Linda G. Hill gives us the word “wallpaper” to work with for SoCS today. As I had absolutely nothing to say about wallpaper, I decided to do am image search and see if anything from that inspired me. The pictures most near the top were of cell-phone wallpapers, which I didn’t even think about; I was thinking about literal decorative sticky paper on actual walls. Traditional wallpaper, I guess you could say. πŸ™‚

The wallpaper on my phone is a photo taken from the pier at one of the local beaches. You can see the shoreline on the lift side of the photo, but most of the image is blue sky and ocean of a deeper blue. I remember when I took that picture: I was there with a friend from high school (we’ve more or less lost touch now), and we were going to eat burgers and drink milkshakes. I remember, doing that scared me so much because I was near the beginning of my eating disorder recovery journey. Thoughts like, “You want me to go to the beach, and eat a burger, and drink a milkshake, in the SAME DAY?!” were prominent. I refused to wear a bathing suit, so we didn’t go swimming, but we did eat that stuff, and we had a really fun day. At least I wore shorts and short sleeves. I remember, even though it was a huge challenge, that day was a major win for me!

I’ve come a long way, even if it doesn’t often feel like it.


You've come a long way, through the wind and the waves,
To find a blue sky and a safe place to stay.

The steps and the strides might be tiny or wide,
But in taking just one, one can be satisfied.

Remember the places from which you have come,
It has been a long road, and although you're not done,

Sometimes the wind and the waves want to play:
A milkshake and fries aren't too scary today. 

Gut Feelings

It’s Thursday evening, which means it’s time for my last-minute submission for Brian’s weekly prompt! πŸ™‚ This time it’s about intuition. To fit with the theme (and also to put less pressure on myself), I wrote it mainly in a stream-of-consciousness style. Also for MVB: Alone. Photo credit: Collin Guernsey on Pexels.com

An intuitive child, made to feel alone,
Carried these feelings until she was grown.

People say “go with your gut” —
For her there was a glut
Of emotions she could not handle,
Of anger and sadness she was full.

And she ignored her gut so that she starved,
Until she her own loving niche carved.

Pear, or, Insecurity

We envy the hourglass,
Eschew the ruler, but
Fear the apple and pear.
Why do we insist on classification,
And idolization of passing things?
I am not a fruit
Nor a measurement implement
Nor even a timepiece --
I think what we want, really,
Is for that hourglass
To turn itself upside-down.

Everything you need to know about dressing for your body shape | Al ...

Image found on image search
Illustration just in case you are a man and/or don’t know what I’m talking about then I refer to pears, apples, etc.

This free-verse poem was written for MVB: Pear and Brian’s challenge about insecurity.

This is another poem I’m nervous about posting. I’m really not as vain as this might make me sound. A lot of people think eating disorders are about vanity. They’re not. They’re more about control and trying to find a way to feel good about oneself. The media and beauty ideals are a contributing factor, but I had the perfect set of personality traits and life experiences to be susceptible to the media’s messaging. If I had any shred of self-esteem or self-worth back then, I wouldn’t have felt the need to change what I looked like. Plus, once I started, I couldn’t stop because of A. people’s compliments, which I craved like a drug, and B. the realization that starving calmed my anxiety. You do it enough, it literally makes you feel high.

I didn’t mean to write so much about what causes eating disorders (it frustrates me that a lot of people blame just the media and photoshop), but there you go.


This is going to be another ranting / rambling post. You have been warned.

I saw a post on Instagram, the other day, along the lines of “Don’t trust the thing that’s trying to kill you.” Don’t trust the eating disorder. Don’t trust , the depression. Whatever. Don’t trust the PMDD or whatever is going on with me this time. But if I can’t trust the very body I live in, then what can I trust. Jesus, of course. “Jesus” is always the answer, isn’t it, my Christian friends? It’s too bad when you don’t particularly like Him these days, but you can’t deny or ignore His existence. Go ahead and give me the “worst Christian” award; I don’t care.

Yesterday was this month’s full moon. Maybe that’s why I am being a LUNAtic! I’m a little obsessed with the names of each month’s full moon. July’s is called the Buck Moon because deer’s antlers are growing at this time (allegedly).

I started a cherita about this earlier and am finishing it now:

I am obsessed with the full moon,

Periodically feeling like a total lunatic,
Personality eclipsed, it's absolutely

Hysterical but not funny at all. It shines
Like an unwanted spotlight, and I can't
Hide; the moon can't leave the stage either.
Photo by samer daboul on Pexels.com

It Takes Courage

It takes courage to cultivate empathy, to not callus your heart against the pain of the world and so many (too many) people in it, or even against the truth that is in one’s own heart and history. The eating disorder numbed a lot of that for me. I remember, in early recovery, it was so difficult to feel all that anger and sadness and other “negative” emotions that had previously been numbed. However, after about a month in a special recovery home, I laughed, and one of the girls commented, “I’ve never seen you look so happy.” That was when I realized that not only had my difficulties been numbed, but my true enjoyment of life as well. It took a TON of work. It still does; I won’t lie and admit that I have to remain watchful and remember that the eating disorder voice IS a liar and it DOES want to destroy me.

