The Professor

My therapist insists on calling a certain character from my past “The Professor,” which I find grating and trite, but I can understand the appeal of such a succinct label. He was, not surprisingly, a professor of mine. He was my mentor during graduate school, and I was his… I don’t know. Technically, I wasContinue reading “The Professor”

Admissions

I don’t know what my lowest of low moments was. There were a lot of lows in my 25 years with bulimia, not surprisingly. As I’ve gained some distance from active purging, I can more objectively see how sad and desperate those moments were—the spiraling hysteria of bingeing and purging. Was my lowest point vomitingContinue reading “Admissions”

Progress

I realize my progress in tiny moments which are really pretty big, for me. Saturday night, we hosted about 20 of my colleagues for an outdoor, distanced backyard get-together around one of our fire pits. We had a huge spread of cheese and crackers (my ultimate weakness) and made s’mores around the fire (chocolate–my otherContinue reading “Progress”