Filed under: fiction | Tags: creative writing, fiction, sci fi, science fiction, short story, story, time travel, writing
We had our tea in the kitchen, out of a sparkling white china tea set with a matching kettle that looked a bit out of place on the faded linoleum of the kitchen table which looked about 30 years old at a minimum. As she served tea Gran told us exactly what she thought of detective agencies, how they were disreputable, how no decent person would work at one, even as a secretary, and how private investigators were just peeping toms for hire by unhappily married rich people. I didn’t take this talk too seriously, though, as I was starting to get a sense of the Personality in whose presence I found myself.
“I agree, actually.” I said, in the spirit of investigation.
“Do you, now?” She looked at me, reminding me once again of a spear point.
“Well, yes.” I had said it in the hopes of moving the conversation along, and now I had to come up with some sort of follow through. What I managed surprised me no less than anyone. “Private Investigation is a cesspool. Our agency barely gets by investigating insurance fraud, or divorces like you mentioned. The lost cat I found was probably the only time I’ve felt I could hold my head up, and he was hiding under a rhodedendron. That’s exactly why we need a time traveller. Not for help in catching cheating spouses- there’s really not much trick to that. We need a time traveller to attract a whole new kind of business. We need a time traveller so that we can help people find out what happened to their missing children 20 years ago, or solve murders that the police have given up all hope on.”
“The union doesn’t allow its members to do police work. Do you really want to bring down the TTJU on us? Police departments certainly haven’t been brave enough to risk employing time travellers without permission.”
“Well, yes, that’s exactly why it has to be done with a private investigator.” My mind went full speed, trying to come up with something, anything. “It would be- you would be employed as a researcher, and our clients might be attracted by the idea that we had a time traveller unofficially on the payroll, but it would be up to us to find the evidence in the present so as to make the whole thing deniable. That way we could have your wisdom and judgement in pointing us towards the right evidence, but it would be the investigators who had to find the traces in the present moment that would back up whatever it was your research pointed at.”
She looked at me again, and I was sure she’d seen right through me. But all she said was “Very well, as long as time travel isn’t officially my job description I suppose the TTJU won’t have anything to fuss over.”
Then we began the considerably longer process of negotiating over her salary.
Filed under: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorders | Tags: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorders, pro-ana, proana, recovery
reality check to all my fellow ed warriors- everything you do, every day, is designed to prevent you from realizing how big a problem you have.
take me, for example. why don’t i tell you about yesterday evening?
yesterday evening i purged for the first time in a couple days. my usual routine post-purge is to either go right to bed or to plunk myself down and read or watch tv for at least a couple hours. why? well, i don’t think about it too much but it’s because purging makes me feel really, really bad.
but yesterday it was getting a little late in the evening and i wanted to get some diet soda, so that i’d have some for this morning. i realized it was a change of routine, it felt weird, but i didn’t think about why i had the set routine of staying put post-purge so out i went- and i’d gotten out of my building and a few feet from my front door when i started to realize that this wasn’t going to be a straightforward trip to the corner store because my legs weren’t working right.
i must have looked absolutely awful, intoxicated or crazy- or dying. i was stumbling. i fell to my knees and was asked if i was okay not once, but twice. the 3rd time i fell there was no one there to see i felt such a rush of relief because my main emotion at the time was embarassment (that and a deranged need to make it to the store and finish the errand, which in the light of day seems pretty silly).
by the time i made it home i was able to walk again, but i was also gripped with terror. for once i had a clear sense of just how serious this whole eating disorder thing actually is. it was way way past my dinner time but i made myself the dinner i had skipped (at the time i’d thought binging and purging would be a more fun option).
then i felt guilty for eating, so i rumaged through my closet to look through old jeans from years ago. the idea was to find a pair small enough that i could put them on and know how fat i was, as punishment for eating. i found an old pair, and i took them out and i didn’t even want to try them on- they were so small, almost child sized, there was no way i’d even get them halfway up my legs. but that was the point, so i figured i’d try them anyways.
