Friday, February 13, 2015

arrival

Hi dolls. I like to give you pet names. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable or give you the wrong idea. I am in no position right now to have a relationship with anyone other than myself! Unless you are this hybrid of Tilda Swinton and an early Mick Jagger. Can you imagine how alien you would look if you were that hybrid? Hot. A hot alien from outer space, come to take me to their "black hole" ifyouknowwhatimean. Anyway, enough science talk. More... More food talk? Yeah! Food! Food is science, though. Food is also culture, food is complicated. Food is, shockingly, quite necessary for living creatures. And I no longer desire to be a zombie. I want to be an alien, a living and breathing alien traveling around the galaxies with my Mickilda Swigger by my side. What will we eat up there in the cosmos? Moon pies perhaps. Starbursts and Milky Ways. Eggs sunny side up. Hell, we may even eat that freeze dried ice cream astronauts consume, but only if it's starlight mint.

Okay, maybe I don't want to talk about food right now. I do and I don't. I do and I don't! I do and I don't want to do many things, but I do want to get better. Still. I still, amazingly enough, want to get better a day later. Yesterday was so tricky and difficult and challenging and all of those other words you can find in a thesaurus. But it was also incredible. It was a relief. Just slightly shifting my perspective transformed my whole day into one that could have easily been frustrating into one that was open and for the most part untroubled. I dealt with things. I didn't run away. And I think that's the key.

I also ate a banana. That was another key.

Seriously, eating a lunch, even though it was a light one, changed my world. It did! My brain worked better, my nerves calmed down, my attitude wasn't pissy. I even made pleasant small talk with a weirdo couple in the park with a weirdo dog (the dog was so so so small! it honestly looked like an alien dog!). I was nice. I was nice to weirdos and kids and adults and weirdo adults who are actually just kids in disguise and -- finally finally fiiiiiinally -- I was nice to myself.

It is still a huge work in progress. "It" being all of it. Eating, cutting back on exercising, showing myself respect and compassion, not getting sucked into the black hole of anxiety. No no no. The only black holes I wish to be sucked into are those belonging to my extraterrestrial sweetheart, my spacey babe. They have bananas on other planets, do they not? If not, inform NASA immediately and have them shoot some freeze dried ones up my way.

Hey. I'm doing okay. I will keep doing okay because I wholly want to be whole again. No more fragments of a person floating around. I will find my roots, I will stand grounded, I will stand.

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