#its been like 8 hours since ive eaten just because ive been too busy being mad ag him

[muttsona]

okay. time to stop myself from posting tjings that i shouldnt post on a blog that all of mu friends look at

[rosekun25]

Fourteen Reasons why.

 April 9th, 2017

Dear Tumblr Diary, 

I’m watching “Thirteen Reasons Why.” 

I haven’t read the books since middle school. But my cousin from my Dad’s side of the family sent me the book I think a year ago.  Life always has a way of foreshadowing. I swear it does.

Anyway I’m reading the book too, putting off getting my food handler’s card because fuck that shit. 

Anyway Im watching this and its kind of triggering. I havent watched the part where she kills herself but I imagine I’ve seen worse. 

There’s a video I’ve seen Here’s a link.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_PdYb0EL-Y

Anyway so far that part has hit me the most. 

I mean, It has. After I got out of the hospital nobody asked me if I was okay. I had to lie. I lied about everything so I wouldnt get sent away longer than they needed me to be away. 

I lied and said It was because I missed my great grandma instead of telling them it was because my world had shattered and nobody could hurt me anymore. 

I lied about the pills. I took 96. Well thats now many were in the bottle. I told them I didnt know how many I’d taken. I just lied lied lied lied lied. I didnt tell anybody why I did it. 

aTLEAST Until they couldnt send me away anymore. 

So here are fourteen reasons why I wanted to kill myself 

14. I felt like I’d do it sooner or later. 

I mean it was really weird. I’ve had depression for most of my earlier childhood. I remember not thinking I’d make it to 20. But here I am. I remember wanting to get married and have children but I didn’t actually think I would live long enough to actually do it. I mean I didn’t think I’d finish High School. 

13. I wasn’t beautiful. 

At least I didn’t think I was. I thought pretty girls were 100 pounds, blonde and didn’t have to worry about anything except which husband they wanted.  I guess I was sort of insecure. But not in the sense that I thought I was ugly. Just in the sense that I wasnt  beautiful. 

12. I was starving myself.

Well I don’t really remember this part. I just remember I was really really hungry. The doctors there said I hadn’t eaten for a month. But Im not sure that’s accurate. I mean I must have eaten at some point. I remember I drank tea.  But anyway. I guess i was displaying “Anorexic tenancies” or whatever I was half asleep I didn’t listen.

11. I wanted to die. (duh)

But it wasn’t in the sense of me actually wanting to die.  I mean when you’re young you learn about the circle of life, you watch ‘Lion King.’ Mufasa dies and you learn you wont be around for ever. I guess I just ’ wanted to hurry up and do what I was supposed to. 

10. At the time, my life sucked dick. 

I remember it. I was horribly depressed and doing my best to hide it. I remember I wanted nothing more than to just be held like a baby and told everything was going to be alright. But it wasn’t. There was a point in my life where I kept everything to myself. Everything. Even stupid shit like “Where do you want to eat?” or “Are you hungry?”. I just felt like I had to. Keep everyone safe, dont let anybody know you’re suffering sort of thing. 

Anyway my life sucked dick, because I was always hungry never sleeping and I was overworked. I also was verbally abused at my job. To the point where I would want to cry whenever I walked in the store. But more on that some other time. 

I also hated T or  C. If Im going back there. Im going back in a body bag. 

My Home life also sucked dick. I remember not having hotwater in the bathroom. I remember being cold every night because they refused to pay more money to turn up the thermostat. If I wasnt cold. I was so Hot. There were ants everywhere. On my clothes. In the kitchen. EVERYWHERE. I wasnt allowed to leave my house either. I couldnt just get up and go I wasnt allowed to leave except for school and work. I couldnt leave and it drove me fucking mad.  I didnt have much food to eat, If there was food it was all gobbled up by my fat ass Grandfather who liked to steal my things. I still dont know what he did with most of it. The dryer didnt work either so I’d have to go to school in wet clothes that were freezing. I hated it. Oh and not to mention every morning I’d wake up to screaming. Always screaming. Nobody could ever say “Good Morning Rose, you’ve to wake up now.” No. They were too busy screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming, 

9. I was so tired of everything. 

I was. Really. I still kind of am. Im tired of having to work all the time and having no money. I was tired of waking up every day and going to a school. I feel like I would have liked school better if I didnt have to wake up early and put up with all of that bullshit. 