punchline- of course they fit fine. they’re about the same size as the jeans i’ve been wearing. but my eyes tell me the jeans i wear every day are huge- a new pair of the same size hasn’t had the chance to become magically larger through the wonders of ed distortion.
anyway. this morning i’d say i’m at about a 60/40 split. 60% of me is still terrified from last night and determined to take this whole thing more seriously. straighten up, fly right, no more nonsense. the other 40% is telling me, well, yes, clearly purging is a problem. but Vanessa, you used to be a champion restricter. what you really need is to cut out the purging and really focus on cutting down the food, upping the excersize, and getting all that extra weight off you.
er- maybe i’ll skip that for now and just make my breakfast like a good girl.
Filed under: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorders | Tags: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorder treatment, eating disorders, recovery
I’m deeply unhappy about where my weight has settled, so expect another round of more pessimistic posts about recovery to show up eventually. that said, looking back over the past couple weeks i can see some signs of progress with the bulimic side of my disorder.
i think mostly i can point to feeling like binges aren’t at all enjoyable and finding that counter examples of what a day feels like when i don’t binge and purge and don’t restrict are getting more attractive. it’s been hard to pin down because i still have so many bad days the good ones don’t feel like they’re gaining traction. but looking back over a few weeks or a month i can see how good days are creeping up and getting more frequent in between the bad days, and that in-between days where i may purge but then decide that purging is miserable and see my committment to resist strengthen for the rest of that day and the next are getting very common indeed.
i’m not sure if i’m doomed once the days start to get shorter and the cold weather sets in, but i did dig out the lamp i have that mimics sunlight, and i hope that if i insist to myself that i not skip days of writing that will help me also. i am looking in to writing classes, but i have mixed feelings which basically boil down to the desire to make sure i find a class that will be useful rather than picking some random class nearby because it would be “good for me” to get out of the house.
its funny how the more i’m nagged about things that would be good for me the less i feel like doing those things. even if- especially if- i know that they really would be good for me. but the writing class example is different, a little, because i feel like taking a writing class just to get out of the house is akin to belittling my writing- looking at it as therapy for the sick person, not as something valuable.
i have too much pride. thats the real problem. doing things that would be good for me would be… um… good for me.
Filed under: fiction | Tags: creative writing, fiction, sci fi, science fiction, serial fiction, short story, story, time travel, writing
The sound of the TV disappeared, to be replaced by the footsteps-and-unlocking noises familiar to anyone who knocks on unfamiliar doors on a regular basis. There seemed to be quite a few locks, and when the door opened at last I had a moment of confusion before directing my view downwards to a woman who barely came above my waist but had a spear point air about her that made it instantly clear to me that I was in the presence of a Personality. Now I undertsood why it was that Tina had been subtly working her way back from the door as soon as we’d heard her dear old gran approaching it.
“Tina.” The old lady said in a tone that failed to register the slightest bit of delight at the sight of her grandaughter. “And you have a large black man with you.”
“Um. Gran, this is Mr. Baylor. He’s one of the men I work for, um, downtown.”
“Hum. So this is one of the poor souls that have had the misfortune of employing you. If you’ve stolen money I’m not going to give any of mine to either of you.”
“She certainly isn’t in any trouble, ma’am-” I began.
“Of course she isn’t! She’s my grandaughter and a very moral young woman. I was joking. Any fool would know that. Why don’t you get to the point, if you have one.”
“Ma’am, my visit to you has nothing to do with your grandaughter, except that she mentioned to me that you’re a time traveller. A time traveller would be a tremendous asset to our agency, which is why I asked Tina if she would introduce me to you.” I said it firmly, without a hint of apology or hesitation, and with a silent prayer to god that she would quickly throw us off her porch for having the impudence to suggest it.
