Eating for No Reason

When my husband picked me up from work today he took me to McDonalds.  I had a double quarter pounder and fries and ate till I felt like I was gonna pop.

Then we went grocery shopping.

Meanwhile, just a few hours later, I’m sitting here eating some mild boneless wings.

I’m not hungry, but they are good.  I’m eating for no reason, other than that the food tastes good and it makes me happy.

There is a reason I am over 200 pounds.


This has been one of the biggest roadblocks in my losing weight.

I crave the endorphins that food gives me.  I can’t find the same satisfaction in anything else.

One day I’ll figure out the magic potion to help me stop my cravings for yummy goodness.

Anyone got any suggestions?

A Radiation Cloud of Grief

This year has been good to me.  All two days of it so far.

Other people have had sad news.  Someone I know lost their mother on new years day.  It’s tragic, though it was expected it still has to be a horrible way to start a new year.



There were so many celebrity deaths in 2016.  So much personal loss for many people as well.  Too many police shooting innocent people.  Too many people shooting innocent officers.  Too much death in general.

We lost family members.  We lost pets who have been with us for 13 years.

I wanted 2017 to start without any deaths, a day or two where everyone lives, and everyone gets to go on…just one more day.

Is it just fallout.  The toxic radiation of destruction reaching into the new year, but will dissipate the farther from December 31 that we go?

Or is it a portent?  A sign of things to come.

Will 2017 = 2016?  Will it try to surpass it?

I’m happy to be in a safe home tonight.  I’m happy to have two robustly happy children sleeping in their beds.  I’m happy that bad teeth and a ringing in his ears are the worst my husband has going for him.

If we can make it deep into 2017 without someone near and dear to us leaving us behind then maybe, just maybe, we can have a year free of personal loss for a change.

Cleanse – My Word of the Year

Today is January 1st, and people are thinking, thinking, thinking of what their resolutions for the New Year will be.

Other people feel that resolutions are set ups for failure, that they are often such lofty goals that they seem overwhelming and people give up.

That is why some people choose a word of the year instead.  Just ONE word to apply to all of their lives in the upcoming year.

Many of my friends have been doing Word of the Year, but I have never chosen a word.  Until this year.

This year my word of the year is:



I have had struggles in my life, not just in the past year (which was especially harsh) but for many years.

My life, my body, my soul, all need a good cleansing.

This upcoming year for me is going to be about casting out the old, unwanted, unneeded in order to make room for new, fresh, better things.

For the next year I will be trying to live my life by my word.

  1. Decluttering my home of the stuff I don’t want/need/love
  2. Letting go of negative emotions, grudges, sorrows of the past.
  3. Treating my body better, cleansing it of the fat that is making it sick.

I’m sure there are mor ways I can live my life in a cleansing way.

I will still be making resolutions, and I’m sure they will fit hand in hand with my word of the year in one way or another.

On top of my ONE word of the year, I would also like to learn some new words this year, and considering buying a Word a Day calendar.  Or maybe just a word a day e-mail.

Do you do resolutions or a word of the year?  What are/is your main goal/goals for 2017?  Let me know in the comments!


The Folly of Positive Thinking

Some time back I read “The Secret” and like millions of others I fell for it.

If I only put positive thoughts out there, then amazing things would come to me!  It happened for lots of other people!

Now, positive thought are HARD for me.  I’m naturally a very pessimistic person.  I joke that not only is my glass half empty but it has a crack in it and the rest of the juice is leaking out.



Some days my glass isn’t just half empty, its shattered. (Photo Credit)

The power of positive thinking is pretty much what The Secret is.  If you think, “I wish I had” it is basically the same as sending “I don’t have” vibes into the universe and that echos back to you.  You are supposed to send out, “I have” vibes.  Live as if the thing you really want is already yours, and the universe will MAKE it yours.

And thinking positively isn’t a bad thing but…

The catch is that if it doesn’t work for you that just means you are not doing it right.  You’re not beleiveing hard enough.

So if it doesn’t work its all your fault.

How’s that for a daily affirmation.  If its not working its because you suck.

After a few months of positive thinking, I noticed that nothing had changed.  Absolutely nothing.

So, it has to be me.  The univerise has it out for me right.



Dear Universe, what am I doing Wrong!?! (Image Credit)

Oddly enough, despite the obvious flaw, I can’t seem to drop the idea that Positive Thinking will fix all the problems in my life.

I just have to think harder!


Right now I’m going through a low in my mental health.  Having been battling depression for many years without medication I know this is not a “sadness” that positive thinking can blow away.  I also know that Positive Thinking is going to be pretty much impossible this time of year.

Holidays+working retail means October and December is nothing less than a living hell.  Hell is not condusive to positivity.

But still……


I think in this upcoming year I need to work on positivity again.

Who knows, maybe I AM doing it wrong.  Maybe I just need more practice.

Have you ever tried to harness the “Power of Positive Thinking” for yourself?  If so, did it work?

(Post inspired by Folly)

Anticipation, Hard Goodbyes

When you add a new family member to your home, 3204337320_2b1a2039e7_o

you anticipate many years of love, and of loyalty, and of friendship.


You never anticipate the day you’ll have to decide to end the friendship.