The bullshit I am tired of here has literally went from 95% to maybe about 15%  Professors are honest with me, My coworkers all do their jobs and I dont get in trouble if they don’t. Really Imagine, getting in trouble because one of your coworkers didnt do their job right. 

The only bullshit I have to deal with is making sure I have enough hours. Which if you ask me isnt a biggie, also I make enough to take care of myself. Which is a lot better than where I was before. 

8. I was going insane. 

Now I know what you’re thinking “Omg, yeah sure whatever Rose. Everybody on Facebook likes to pretend they’re crazy for attention, Change your picture to Joker and Harley just to add edginess. 

But no. It was stuff I dont want to dicuss with you. I had horrible dreams and I wanted to do some horrible things. In a way, I honestly thought if I killed myself I would save everyone.  I still dont remember what I wanted to save them from. 

7. I didnt have any friends. 

Now again I know what you’re thinking, “This bitch is tripping. She won Homecoming Duchess and Princess at the last dance!” (  Side Note: I also went on to win Prom Queen. But Everybody voted for me because I wasn’t allowed to run for homecoming queen because I tried to kill myself in the Bathroom.) 

I didnt have a Best friend. I didnt have somebody who hung out with me or came to my house specifically to play with me. I worked too much or somebody who ate lunch with me because they wanted to and not because I’d integrated into their little group because one of the members felt sorry for me and wanted to be my friend again. 

I knew a lot of people. But I was fiery, Passionate and emotional. People were afraid of that. Either that, or they didnt care enough to try and understand it. 

6. I was suffering from an unDiagnosed Mental illness 

It was Borderline Personality Disorder.  It was making me crazy. 

I still dont understand what it means. 

I know it means. 

But I dont understand it. 

5. I missed my Daddy. 

There. I said it. I FUCKING SAID IT. 

In my family, I was supposed to pretend he didnt exist. We all were. We didnt have Dads. We were just born. You know i didnt accept my Step Dad until My Dad stopped coming to see me. But what does that matter? I mean I wasNT  A BOY. HE DIDNT FUCKING WANT A GIRL. HE PROBABLY HAS 80 BILLION FUCKING DAUGHTERS! HE DOESNT NEED ANOTHER ONE!!!!!!!!!

But how am I going to forget the man who hated it when I cried? The man who bought me all of these presents because he knew he was never going to see me ever again. The man who bought me my first Barbie Car, my Hamtaro doll and my pretty Amethyst Birth Stone Barbie. All because he fucking knew he was never going to see me again. 

I havent seen him since I was two.  But I remember waking up in my hospital bed with Leslie telling him he had to talk to me because the doctors said they didnt know if I’d make it. I heard my auntie tell him in spanish and then he said “I dont talk to anyone who isnt blood.” and I wished I would have died again and again and again. 

4. I wasnt afraid to die. 

I mean honestly who is? Im Catholic now. I understand its the circle of life. Ive seen Lion King. But I honestly wasnt afraid to die. 

Here’s my philosphy on Religion and Death and everything 

If you’re a buddist and you die. You go do Buddist stuff. Buddist heaven, Buddist Hell. 

If you’re Jewish and you die. You go to Jewish Heaven because there isnt a hell. 

I know in church they tell you not to believe in other gods. But God mentions in the Holy Bible several times. So Meh. 

But I wasnt afraid to die. Im pretty sure my life had been clean and the only sins I really had were Hating my parents and Premarital sex. God wouldnt send me to hell for that. So I thought I’d go to heaven and party with Kurt Cobain

Because when a kid with Cancer dies, God doesnt send them to hell for dying of Cancer. So why would he send me to hell for succumbing to my depression? 

I mean atleast even if He was the God I think he is. 

3. By this point I was honestly sure nobody cared. 

The English teacher who carried me to the ambulance cared. I’m sure of that. 

But I mean nobody cared. I remember coming home to no food in the refrigerator and thinking “Oh well they’re making it easier for me now.” I remember nobody ever asking how I was.  I remember feeling numb I remember waking up that morning and deciding I was going to give life one last Chance. I’d missed the bus that morning and I had to call my  Grandmère to give me a ride to school because My Mother wouldnt teach me how to drive because she didnt want me to run off with my boyfriend and be happy. 

Because I guess bragging rights about your kids going to college are more important than your kids actually being happy. I’ll remember that when I have kids. If I live to have kids at least. 