Alas, it was not to be. Instead she instructed me to call her “Gran” and invited us in to have a cup of tea and then discuss this further.
(to be continued only once more, hopefully)
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: creative writing, fiction, Uncategorized, writing
As you will probably have noticed, I’ve been experimenting for a while now with writing longer stories in bite sized pieces about the same length as my usual flash fiction. (which reminds me- I still have to finish the story about the detective agency in the land of time travelling grannies). I’ve been doing it in a very ad hoc way, writing more when the mood strikes and not worrying too much if I find myself abandoning something midway through. I’ve always seen the blog fiction more as practice which makes it easier to let go of something I don’t consider perfect.
I seriously appreciate the encouraging words about my writing- I’ve been slowly gaining in confidence and slowly the urge to put myself down and belittle my efforts to write in my own head has been starting to subside. I want to get to a place where I can honestly believe that things like my writing are more important than what I weigh or even how well or badly I’ve been doing in recovery.
What I’d like would be to continue with the short stories and also be working on a longer project. I have plenty of time and I’m sure I could come up with the words and paragraphs if I could get myself into a routine like the one I’ve gotten into for my little stories. I’m just not sure what the best way would be to keep myself accountable, and also I’m not sure what the best length would be for a new project. I’m thinking maybe I should try for something in between? Maybe I could give myself an assignment of a 20 or 30 page story over the course of a month or so, and try for about a page a day. Of course, I’d have to come up with an idea I really liked and felt I could stick with for that long. I thought I’d ask if any of my shorter stories struck you guys as being particularly worth of expansion, and then if I come up with a story to expand I can report back on how I’m doing with it.
Suggestions?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: creative writing, fiction, flash fiction, short story, story, writing
You can’t be ruled by your anger, at least I don’t think so. It’s important to keep your head and not let every little thing bother you. That’s something I figured out a long time ago, back in my high school days.
See, when I was coming up I got in so many fights- always in trouble, I barely made it to class I spent so much time seeing the vice principal. I hated that guy- the vice- more than anything. The principal was okay, even if you were in trouble he didn’t treat you like a piece of shit or anything. The vice treated you like shit even if you hadn’t done anything.
The one time he really talked to me was just after I’d been sent to see him for the fifth time in my first month of sophomore year in high school. I’ll never forget it, see, cause he looked at me and he said, “You know what I think you need? I think you need a decent enemies list.”
The vice let me in on a little secret. He said how some of us out in the world were never meant to be a Mary Poppins. We just aren’t wired so as to take people’s shit and give ‘em a big smile and go bake some nice shit cookies. We can’t change that. It’s the way God made us- that’s what the vice told me and it’s true, I’m sure of it. The thing the vice told me was you have to learn to get your priorities. That’s why you keep an enemies list.
My enemies list has 4 slots on it. Anyone who makes it on the list it’s my business to knock them down a peg, but anyone else who isn’t on the list I know they aren’t even worth the trouble. That’s what the vice taught me- it’s how I got where I am instead of going down the path towards loserdom. Anyone not on the list gets a smile and a good word from me no matter how much of an asshole they’re being.
And the ones that do make the list? Hah! Funny story. Remind me to tell you sometime about what happened to the vice principal of my old high school.
Filed under: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorders, overeaters anonymous | Tags: anorexia, bulimia, eating disorder recovery, eating disorder treatment, eating disorders, overeaters anonymous, pro-ana, proana
Let me take a moment to warn you all about something- there’s a very good chance that my fiction writing will dry up by November or December. You may think I’m being a bit dire about this, but I can say from past experience that I have a choice at around that time of year between either going very hardcore into my eating disorder or being extremely depressed to the point of suicidal.
Today is rainy and dark, so was yesterday. You may have heard of a thing called “SAD” or seasonal affective disorder. I’ve known for years that whatever else may be going on with my mental health there is a very strong seasonal component. In the summers I can come alive, in the winters I shut down. The only year this effect was partially cancelled was when I was attending 3-4 twelve step meetings a week and even then, believe me, it was pretty dicey.
