For those who have felt compelled to clean out my refrigerator before they would eat or cook in my kitchen, or who disagree with my basic detente with germs (don't kill them and they won't kill you), I admit I finally poisoned myself ( Read more... )

I must be in a good mood, because I'm singing along with Willie Nelson on the car CD player, rather than avoiding him, because Angel with a Broken Wing is too hard to listen to ( Read more... )

Don't even bother to read all that. I'm leaving it here, so I can come back and edit it.

Brevity.

I think I'm getting fear of rejection down.

Next comes brevity.

So, as an experiment, this writing in LJ is proving to me that I can share personal processing information without self-destructing. But it's stressful. Like talking into a living void. There are three bits of response. Two women friends who I know have reason to relate, and one new male friend who thinks it's a good idea that I try drugs and work ( Read more... )

"You're publishing your recovery writing? You can't do that. That's private. And what about your fear of rejection? If people don't like this, you may have an emotional backlash you can't handle ( Read more... )

That was a first draft.

I really need an editor. I kow.

It's the way my brain works now. Long. Long. Nothing is simple. Everything's an opera.

Let’s get the silly stuff out of the way ( Read more... )

Wow, life is getting interesting ( Read more... )

When I started this process two and half years ago, it was a voluntary descent into a kind of madness. Something that no one would do with her own life unless she had no choice. And that was my situation at the time ( Read more... )

I realize I'm doing something in public that most people do in private. Getting over a very personal issue, and not exactly a matter of polite conversation ( Read more... )