Anyway I remember forgetting to take the pills out of my backpack. Im sure there’s an alternate universe somewhere where I did take them out of my backpack and I just went home early that day instead of killing myself in the bathroom. But hey what about the alternate universe where Hitler cured Cancer?

Nobody cared. Thats the point. Obviously if nobody noticed I was starving myself. If nobody noticed any of the signs that I displayed. 

But of course they all showed up to the hospital and cried crocodile tears. Then they yelled at me again as soon as I woke up. 

2. My life was over. 

“But you were accepted into NMSU! You were graduating Highschool! You had your whole life ahead of you!!!”

Did anybody ever think for just a second that I didnt want any of that? Honestly! Everybody was so proud. Nobody stopped and asked me if thats what I wanted to do. Because it sure as hell wasnt. I didnt want to go to college. Twelve fucking years of a system that made me kill myself in the Bathroom and you wanted me to do  eight more years?!  I wanted to get married and have babies. But I had to. You understand. I had to. I couldnt be like my sister. I couldnt stay in Highschool forever. I had to go to school because Men are useless now and I couldnt just get married out of highschool because as soon as they leave you’re going to need to take care of yourself! But I didnt want that. I wanted to get married. I wanted to have kids. 

1. Chance left.

Honestly this was it. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could see it coming though. Yeah, I made fake accounts to try and talk to him. Yeah I was a thirsty hoe (Symptom of BPD btw). Yeah I kind of texted him until right before I did it. I mean I was 18 of course I was obsessed. He cared. He would kiss me goodnight, He would try to get me to eat but I never would. I wanted to be pretty for him. I wanted him to love me. He did for a moment. You know love is like a drug, A drug that makes you happy every day of your life. Even if all you do is fight. Maybe its because I’d never loved anybody before him. Not even my Mother.  When I lost that happy bubbly warmth. I wanted it back. I was so desperate to get it back. I didnt notice. I didnt notice all the terrible things that happened. I looked over all of the mean words, and abusive flags. None of those mattered, as long as I got that feeling of being warm, loved, safe, and protected. Because it made me want to live. If I couldnt live. I wanted to die. I wanted to die and be with that feeling forever. 

Maybe things would have changed if I had realize what a fucking scum bag he was earlier. 

Am I still Suicidal? Yes.

You cant turn it on/off contrary to the belief of everyone around me. I’ve been suicidal since I was a little girl. But will I do it again? I cant promise I wont.  

 Fourteen Reasons why  I want to live. 

14. I’m happy now. 

I dont know if I could consider this as happy as I want to be, I mean Im still single. I have no children. But I’m happy. I dont have all the money in the world but I can go get Starbucks. I can go out and eat If I want to and that makes me so happy. It makes me so happy to have access to food. 

13. I love my apartment. 

I love my apartment. I love everything about it. I do. Except the rent payment lol. I love that I can literally do whatever I want in this little one bedroom place. I love it. I love keeping it clean, I love putting up whatever I want on the walls and I love love love it so much. Im so warm and happy and there is always food here. 

12. I love where I live. 

I love my town. Its big, its bright and i can get whatever I need to. I can go to walmart again whenever I want and I dont have to beg anybody to take me through the drive through or pay anybody to take me to the mall. I can go see movies and see the world. I love the world. I love the grass and the trees and the warmth of the sun. I can sit on my porch for hours, I can watch the rain, I can go outside. I CAN GO OUTSIDE!!!! 

11. I love being free. My freedom is my most precious possession, I don't want to die if I can be free. 

 10. I don't want to die until I find that person. My whole life I've been told There's a soul mate for everyone. When I think about suicide. I think about being dead, in a way, Death was freedom for me. But part of me doesn't want to leave that person alone. I can't. If He was made for me . Then he's like ME and if he is then I don't want to leave him alone. 

9. I have food. 

I know what you’re thinking “Whatever, I have a frozen Dinner in the fridge. Does that make me not suicidal?”

I have food to eat. Like I do. I dont have to scrounge around my house for a packet of Ramen or hiding a can of soup under my bed and praying it would be there when I woke up. I can wake up and eat whatever I want. I can make dinner and sometimes I just stare at all of the food in my refrigerator and smile. 

Side note, It’s now May 12th, school is over. Im trying really hard to finish this. It’s triggering. Like, Hannah Baker, Everything she does. I can see myself in her.  I could deal with the books. I could deal with the books because I had borrowed my friend’s book and typed the alternate ending and stuck it in my book. I visualized it in my own way. Now seeing it. It’s triggering. Did anybody notice? Did anybody try to? 