These things inspired a sijo for Ronovan Writes about “work.”  By the way, this was not what I had been expecting to write all week, since I saw the prompt. It’s remarkable how that happens.

Ronovan Writes Sijo Challenge Image

What an insurmountable mountain stands, over life's landscape: 
All the troubles that had been buried now seen, a little at a time, 
Yet little treasures and caring comforts are also unearthed.

Last on the Card for June

My photo for “Last on the Card” for June 2022. I hung out with a friend whom I hadn’t seen in a few months, and after having lunch we went to Chick-fil-A for frosted lemonades.

I liked the little vase of flowers, too.

Neither of us had tried that before, and to me it was more like a milkshake than a slushy (so it was rather unexpected, and that’s the biggest reason why the eating disorder “voice” hated it [see this poem]). However, I am happy to say that I did enjoy it and drank the whole thing. πŸ™‚ Most importantly, I had a good time with my friend.

bullies in my head

Brian’s prompt this week isΒ bullies.Β I was going to wait until tomorrow to write and post for this, but I am in a perfect situation right now: the bully in my head who is calling me fat and ugly and stupid, and the anxiety that won’t calm down. Contrary to what people probably see and what everyone thinks they know, I don’t always do well in fighting against the eating disorder “voice,” and my gosh, I have really pissed it off today! This poem was written all at once. It was like, “3, 2,1, go!” and these words came out.

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com
There's a Bully in my head,
It wants me small and wants me dead,
It says I've still got pounds to shed,
I've made it very mad.

It reminds me of the food I've had
Today and all this week. I'm sad
It's back, it's gotten really bad,
But at least I ate. 

The Bully wants to hell create,
Depression and Anxiety mate
To form a monster -- is it Fate?
But I'm fighting and fed. 

At Least

Having been too busy yesterday to write much or to post anything, I want to write a lot today and maybe even post multiple times (this is your warning!). This poem was partially inspired by Brian’s prompt about “fleeting beauty” from last week. Also, it’s been hard because I’ve been eating a lot this week and ate a ton yesterday at my cousin’s wedding (how can you resist CAKE???).Β  I hate to admit it, but the eating-disorder “voice” never really goes away…

One thing that I notice when I do eat more is, at Sunday Mass, I actually sing better, and my voice is stronger. πŸ™‚ That makes me happy.

At least I could sing strongly.
There’s a certain zest for life
That’s missing when you won’t eat
Wedding cake, or what
Your body really needs.

There’s a certain beauty
That doesn’t fade.

“At least” I could sing strongly?
That’s everything.


wk 262 zest

Click here to join in the Weekend Writing Prompt.


Writing that felt gut-wrenching. Pun intended. Eating disorders are very symbolic. πŸ™‚ Okay, have a good day, all.

Something Inevitable

Today’s challenge for DVerse Poetics is to write on the topic of one or more of the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). I’ll try not to focus on Depression, for once. πŸ™‚ This seems to be quite a challenge for me, but as a writer, I am probably capable of it. The picture is one I took last year.

I’ve been grieving for a long time. At 19 years old, an eating disorder took over my life, almost took my life. Then I spent 4 years recovering. Those are 4 years I’m never going to get back, 4 years when the rest of my peers graduated from college and got jobs, maybe even started families. I feel behind, like I’ll never catch up. Covid didn’t help anything — thanks to that, life became even more on hold. All my life seems to be made up of recovering from previous life.

I used to wonder how I developed an eating disorder in the first place. Now, after having done a ton of therapy and realizing the commonalities between me and other sufferers, I am more surprised that it didn’t happen earlier.

I’ve been briefly in the “acceptance” stage, believing that God has something else for me, that God is writing a beautiful story. Maybe He is, but that doesn’t stop me from stalking over to the “anger” stage. With a birthday coming up in only 6 weeks, I am seeing even more starkly what is lost and finding fewer and fewer ways to replace it.

“growth in everything?”
see skeletal arms reaching,
a withered fig tree


Well, that was sadder than I intended. I failed my self-imposed “try not to cry” challenge.

5 Answers

The prompt for day 18 is to “write your own poem that provides five answers to the same question – without ever specifically identifying the question that is being answered.” Why don’t you leave a comment saying what you think the question is? This poem does not provide an exhaustive list of answers, by the way; there are a hell of a lot more (pun intended πŸ˜€ ).

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