Anti-depressants have either no effect or more negatives than positive. For instance, once I was tried on anti-depressants and was so unconcerned and complacent that I almost failed a couple classes I was so totally unworried about getting my papers written. Others just caused me to overeat, which caused me to stop taking them, which caused me to relapse into my eating disorder to get the excess weight off.
I really think that the best thing for me would be to relocate someplace sunnier. I wish I’d had the confidence to do so when I went for treatment in Florida. I knew- I knew that coming back home was a mistake. In the end I was too frightened of confrontation with my parents and too scared I might not succeed to make such a huge change.
Now I’m noticing how down I’ve been these past two rainy days and dreading the inevitable decline in my moods that is coming. I wish I saw a way I could avoid it. It’s not like my life is so fantastic now- being significantly more depressed for months on end will hardly improve the situation.
Filed under: politics | Tags: bailout, Democrat, financial crisis, obama, politics, presidential election
The past couple days I’ve been feeling an unusual sense of American-ness, a feeling of kinship with other ordinary people throughout the country in the face of this bizarre meltdown that has our ruling classes in Washington and NYC in such a tizzy. In a strange way the news that ordinary people throughout the country are outraged by the current series of events has been comforting to me. As if I’m not so much of an outlier after all.
I’ll be honest and admit to thinking of the citizens of some of the southern and interior states of the country as almost a different species, one that can make me feel frusterated and cynical. It’s not any one thing, it’s that the values that I care about so strongly seem to be so unimportant to so many people. Especially since I am a lesbian the thought that vast numbers of people would rank condemning my sexual behavior as more important to ensuring that their children are well educated or that large corporations don’t entirely run the country rubs me the wrong way- I don’t want to judge people but seriously, laws to make sure gays don’t get to marry are their priority?? (I feel the same way towards gays that advocate in favor of marriage rights, btw)
The rage towards Wall Street, the feeling that something is not right and we are being completely gypped and hoodwinked by the same people who caused these problems- the politicians on both sides as well as investment bankers- has given me an odd sense of finally feeling like my country is a place that I can understand again. I’ve believed we were being manipulated and sold short by Washington and Wall Street for as long as I’ve had a political conscience. I guess it just took a meltdown to demonstrate to me that my attitude wasn’t actually so unusual afterall.
Now if we could just manage to change things… I try to take comfort from little things. Who knows? Maybe the fact that Barack Obama has gotten more than half his donations from ordinary people giving in small amounts will make him feel more beholden to them. Maybe if he is elected he’ll feel that in order to finance the next campaign he’s gonna have to keep those ordinary people behind him by looking out for their actual interests. Might be a long shot but you can’t just give in to cynicism and assume that no improvements in our system could ever happen, can you?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: creative writing, fiction, flash fiction, short story, story, writing
One of the things Melissa worried about was what would happen to the nice old men in the AA meetings if someone discovered a simple medical cure for alcoholism. She imagined the groups all dying out and all the old guys with many years of sobriety becoming sad, adrift, irrelevant. This was a particular worry of hers on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Tuesdays and Thursdays she had a part time gig as a van driver, taking clients from a local drug and alcohol rehab out to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. On the weekends she had another part time job, this one as a cashier in the local CVS pharmacy. On the weekends she worried about what would happen if a pharmacist came to work at the CVS who had a moral objection to selling birth control.
If that were to happen one day a rape victim might come in and not be able to fill a prescription for the morning after pill. She might become distraught at being turned away and that on top of the trauma of being raped might lead this woman to commit suicide. Maybe her suicide attempt would fail, and she would end up having the child, and it would be a boy, and the boy would grow up to be a rapist like his father.
On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she mostly worried about nuclear non-proliferation agreements- North Korea, Pakistan, India, Iran, and the role of the French government in non-proliferation.