What about when I did it? Did anybody think? Did anybody try and look after me. I mean nobody noticed me stop eating so I doubt anybody noticed me writing wills in my psychology class, or me writing my suicide note over and over again. 

The final draft only had a few words by the way and nobody read it. 

They didnt even read the instructions I left for them incase I survived and had to go to the hospital which is why I had to wear the same clothes I wore when i did it. Which absolutely sucked. But i was glad I was getting out of the mental hospital, so there’s that. 

I still dont understand why shit like this cant happen in real life. I dont understand how people can make people suffer so much emotionally that they think suicide is the only answer.

This is really hard to write. I have to think of reasons I want to live instead of reasons I want to die. That’s hard. I want to die. Im so sick of this. But I dont want to die. I want to live.  

In a sense, I really feel like Hannah Baker. Because She wanted to live, she wanted life and happiness but she just dies at the end. I wonder if that will happen to me? 

I’ve had people ask me if Im sure I should even be watching a show like this. But I have to. I have to finish it. 

I read the book I know what happens. But I have to finish it for myself. 

8. Kingdom Hearts III will come out (Eventually) 

I have found joy in video games once again. I mean. Ive always loved video games. But I was playing South Park Stick of Truth again and I liked it. I liked it a lot and I wanted to... I wanted to play it so much. 

I’m sure they have video games in heaven but i wonder do they have midnight release parties? Do they have endings that arent perfect?  

Im sure they do. But being alive for them is different. 

Eventually though. Kingdom Hearts III will come out. Eventually.  Ill get to play it. Maybe Ill get to play it with my grandchildren and teach them about Sora, and Kairi, and Riku. 

7. I want to be a Mother. 

Thats all I’ve ever wanted in life. Really. I just want to hold my baby and raise her/him. I dont want them to have to come home and wonder if there’s food to eat, or if the house is going to be warm or when Mom is going to come home.

I want to have children and teach them and give them love and warmth and make them safe and give them everything I never had in life.  Like love, and chances. Chances to make something of themselves in a way I never could. 

6. I want to live to be an annual passholder at Disney 

I mean I’ve been to Disneyland Nineteen times and this summer it will be 20.  But I want to be able to wake up one day, have the day off from work and ask my kids if they want to go to Disneyland instead of school. I want to go there and have a great time and not have to worry about school or work or depression or anything.

5. I really want to do my bucket list. 

I mean there’s lots of cool stuff on it. But I’m sure they have most of that in heaven. But  I want to do it before I die. Like I want to visit Euro Disney in person and hang out in France. I want to walk up and realize I’m going to see the Little Mermaid on Broadway tonight. I want to be able to tell everybody about what I’ve done and inspire them to do the same thing.

(Update: It’s June now. I have to finish it. I had to stop. It was getting bad again. Really bad. I’m ready now. I really am.)

4. I want to get married.

Honestly thats been my life goal since I was a baby. That and being a ballerina but appertanly my dreams dont matter enough for us to stay in a place I could actually achieve them. I want to have a big fancy wedding which will probably dumb down to me getting married at the court house which I am totally fine with. As long as I am officially married and we honeymoon at Disney. 

Jesus Chirst I cant do this. I really cant. I fucking cant. . .  Why? WHY am I here? Why did I live? It’s fucking impossible did you know that? Am I still alive? Am I dead? I wont fucking know! I’m so much happier now! I really am. But I cant do this. I fucking cant. Why? Why am I alive? Why did I live? SO I could pay bills for the rest of my life? I hate being broke. I hate not having any money. I spent 20 dollars today to go out to lunch and that was a luxury. I couldnt afford that. Especially with all these bills. Why? Why is it so expensive to live in a 3rd world country with Iphones? Why? I dont have a car I have to ride the bus everywhere and spend a billion dollars on fucking everything. WHY? Why? I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate having to be mad at myself for going to the mall and spening 11 dollars. ELEVEN FUCKING DOLLARS! I bought a keychain today. I bought a keychain today and I wasnt supposed to do that!  I love my apartment, I love it, I wont leave it unless I’m in a body bag or leaving with my husband, But i dont understand WHY?! Why? Why do they want everything I have? Everybody just wants money. Everything is just money money money money, do I Have enough? WIll it last? Will I be able to do something with it? Why do you want all of my money? I can barley afford to live and everybody wants to make it fucking harder than it already is!!!!!!!!!! I cant do this. I really want to die. But i really want to live. I really want to live. But i cant live. 

