I think that I have writer’s block.
I can not order my thoughts, nor find the words to express them. Sentences come – and then go – before I’ve time to pen them down; and the conclusion of any chain of thought is always a few phrases out of reach.
The panic is bubbling now, like acid.
(more…)
After last year’s bathroom tile debacle, I thought I’d got to the bottom of my indecision; but choosing carpets would suggest that I haven’t got there quite yet.
After a week of yo yo-ing between ivory and almond, and learning the shift patterns of the various Carpet Right staff, I’m clearly still struggling; but, this time, I don’t think the problem is knowing what I want – it’s living with the consequence that’s holding me back.
My head doesn’t do mistakes and it’s certainly not into forgiving.
(more…)
I have been going round and round in circles for the past month; and, regardless of the starting point, I still seem to end up with the same, unanswerable question –
Where do I fit in?
I am beginning to find the constant side-tracking a little frustrating now. It is rather tiring to keep reaching the concluding paragraph, only to find myself again writing the same four little words. Again.
So, I am changing tact, and moving the ending – to the opening – because throwing ideas around has always helped me to reach my epiphanies; and, hey, I’m going to find myself asking the same question anyway, so I might as well get straight to the point –
And then go back to the beginnings.
(more…)
Since putting on weight, I seem to have separated me, from my body. It sits, over there; whilst I stay, over here; and, never the twain shall meet.
We weren’t this disconnected when I was hideously underweight. We may not have been friends but we were, at least, on speaking terms. Now we don’t acknowledge each other.
(more…)
If you’re not from my generation, you won’t get the title. Radiohead, Creep – a bit of a 90s anthem; played in my head for a few years.
It’s slightly perverse, really, that self destruction got mixed up with feeling special. But it did. It blurs into the attention-seeking theme; ties into the low self esteem theory; links up with the whole cultural backdrop of what was in and what wasn’t.
Anorexia made me feel special.
This one’s quite simple.
If you’re prepared to sentence yourself to the violence of an eating disorder, it’s pretty obvious that you’re not your greatest fan. If you don’t think that you’re worth looking after, you clearly don’t rate yourself that highly.
It sounds flippant – and given that it took me over 10 years to recognise that I had low self esteem and to actually get what this meant, I can’t really over simplify the issue – but the link to eating disorders is hard to miss.
And hard to break.
