I have so many feelings about so many different things I wouldn’t even know where to start if I were going to talk about them.
Sometimes I really appreciate my capacity for emotional depth and the broad range of emotions I experience but other times it’s just exhausting, you know?
I’m eating a bowl of cherries and contemplating these excellent books that I’m going to finish/start/reread this summer.
the woman warrior maxine hong kingston
vintage books, 1977
243 pages
We read this book in my women’s literature class in high school and it was great.
(via autostraddle)
okay the death and dying book my dad gave me was actually informative. it made me feel prepared and I like to feel prepared. I recommend it if anyone is going through the terminal illness of a loved one.
I talked with him about his prognosis today and apparently the verdict is that if he stops treatment and goes into hospice, he has about two months to live. but he’s elected to try a newly released drug that will probably prolong his life for an additional three months. but then apparently it will stop working? I don’t really understand it but I guess it’s not a cure, just a prolonging the inevitable thing. after that he can try another similar drug that might give him another 2 or 3 months.
so we’re maybe looking at 7 or 8 months left with him?
it’s kind of sinking in that he’s not going to see me graduate college, or go to grad school, or get married, and that he most likely won’t even meet the person I end up with. I can’t imagine marrying someone who had never met my dad. He won’t know my kids.
Sometimes I feel jealous that my sisters got to have so much more time with him and that their kids/husbands got to have a relationship with him. I keep trying to tell myself that whenever it happens is when it’s supposed to happen and no matter when he would die, even if it was 20 years from now, it never would have been enough time. It still would have felt too soon.
I don’t know.
It’s just going to suck no matter what.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it for me to attempt to lose weight because:
1. most people who lose weight regain it eventually
2. I felt uncomfortable with my body when I was underweight, normal weight, and now overweight so nothing’s really changed
the only difference is that now I understand that other people also perceive me as being fat whereas when I was thin, I often worried about it but I understood intellectually that others didn’t think I was fat
honestly the only new concern I have since becoming overweight that I didn’t have when I was thin is the fear that people won’t consider me as a romantic/sexual partner because of my size. and my blood pressure is a little high. and the concerns I’ve posted about before about wanting to be a model of healthy recovery to my clients.
like I didn’t feel good about my appearance when I was thin so why would losing weight now make any difference? no matter how much I could lose, it would never be enough.
I think I’m just going to focus on exercising to improve my performance (run faster, lift heavier) and not to change my appearance, focus on eating a variety of healthy foods in appropriate quantities, and work on my body image issues and stop purging.
Maybe I’ll lose weight. Maybe I won’t. So long as I don’t gain any more. I just want to feel at peace with myself.
First trailer for Arrested Development - Season 4!
omg omg
(Source: timetoputonashow, via sunshineuncertaintyprinciple)
I feel like I really miss someone tonight but I can’t decide who it is
if it’s even anyone
maybe i am missing a feeling or a time or a place
i don’t know
i just feel a sense of longing for something i once had but don’t anymore
Today I got an email from Amazon that my dad had sent me a Kindle book as a gift, with a message from him asking me to read it. The book is called “Dying to Know: Straight Talk About Death and Dying.”
So that didn’t make me feel very awesome.
Then I had this conversation with my mom and, while I still don’t feel very awesome about it, I’m remembering that I can’t predict the future and I have to enjoy the time I have with my dad. Also that my mom is funny.
I got asked to ref derby in three different places this weekend. I settled on Indy which is closest, which will be my first time reffing men’s derby. I’m a little nervous.
I’m still somewhat shocked that anyone allows me to ref at all because I feel like a bumbling idiot whose limbs/mouth is not connected to their brain. For example, when I call a penalty, I’m always doing something with my hands, but it’s rarely the right thing. I always get to the right hand signal eventually, but for the first two seconds I fumble around, probably with a terrified look on my face.
I keep having this idea in my head that I’m actually not good at reffing and I’ve somehow tricked other refs into thinking I am, and that’s why they keep inviting me back.
I guess I need to get over it.
I hope men’s derby is fun and I hope I don’t get too nervous or cry or something.
Allie did another post on depression. As per usual, it’s beautiful and funny and poignant and perfect.
This post is perfect.
“The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief. I had always wanted to not give a fuck about anything. I viewed feelings as a weakness — annoying obstacles on my quest for total power over myself. And I finally didn’t have to feel them anymore.
But my experiences slowly flattened and blended together until it became obvious that there’s a huge difference between not giving a fuck and not being able to give a fuck. Cognitively, you might know that different things are happening to you, but they don’t feel very different.”
She describes it perfectly and I’m glad she found the corn and I’m glad that everything isn’t hopeless bullshit, or that we can hold on to the hope that maybe it isn’t?