3. I want friends. . .

I want best friends. I want the kind of friends where you all can just hang out together and do stupid shit. I want inside joke kind of friends, I want the sort of friends that make fun of you but you know they dont mean it. I want a specific place for us to hang out and laugh and live. 

2. I want to be infinite. 

I dont mean immortal. I mean I want to do things. I want freedom. People have freedom given to them while others have to fight for it. I want to take a roadtrip. I want to eat at gas stations with somebody and travel and see the world. I’ve always wanted to see the world but i’ve been locked up in this FUCKING TOWER for so long and now i’m afraid to get out of it. I am afraid to live because I’ve never been able to live before! Why are people born free when I could not leave my house to get the mail? 

1. I want to experience love. 

I have never loved anybody. For a moment, I thought I loved Chance. But I realized, you cant love somebody who has never loved you. So i didnt love my Mother, or My sisters and brothers or my grandparents. That wasnt love. It was forced affection. Because when you love somebody you make sure they’re in the car before driving away and asking if they are. If you love someone you dont kick them out of your car. If you love somebody you offer to take them home instead of letting them sit in 32 degrees watching their spit freeze, while you let your family treat them like shit just like you did. 

But I want to experience love. All kinds of love. I want to know why people like it so much and why the feeling is so euphoric. I want to be held and treated like I am a treasure. Like I am worth something. 

Is that love? I will find out one day. I want this. Even if its the only thing I will have. I want it. 

~

I’m on the second to last episode now, 

I wonder if the author wanted us to feel bad for people we’ve slut shamed.  I wonder if we’re supposed to think about it that way. 

I dont know about you but I hate fake people who pretend they’ve killed themselves.  I mean I know its a cry for help. But I wish they would go and talk to somebody instead of insisting they sliced their wrists 80 times and got sent to the ER even though their wrists are scarless and havent look liked they were cut ever. 

My therapist once sent me to the ER because I told her I was feeling suicidial. 

I thought that was utter bullshit. 

Because all I had learned to do was lie. 

Why are you suicidal honey? *Sniff* My greAT Gran died and I miss her so much and I wish I could talk to her and hug her. Oh baby it’s gonna be okay, Derek she’s not suicidal get her out of here. 

See? Then at my next therapy session I had to lie to her and tell her I wasnt suicidal. Which was another lie. 

Anybody who has ever asked me about my Great Grandma Elisa knows I hated going to her house and I didnt like her. I’ve never liked her. She was so mean to me. She really was. 

But i cant say I cried crocodile tears at her funeral. Or when They woke me up and told me she wasnt breathing and I knew she was dead, and I cried in my sleep. Something I didnt do, and didnt start doing until it was getting really bad again. 

Isnt that funny though? How i learned to just lie to everybody instead of telling the truth? 

~

I’m on the last episode now. 

I cant make you believe how many times I had to stop this and step away for a moment. 

It was honestly too realistic. 

Like just the things she said 

“I decided to give life one more chance.” 

I remember thinking the exact same thing. 

and watching it blow it. 

Thats always how my emotions have been. 

Hannah is stealing razors now.

I remember the day I bought the sleeping pills specifically to kill myself.

I didnt tell my Mom that. I told her I was having trouble sleeping which was true. 

I remember telling kids I thought I was taking too much.

I remember pouring handfuls into my own hand and just staring at them. I thought they were really pretty.  

I remember sleeping in class because I’d take too many on purpose. 

I remember hanging up on 911 

I remember calling my ex boyfriend. 

I wondered what would happen if he would have answered. I really do. 

Probably nothing, 

I still would have done it. 

I remember swallowing handful after handful. 

I remember being carried to the office and hearing your voice in my head. 

I remember dying and being at peace.

I remember waking up and screaming and crying.

Because honestly. Suicide doesnt hurt. No. aside from me not being able to eat for a couple weeks without throwing up, or choking up tablets everytime I tried to take a pill. 

What hurt was waiting. I waited for life to get better. 

It didn’t.  

Hannah baker is going to slit her wrists,

I’m mad. This isnt the way it happened in the books. She swallowed pills.

ItsnotrealRosemaryitsnotrealItsnotevenhowithappendinthebooks

This is triggering. 

I reserve the right to skip this part.

I cant breathe. 

Okay, Okay. 

