Fat Girl,

Ch-ch-ch-changes

May 26, 2018 0 Comments

Wel­come to the new site in all its work-in-progress glo­ry. Let’s talk about some stuff, like why there’s a new site in the first place and what you can expect from me mov­ing for­ward.

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The Process of Being.

April 16, 2017 0 Comments

This Sat­ur­day, April 22, I will turn 30 years old. (Want to help me cel­e­brate?)

Frankly, this ter­ri­fies me.

All my life, I nev­er envi­sioned myself liv­ing past the age of 28. I fig­ured that either the rap­ture would have occurred, or I would have killed myself. So you’d think 29 would have been my all-out pan­ic year, but I spent 29 deal­ing with a lot of oth­er things.

Now, with 30 at my doorstep, I’m caught in its head­lights, await­ing its impact with an ever-increas­ing sense of dread.

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As dumpster fires go.

December 31, 2016 0 Comments

I’ve been sit­ting here for a good 10 min­utes, just star­ing at the screen. Occa­sion­al­ly typ­ing a sen­tence or two, then delet­ing. The words I want to say aren’t words I feel I can say yet, and so I choose to be silent. Much like I have most of this year, if you’ve noticed. On…

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Cognitive distortion and taking up space.

November 3, 2016 2 Comments

My brain is spin­ning with thoughts and con­ver­sa­tions over the past weeks, the cul­mi­na­tion of almost a year’s worth of intro­spec­tion and mourn­ing. “I looked through the jour­nal sec­tion of your blog and noticed you haven’t real­ly writ­ten late­ly,” a friend not­ed. No. I haven’t. I’ve been afraid, frankly. With some good rea­son and prob­a­bly…

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Codependent avoidance.

May 27, 2016 1 Comment

I’m spend­ing a lot of time just sort of sit­ting with myself. What do I want? What do I think? What am I will­ing to give, or ask for? Why? Am I just try­ing to pla­cate oth­ers for my own com­fort and ease of anx­i­ety, or is this some­thing I’m gen­uine­ly will­ing to agree to or com­pro­mise on? If so, why?

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When I must be “The Bad Guy.”

February 1, 2016 6 Comments

I could explain my thought process­es for every step of these var­i­ous jour­neys. I’m very prone to explain­ing and dis­sect­ing and hop­ing beyond hope that I can just make you see why and how, make you see cause and effect, con­nect dots for you, con­nect dots for me. I want to feel jus­ti­fied, val­i­dat­ed. I don’t want to be The Bad Guy. I don’t want to accept that to so many, I am petu­lant and over-shar­ing and run­ning away from prob­lems that could be fixed if I would just try hard­er.

But I can’t change, even if I tried. Even if I want­ed to.*

And so…here I sit. The Bad Guy. It’s not com­fort­able. I don’t like it. But if this is who I have to be in order to be me, then so be it.

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Celebrate the little victories.

July 3, 2015 2 Comments

These are such small things. Such lit­tle vic­to­ries. What right have I to cel­e­brate them?

The same right I have to cel­e­brate the vic­to­ries of all of my friends and fam­i­ly who deal with chron­ic ill­ness­es, phys­i­cal and men­tal. Small vic­to­ries are vic­to­ries. Med­ica­tion that allows me to escape the nev­er-end­ing cycle of pan­ic is use­ful. Wrap­ping myself in soft, warm cloth is calm­ing and sooth­ing. Touch­ing my skin and putting make­up on with gen­tle, lov­ing hands is cru­cial on days where I strug­gle to love myself. Such a short amount of time of my day, and yet now I am calm. I can think. I am okay.

Cel­e­brate the lit­tle vic­to­ries. Always, cel­e­brate the lit­tle vic­to­ries.

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Always. Choose love.

April 21, 2015 0 Comments

You are so young. I am so young. We have much to learn, you and I, twelve years apart and still grow­ing.

But in the face of all of the unknow­able, unsearch­able future, let’s you and I promise to always choose love — for our­selves, for oth­ers. We’ll find our way from there.

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Grieving as the only atheist at the funeral.

November 23, 2014 1 Comment

My Mamaw died this past week. It wasn’t alto­geth­er unex­pect­ed — she’d been in the hos­pi­tal with pneu­mo­nia and var­i­ous com­pli­ca­tions relat­ed to it for a few weeks. But she’d been get­ting bet­ter. She’d been tak­en out of the ICU. There was a plan for her recov­ery. But she died, which just…wasn’t part of the plan. The…

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Sad pandas, boundaries, and relationships.

September 10, 2014 0 Comments

I’m a real­ly big believ­er in bound­aries and respect­ing the choic­es, expe­ri­ences, and desires of indi­vid­u­als. I think peo­ple get to decide how oth­ers are allowed to inter­act with them, and that the onus is on oth­ers to real­ly hear what that per­son is say­ing (yes, even when that per­son is silent. Silence is an answer, after all, and that answer is “I don’t want to talk to you.” Respect it!). I’m just afraid that my post didn’t reflect these beliefs as clear­ly as I’d like it to have.

No one is oblig­at­ed to remain friends with me. Hav­ing been in sim­i­lar cir­cum­stances, but on the oth­er side of the sit­u­a­tion, I real­ly under­stand how uncom­fort­able and even painful it can be to remain in con­tact with some­one who has aban­doned a core com­po­nent of your rela­tion­ship. I have no wish to cause oth­ers pain, and I hon­est­ly have no real ani­mos­i­ty towards those who have decid­ed that I’m a tox­ic influ­ence in their life and they’ll be hap­pi­er and health­i­er with­out my pres­ence. I think they they’re the best expert on what will make their lives hap­py and healthy (even if I dis­agreed), and I try to save my ani­mos­i­ty for those who are open­ly dis­re­spect­ful and/or big­ot­ed. But, I mean, I 100% sup­port the deci­sion of peo­ple who don’t want me in their lives. Tru­ly.

In fact, it’d be pret­ty shit­ty of me to insist that they must remain my friend, to con­tin­u­al­ly insert myself into their lives, to con­stant­ly try to manip­u­late them into a rela­tion­ship they want no part of. That’s not an okay thing for me to do, and I do my best to be respect­ful of their wish­es.

But it still hurts.

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