Category: Handling anxiety without food
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My sister, my self
Jill is dead. My younger sister, 69, my sweet, funny, bright, troubled, generous, kind, sad sister died at the beginning of this first day of summer. I’ve been waiting, but not ready, for this day since she nearly starved herself to death as a high-schooler. We had no word for anorexia then or any tools…
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Addiction, the sequel (again)
“None of her actions was in the least inauthentic, but her degree of alienation from goals, actions, simple states of being — the acute, inescapable self-surveillance of the addict — resembles that rarefied ontological space of the depressive, the anxious, the ill, the poet.” (Joshua Cody’s [sic] — A Memoir, W.W. Norton & Co., 2011)…
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Stoic the Vast and Dora the Explorer; Tomato-cornbread salad
Here’s the thing: A whole lot of stuff does not matter once you get past, say, the quarter-century mark. My husband, Stoic the Vast, thinks that applies to everything (that it doesn’t matter), but he’s wrong. Some things do matter, just not the way people behaved in your high school class 50 years ago. As…
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Off to see the wizard, bacon-herb cupcakes
Well, it’s here — reunion time. Can I hang onto myself, my grownup self, in the midst of all this nostalgic whoop-de-do? I don’t remember a half century ago through a scrim of fondness. Life at home was such that I remember thinking, I wish I could feel something, anything! (It was much safer not…
youcanteaticecreamintheshower 