I dont fucking get why people say this show glorifies suicide. We are literally watching a girl die. The worst part is this is how actual people have done it. Oh my god. Oh my god there’s so much blood. 

Her parents, Oh my god. Okay that was so fake.

American Horror story did a better job. 

Which is probably why it kept me from killing myself. I watched Violet do it and it scared me. It scared me so I didnt do it. 

You know when I first read the books I guess I was really confused because I thought Mr Porter raped Hannah. I was like in 8th grade. 

Okay so Hannah Baker is still dead. The episode is over. 

How are they going to do season 2? 

I mean Tyler is Obviously going to shoot up the school and Alex tried to off himself. It’s Obvious Alex isnt going to die.  It’s Obvious Tyler isnt going to kill him. 

~

I liked watching this. 

I mean aside from it taking me two months to finish because,  well it kind of was triggering.

Side note:

I am not contemplating suicide please do not message me or call the cops. 

Also for anybody who is. 

National Suicide Prevention LifelineCall 

1-800-273-8255

[fishbians]

learning to actually enjoy food again is a process but!

ig im making this post partly for archival reasons, and partly because i think it might help other people in similar (?) situations to me

fall 2018 - may 2019 was an extremely hard time for me. my girlfriend of 1.5 years broke up with me, i was in college about to go to an international conference with what felt like nothing to present, and i realized i had few if any friends there. actually, all of my friends within my major were studying abroad, and i was completely alone. i was 6 hours away from home, and became so depressed i lost 15 pounds 2 months after the breakup. gaining weight is difficult for me, so a 15 lbs drop put me in dangerous territory if i were to get sick.

since then i’ve recovered some of that weight, about 5 to 8 lbs of it depending. mentally and emotionally, i am in a much better place. but one issue still lingered from that time: i have lost interest in food. before fall 2018 i already had a somewhat built in disinterest in food; if i was busy, i wouldnt eat simply because i’d forget to. spectrum brain sometimes gets Super Engrossed in a task, and then 6 hours have gone by and i haven’t eaten anything. so this made it a lot worse.

since i’ve been home, i’ve been working part-time in retail, and if we know anything about retail it’s that you get about one break a shift (a possible 15 if i have a short shift, and a mandatory unpaid 30 if i have a longer shift). this has made it even harder for me to get back on a consistent eating schedule. i can feel the toll it’s begun to take on my body, and so like i said, im posting this partly for my own archival purposes, and partly for anyone else who might find it useful.

my main dilemma that i noticed since i’ve been back home is that i’m just not excited when i eat food. when i have to eat lunch, it’s not, “aw fuck yeah, i’m gonna eat some mf PASTA” it’s, “ah, fuck, i have to go give my body sustenance.” if im busy, i get irritated because my task is being interrupted (a spectrum brain thing i think). if im not busy, i notice its just that im not excited about the flavor or event of Food. and so i asked myself, why the Fuck is this happening? this isnt, like, a normal thing that people usually experience. usually everyone around me is so excited about food.

i thought it was probably some sort of leftover symptom from a combination of things: 1) repetitive on-the-go on-campus food for the past 3 years, and 2) depression and lack of eating from the past year. actually, if we go farther back, this has been happening probably since high school, though on a subtler level, since i was so overwhelmed with schoolwork i rarely had consistent meals.

there are a few things that are consistent here:

stress

pace of my environment

lack of meal variety

those second and third ones especially are really notable to me, i think, because i notice im a really fucking fast eater. especially if i want to get back to something i was doing earlier. sometimes it’s required but a lot of times it’s not. the other thing, lack of meal variety, is something ive been trying to tackle too. i think that lack of enrichment with different flavors and textures makes food dull. the problem is, spectrum brain is a little bitch and HATES certain textures. it is one PICKY motherfucker. we like tomatoes and bell peppers - ONLY IF the they are diced very finely, and put in a carb (like pasta, rice...etc). so it makes it really hard for me to have meal variety when the taste might be fine but the texture is something my brain rejects. one issue at a time, i guess.

what i did this weekend was really good, though. Really Good. i pulled some resources from my nutritionist i had on campus (i can send those to anyone upon request) and made two things:

a shopping list

a meal list

the thing about me and grocery shopping is this: when i have to grocery shop, i have to ask myself, what do i wanna eat over the next week or two? and my brain goes, who the fuck knows, kid! and so i end up buying some of the things i like, but not having enough variety to keep me Enriched. a lot of the food goes to waste, or i forget about the options i have, etc. furthermore, now that i work, i can’t keep buying food from my store, its not economical or healthy. so i needed to really buckle down and do meal prep, and do it well, because my job is demanding.

