind of had me. I had a delightful time in the woods by myself, some intimate time with Mike and his family, and then some distracted mental psychosis around food and emotional hunger and exposure and more. My plan was to
Post Thanksgiving Process Read More »
I used to think eating for joy was being a glutton; consuming things I hadn’t in a while, eating more, eating way past capacity. I used to think eating for experience was having a buffet style meal, regardless of venue or company or occasion. Ordering the “worst” thing (most decadent) on the menu, the
Eating Isn’t a Test Read More »
My disease hates when I’m happy. My disease hates when I stray from needing it to tell me my every move, validate my every thought, and rely on it for comfort. Especially when it has to do with my body, the food I put in my body, and people commenting on either or both. And
See? Doing the right thing always trumps reacting to … anything. Our feelings. Our mood. What’s happening in the perceived version of to instead of for. Corporate politics and drama almost fucking got me today – almost. As salespeople we are feeling a bit desperate as the world continues to spin without us. We’re feeling
It’s been a few days of total awareness. It started with a walk and hearing my anxiety gain an audible pulse. It started with the remembering of our date night shifting and the attachment that it must mean something. (Please read the actual text: shifting, not what my brain said: not happening). Then it
I still Need my Glasses Sometimes Read More »
I woke up and I knew I was ready to go home. I didn’t sleep quite as soundly, I felt a twinge of anxiety, and my brain was fully awake and driving me wild. I’m rebooted. When I got to the beach on Sunday afternoon, I was done. I ate dinner in bed at 6,
It’s true: beating ourselves up for being human just makes it harder. A lot harder. It’s not my fault that I default to thinking I should’ve done something differently than I did. It’s not my fault that I default to thinking I am wrong, or unworthy, or out of place. It’s not my fault that
I know the signs: fatigue, resistance, tiredness, repulsion. I know it because I lived it for many years, pushing it down until I could no longer deny how it felt. Many are obsessed with the idea that work must be filled with passion, purpose, and overwhelming love. Many are sold with the notion that you
I Don’t Need to be a Hit Read More »