Goodbye Boomer, my sweet boy.  You were a good boy, even when you ate the bed.  And the door.  And the other door.  We love you and we’ll miss you very much.

Shared with The Daily Post’s Anticipation.

Woodsmoke and Coffee

It’s all wrong now.

The days seem perfect on the surface.  The sun, the clouds, the big and wide bright blue sky, the wind in the tops of the tallest trees.

The weather is cool, but the smell is wrong.

It’s all wrong now.


Air of this temperature should burn my throat, and the world should smell like wood smoke and hot coffee and toast and cigarettes.

It should not smell like cigars and dryer sheets and desperation.

And oh, I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you.

I’m accused by some, in one breath, of not feeling enough for the ones that are gone, and in the very next breath of making you a laughingstock, painting verbal pictures of a redneck but they don’t know.


They can’t understand how the world smells different and how much that means and how big of a hole can be caused by the absence of woodsmoke and toast.

They can’t understand that I don’t PROCESS grief, I HOUSE it.  That every single loss is RIGHT THERE every bit as open and bloody and raw because I didn’t lose you years ago, or months ago or days ago.  I didn’t lose you yesterday or an hour ago I lost you right now, right this very second and if I stop and if I think about it, it all becomes much to much to much.

I cannot look at your picture, I cannot hear your voice, I cannot open the letter I have in my top desk drawer and I cannot read it because I cannot keep losing you over and over and over.


My sons were both born in the same week as you, but you only got to meet one of them and neither of them know you and neither of them have heard you sing, and I can’t think of you on your birthday because I have to think of them on theirs and it will always be one or the other because emotionally I can’t handle both.

Oh god how I miss you, and I want you back I do, I do want you back so much I want you back but I can’t go where you’ve gone and I’ll never see you again and it doesn’t matter if I wear my heart on my sleeve or crush it under a mountain of disassociation it doesn’t change the fact that you are gone.

(EDIT: I realized after posting that this also fits the Daily Post theme for today of aromatic.)

Tiny, Like a Moth

I turn the water hot, hotter, hottest, let the tub fill up.  I let the window up to let the steam out, the cold in.

Even my baths are a contradiction.

moth-645812_960_720A moth flutters from the window (inside the glass, how long has she been in here?) to the wall beside the shower head.

Small and brown and unobtrusive she tries hard to blend in with my ancient floral wallpaper.With my glasses off she mostly succeeds.

With my glasses off she mostly succeeds.

Some moths are huge, the size of hummingbirds.  The size of dinosaurs.  They throw themselves at lights, at people.

She is tiny and silent and easy to ignore.  She is going to die inside of this house, I know.  Not because I’m going to smash her, but because I can’t catch her, set her free.

She sits on the shower head and I lower myself into my scalding water, into my book about self-harm and institutionalization.  About being all alone in a hard, hard, hard world.

I think about this week.

I think about tomorrow.

I think it might be nice to be tiny, tiny like a moth, hiding in a steamy bathroom, disappearing beside a shower head.


Dying quietly, unmourned, swept up like trash at the end.

The world is full of giant, loud moths.  They thrash and thrash and thrash against the light, and think this makes them superior somehow.  Because the bruise and they batter and they convince you in tiny little ways that their self-destructive way is the best way the ONLY way.

Why is it so wrong to be silent?  Why can’t you ever win by disappearing into the wallpaper?

And why does it always end badly, no matter if you refrain from battering yourself to death trying to achieve something that isn’t real.

Tiny and silent, or large and loud, we all die in the end.

Images from pixabay.

The Girl with Blue Hair



Blue Envy by SPLAT hair color.

In my 35th year, I dyed my hair blue, and I never regretted it.

Except for the part where I also dyed my skin blue, but after I fixed THAT I never regretted it.

If you knew me in real life you would know that the whole idea of me dying my hair blue is laughable. I never do anything to draw attention to myself.

Early on I learned that different was bad. I was different.  I was poor.  I was fat.  I was bullied. I was scorned. I was used. I was a laughing stock.

I became such a dormant, quiet creature that I ceased to exist. I went along with whatever the person in charge told me to do. I quit voicing any opinion I had on anything.

I learned the disappear.

By the time I graduated high school I suffered from an intense depression and a case of anxiety that can be crippling at times.

By the time I was in my late 20’s and early 30’s I began to want to “find myself.”  Because, without a doubt, there was none of ME left in the shell that was my body.

The problem with disappearing when you are young is that you forget how to be SEEN!

I tried this, I tried that, I kept rubber-banding back to depression and invisibility.

So (after clearing it with my boss) I dyed my hair, and suddenly I was being SEEN.

For 35 years I was ignored unless someone wanted something from me.  Suddenly random people were shouting out across the room, “Hey!  I like your hair!”

And they said it without giggling behind their hands afterward.  They meant it.  They really did.

I had blue hair, and I liked it, and I had blue hair, and other people liked it.

It took years to perfect my invisibility.  It will probably take years more to fix it.

The anxiety is still there, bad as ever.  The depression is still there, and it get worse after every down cycle.  The urge to disappear into the woodwork if there is more than 2 people in a room is still there.

But in my 35th year, I became known as “the girl with blue hair.”

And that’s a step in the right direction.