The Poop Burrito

It’s been one week since what would have been my 5th wedding anniversary.  As was expected, the day, and the days that followed, came and went with no acknowledgement of that day or the 5 years since.  Except for Facebook.  Facebook is this really exceptional time keeper, reminding you exactly what you were doing on this day x many years ago.  So basically every day this week, FB diligently reminded me about the tristate adventure that was my honeymoon 5 years ago.  Since DDay, I haven’t been a big user of this social media platform.  I’ve stayed clear of constant reminders of the life I was living.  I did not want to catch glimpses of fun family outings, declarations of love made by adoring husbands, squishy new babies wrapped tightly in between two blissful parents, former family members who I now simply observed through social media and, of course, diet updates, weight loss photos and gym selfies.  So basically Facebook is an asshole and one big trigger. Read More

Happy Anniversary; the year of the wood

Friday May 13th, 2011 seemed like as good a day as any for my 3rd and final walk down the aisle.  Technically, it was only the second time down an aisle as Temple weddings are a smidgen different than any you’ll see on TV, but still.  Being slightly creepy and paranormal obsessed anyway, I wasn’t deterred by this purportedly unlucky day.  On the contrary, I had previously married on rather lame days without much luck of an eternal companion. Read More

Follow your brain, your heart is stupid as shit

“Always love a woman for her personality.  They have like 10 to choose from.”  I feel like whoever penned this good bit of satire may be on to something.  I’ve mostly lost all pride or luxury of concealing all the less than ugly parts of me.  I take no shame in admitting that there is a whole chorus of voices participating in my mental dialogue every bloody day.  Some of them are dead useful and there’s a whole harem of charmingly, witty ones.  But for my friends who have ever lived with ED, you know he is an obnoxiously loud, over-talking, pessimistic asshole.  While it’s likely that each woman has her own compilation of both helpful and unwanted contributors, I’ve been thinking on mine and all the ways that each has contributed to either my psychosis or recovery.

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