so! i pulled some meal ideas and snack ideas from my nutritionist’s handouts, and made a shopping list. then i made a meal list, which breaks down meals that i know i like for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then snacks. i have to be eating about 5 times a day consistently to gain weight. 3 meals and 2 snacks minimum. then, in a separate column, i indicated if it was a “work-ready” meal, so i knew how many i could pack as lunches or snacks.

now i have that list to look at if i dont know what to eat! because as stupid as it sounds, i have a really hard time synthesizing the groceries i’ve bought and the options i have, especially when it’s mixed in with my parents’ food in the fridge and pantry. that list of meals i can reference will hopefully help me 1) not waste food and 2) feel like i have some variety.

my other thing that ive been doing to help me get excited about food, and to also slow the FUCK down when i eat (to help me savor flavors) is being social when i eat. especially since a lot of my friends are still in college right now or work, when i can, i take my meals out and sit with my parents. it not only forces me to slow down eating by talking, but also makes me feel less lonely, which was a really bad issue i had in college. i took almost every meal alone. and humans are social! and the social part is helping a lot.

so if youre even reading this, thanks for reading. like i said, this was mostly for archival purposes, but for people with similar issues as me, i hope this helped in some way too.

[rusticrevivals]

My mother does not approve of swearing. Of even the most mild sort.  My sister and I were not even allowed to say ‘shut up’ to each other without being sharply reprimanded.  When my father used to say “what the hell?” in absent-minded consternation over some project he was attempting to repair, she would sharply remind him with his name or an exclamation of shock, that our young, innocent ears were in the vicinity. One of my very earliest memories when I was about 6 and my sister 4, was when we collected our first trial instruments from the London Suzuki Institute, Jennifer’s being the instrument she still plays hours daily as her profession and passion, and mine being the instrument I finally sold to help fund my own profession and passion.

  As my mother, who had had to take a few lessons on each instrument first just so that she could help us at home, was attempting to make a sound from Jennifer’s strings (in front of both sets of grandparents, I might add, who were most interested in these new additions to the family) she became exasperated because no sound was emanating, and in her frustration she said her “F-word”:  “Oh, FIDDLESTICKS!”  without realizing how incredibly apt and timely this choice of ‘swear word’ actually was.  (Although we laughed at her, it became even MORE apt when we realized the problem was in fact to do with the bow, or ‘fiddlestick’  – she had forgotten to resin it!)

Richard’s sons both took violin lessons for a while too, and we still have each of their instruments at Blue Belldon Farm, for some reason, but of course I’ve never owned another ‘cello  (“violincello” is its proper name; thus the apostrophe in front of it each time is technically correct) since I was 18 and sold it to buy my first proper showjumper.  Our father always got a kick out of saying that Jennifer was busy ‘FIDDLIN’ AROUND’ whilst I was outside just “HORSIN’ AROUND’.   But the daily reminders of ‘fiddling’ are everywhere around us.  As mentioned last week, the New Denmark ‘Music Ranch’ has a country band every Saturday night with Atlantic-based expert ‘fiddlers’ (although having been brought up on ‘proper classical music’ and the term ‘violin’,  Mom and I don’t quite have the appreciation that we should have for the fast ‘fiddling’ that is a tradition in these Eastern provinces.)

But as soon as I came here last spring I began seeing and hearing the word ‘fiddle’ in another sense.  Fiddleheads are everywhere!   Plaster Rock, one of our nearest towns, is the Fiddlehead Capital of Canada, and being that our goal is to live self-sufficiently here, Mom/Joy gave us a book called Edible Plants of Atlantic Canada.  The chapter that takes up the most pages is all about the picking and cooking of fiddleheads.  They are highly celebrated here and other than the World Pond Hockey which was mentioned in last week’s blog, they are a main attraction to the area:

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Fiddleheads are one of the first signs of spring, and since we had a bit of a thaw last week, and actually see some grass blades emerging in the Birch Grove and under the apple trees where the ground is slightly warmer because of the tree roots, we are perhaps prematurely, already getting excited about harvesting these delightful delicacies. Fiddleheads are essentially ferns before they become ferns. They are the furled up stage of a fern when they just start to shoot through the ground in early spring.  As they emerge through the fertile, wet April soil, they grow and unfurl quickly, sometimes lasting just a few days in their furled-up stage.

