She whispered,

“she’s put on weight, hasn’t she! I won’t tell her that. But she looks good. She looks healthy!”… Not knowing that I was in the room next door, fully able to hear every word she was saying.

Earlier in the day I had a conversation with another woman about being vegetarian. She was quite surprised to hear that I was, informing me that I look like a “healthy” vegetarian… whatever that’s supposed to even mean. Weighty enough? Slim enough? I don’t know. I’ve seen vegetarians of every size.

The words are like bombs going off, only now, they’re a little further off into the distance. The ED voice is there, but small and unsure. It panics, saying, “oh God, you’ve put on so much weight,” and I respond, “yeah, but I’m healthy now,” and it asks me, “but, is that okay?”

And I say, “yes. Yes it is.”

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Then silence…

And all is okay.
And all is fine.
And all has improved.

And it’s all just pretend?

The jump from there to here, now, is impossible. Yet here I am, which makes me wonder whether my current state is some sort of denial.

Recently there have been good changes in my life, but to me ‘good’ is fragile, and ‘good’ slips through my fingertips no matter what. It’s not something I’ve ever worked out how to hold onto, just like happiness.

It’s there and then it’s gone. There aren’t varying degrees of either. It just is or it’s not.

I’m walking a tightrope between two extremes.

And all is wobbly.
And all is fragile.
But all is good and I don’t want to rock it too much.


“We keep coming back to this meaning that I lack.”

My body is shaking and my heart is going so fast that it feels like one continuous, violent beat.

If I could just turn down the volume, slow my thoughts, I wouldn’t be half as anxious as I feel right now.

But the what-if’s have made their way into the dimensions of my mind and they bounce from wall to wall in an attempt to find their way back out.

Bounce… Echo,
Bounce… Echo –
they don’t want to be there any more than I want them there. I can hear it in their scream.

And with each breath I breed another parasitic thought, living off whatever little self-esteem I’ve left.

It’s impossible to believe in yourself when you don’t believe in yourself. I see no in-between.

Surely I am, or I’m not.
And I’m not.
And I’m not.
And I’m not.

And it’s black or it’s white, or it’s black or it’s white, and that’s all that it can be.


It began with one single thought,

that turned into my life:

“No one can hurt
me as much as I can.”

which also translates to:

“No one can hate
me as much as I do.”

And you don’t know this, but with this thought, you will never fly higher than I do.


“Because you finally understand the movement of a hand waving you goodbye.”

I’m so terrified of being alone when I’m alone
And then I’m so terrified of being loved when I’m loved.
I’m always needing exactly what isn’t,
Scared of what I do have and scared of what I don’t have precisely the same amount.

Sometimes I panic that I’m never going to find the connections that I feel I need to have with people in my life. And I’m human so I do need them. It’s not that no one is around because they are. It’s not that there isn’t opportunity to connect with them because there is.

It’s that I don’t.

And that’s not because I don’t want to because I do. It’s because I’m scared; scared of the connection within the connecting.

So, people do
but I don’t,
and so the process is like watching sand slip through my fingertips over and over again.

I have it…
I had it…
It’s gone.

Then scared of the loneliness within the aloneness, it repeats like a song stuck on replay.


My Paradoxical Logic

I’m always needing to obsess about one thing just to keep my mind idle.


To be stagnant.

Time around me is ticking and tocking, but the time within me has stopped. I am frozen within a single, chaotic frame of time.

I always imagined stagnancy to be tranquil, but it seems that I was so wrong. I am suspended in a fixed state of turbulence.

I…
I…. I…..
Never mind.

No, go on. Finish your thought.

But I already did.