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Big changes, small towns.

I've always though to myself as a city dweller. Any time I've ever left Albuquerque it's been for a bigger or equivalent city, someplace I can get lost in all the bodies. In 2004 I left home for the first time to attend school in St. Louis.  I ended up having a mental breakdown (among other things) and coming home. In 2009 I impulsively moved to Oahu, a hugely populated island in Hawaii. When people from the mainland think of Hawaii, I seriously doubt they're thinking of Oahu. Kawaii or Maui, maybe, but not the high rises and traffic jams in Honolulu. The circumstances weren't ideal, and I scrimped and saved every penny I made so I could go back to Albuquerque and make a life for myself. For all intents and purposes, that's what I did. I had my dream job, a relationship that looked ideal, and a kooky online presence that meant I got all the attention I, a last born show-off, could want. I lived that life for five years. When it fell apart, I did everything...
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What I WOULD Say to My Employees, if They Bothered to Read the Things I Write

It is a fact of life in this business that there are going to be busy, hard days.  Some of those days are unpredictable, some we can see in advance. We do our best to plan but you know how it goes, best laid plans, and all.  No matter the case,  the stress, pressure, and constant movement can take their toll both physically and emotionally. I know, I’ve had nervous breakdowns from them. On more than one occasion I was tempted to walk out and never look back .  It was overwhelming, and I wanted someone to come help.  In fact, I would get furiously angry that no one was helping me.   I felt like someone had to be at fault, that there had to be a simple solution, and someone out there was responsible for that idea and was clearly withholding it from me because they hated me and hoped I failed.  Of course, those were all lies my mind was telling me.  I was tired, my body was on the verge of falling apart, and no one was coming to my rescue. ...
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Every Day Eating Disorder: What's it's like to talk out loud about my illness

The other day, I made a decision.  For me, it was revolutionary and completely terrifying.  It is in regards to how I handle having an eating disorder and how I talk about it.  You see, for the most part, I didn't.  Not out loud, in person, to people I love. Almost never do I tell them what it's really like for me on a day to day basis. So, I made the decision to talk about it.   I can write about eating disorders until my fingers fall off.  But looking someone in the eyes and saying, "Eating is hard for me.  Every day.  All the time.  Not just when things are bad or I'm stressed out, just all the time."  Felt like a social death sentence.  What would my friends think of me when I suddenly put them face to face with the darkest, hardest to swallow, piece of me?  Especially when like, 80% of my friends are fat?  Would it sound like a humble brag?  Would they think that instead of my real reality, which is ...
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I Can't Fix You, So Stop Asking and I'm Not Imaginary Anymore

I have always seen myself as an agent of change. When I was younger, high school aged, I came up with a theory about it. I decided I was an imaginary friend.  I would pop in and out of peoples lives as they needed me.  For a long time I felt this way.  It was almost as if I didn't exist until I was called upon by some unnameable force and I would enter the life of someone in need. It wasn't always a trauma that they needed me for.  There was plenty of that parents, breakups, extreme mental breakdowns.  I was there through them all.  These things, though they were dramatic and exciting, were not the bread and butter of my powers though.  What I believed the Universe used me for, as an imaginary friend, was to propel people forward down their own path.  I wouldn't have been able to put into those words at the time, but it sums it up nicely. I encouraged my friends to do the silly, weird, creative shit they wanted to do.  It seemed that...
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Scales in Public Restrooms and the Function of Eating Disorders

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I had an interesting experience today. I went with my boss to her business coach meeting.  I've been to his office once before, so I was vaguely familiar with where the necessities are.  By necessities I mean bathrooms.  I knew where the bathrooms were.  Being someone who drinks tons of fluids every day, and who has an issue with her bladder (don't get grossed out, its just a fact of my physiology) I excused myself before the meeting to use the toilet.   The building his office is in houses several other small to medium businesses, and they share a public bathroom.  Its the kind you find in malls across America, except maybe two to ten billion times cleaner.  Today, for whatever reason, laying innocuously on the floor at the farthest end in front of the handicap stall, was a scale. I think for most people they'd see it and think, "Why is there a scale in a public restroom?"  Which is actually pretty much exactly what my boss said when ...
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Aimless.

I keep trying to write something that I feel.  Something that makes sense to me, but all that makes sense to me right now is cost of goods sold and maybe my cats.  Maybe.  They've surrounded me, as it's almost dinner time, and they think if they're annoying enough maybe I'll feed 'em early.  They're not wrong either. My mind is this mushy mess of work and self discovery.  I'm sort of. . . stuck. Which I guess isn't always a bad thing.  Maybe I'm supposed to be here for a minute, take in the view.  There's a lot of this part of life that I haven't discovered yet.  There's parts of my brain that want to be explored right now, and I'm finding it difficult.  I've tasked myself to find the things that I can do that will nourish me.  Not just my body, that's pretty easy.  Eat food, move your body, get rest.  That's not actually that difficult. Well, it is.  But it also isn't. It's easy to make it difficult and be i...
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Words and an inspiring Stone Butch

I keep telling myself I'm going to write.  I have this outlet here, and I've posted 14 times.  I have 15 unfinished entries.  Just sitting there, waiting to go. I have things to say. I can't seem to do it. WHY? Because.  I'm too busy.  My mind is elsewhere.  I have more important things to do.  Dan needs me.  My cats need me.  Work needs me.  My time is better spent being productive.  Dishes.  Laundry.  Cat boxes.  Netflix.  Dinner. I have a file in my brain just for excuses. I use them when I feel like maybe, just maybe, it doesn't matter if I say anything. I use them when I feel like I might not be good enough to speak, to take up virtual space. But then Leslie Feinberg dies.  She died. My heart is a little broken and I didn't even know that much about her, let alone know her. Pronouns are a little tricky here because of Leslie's nature. I don't have the mental space to educate you al...
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