Your name is Emily. You are loved. Fiercely. You complete our family, and it is hard to imagine being without you. But you don’t exist. You never did. And you never will.
I did nothing today. I had plans. I had responsibilities. I have articles to write, and things to clean. I have lists and chores and things to get to. But I did none of them.
My son ate peanut butter all day every day during the summer, but now that he’s back to school in a nut-free environment, he has given up his beloved peanut butter for 6.5 hours a day, and the world has continued to spin.
I’d love to go for a work out, but you see, it seems getting out of bed is going to require all of my energy today. Depression is hard.
If doing anything “regular” people do while fat is brave, then that means there is something shameful about being fat.