Though all ferns have a fiddlehead stage, it’s the Ostrich fern that is most commonly eaten, and it tastes, when boiled and then sauteed in butter, very much like a combination between broccoli and asparagus. In the farmers’ markets, where they will only be sold for about 10 days, they can be quite pricey, so we definitely will be hunting the marshes and swamps for them ourselves!

Fiddleheads grow prolifically throughout the damp areas of the Eastern Seaboard. Though they are not hard to find, people tend to keep their locations secret so they will not be over -harvested.  Scary thing, though.   Some fiddleheads look like the Ostrich fern varieties and are not only not edible but can be toxic. So, just as I didn’t attempt to harvest the multitude of wonderful-looking mushrooms that sprouted all over our lawn last autumn, I am tentative about this process also.

  In the book Mom gave us as a Christmas present, it mentions an interesting bit of folk lore: it was once believed that to eat fiddleheads would make one invisible! (Kind of ironic, given that the old Polaroid above DOES make us look nearly so!)  Shakespeare even refers to this in Henry IV, Part 1  when he writes “We have the receipt of fern-seed; we walk invisible”. The “fern-seed” superstition pops up again in “The Fair Maid of the Inn,” a  17th century comedy by John Fletcher, et al., as well as in Ben Jonson’s “The New Inn.”  A wonderfully-named fiddlehead cookbook ,  “Fiddleheads and Fairies”, by Nannette Richford, includes many references to the mysticism behind these succulent tasties.

A neighbour recently gave us a frozen bag of them to try. (Herein is a humourous example of rural life, especially among the proud Danish community.  This lady’s husband was ill, so I made some extra chicken and vegetable soup for them, and sent it over in a thermos with Richard. He came back with home-baked coffeecake, a bar of marzipan and the aforementioned bag of frozen greens!)  We ate them immediately for lunch, boiling for about 6 minutes as directed (just in case there are any dangerous toxins left in them!) and then frying with some butter and a touch of salt.  Absolutely delicious!

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I put a walnut in the one photo, to show you the size of them before cooking (although they don’t actually shrink in size as do so many vegetables, as you can see when put out on the plate at right.

That day must have had violins and decorative scrolls in the vibrational airways, because in the afternoon, in our Scrabble game, I could have TWICE put down variations of the word ‘violin’ (although nothing on the board ever did lend itself to my doing so!) And once while I was waiting the half-hour or so that is standard for Richard to take his bloody turn, I looked over to where one of his boys’ old violins (out of their cases to get humidity from our humidifier) was laid out near my beautiful hand-made butter dish by Ontario potter Natalie (from Remembrances Pottery , a friend who worked hard to make the Carlisle Country Craft and Old-fashioned Market Mercantile a success :   https://www.etsy.com/shop/RemembrancesPottery )  How beautiful these ‘scrolls’ look side-by-side!  And you can certainly see where the “Fiddlehead” delicacy gets its name!

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  Richard went to meet his brother where he lives in Saint John this past week, and they had a flying trip down to Cape Cod to look at some car parts his brother wanted.  Richard noticed that the fiddlehead is a symbol of beauty throughout the province, as this sculpture in the city centre is a popular photo for tourists year-round as well .  (That’s right, neither Saint John nor Boston/Cape Cod have snow anymore!)

So yes, while we’ve enjoyed the respite of the winter months to recuperate from the struggles of the big move out here, on top of the arduous efforts to plant, tend, harvest  and preserve both garden and orchard, we ARE looking forward to spring! Mom/Joy is even more anxious than we are for it, as she just returned from her two weeks in Florida with her Aunt Jane, and was none-too-pleased to see those 8 foot banks of snow still along our back roads and caked on the cliff walls as we climbed up Lucy’s Gulch!    She had brought back for us a T-shirt each with a happy stick figure on a lawn tractor, and this has definitely got Richard chomping the bit in anticipation of the first time he can fire up the ole John Deere.

  It was his idea to wear the shirts with the snow outside the window in the background.  The irony is actually a bit sad at this point, however!  We harken back to last spring, the week before I moved out here, when my friend Leanne was visiting from Scotland.   She’s coming again this summer, and Richard has promised her another try on the lawn tractor. (Although she’s a good ole country girl as well, who grew up on the 25,000 acre estate on which I worked with her in Aberdeenshire, in 2009, she had never had the opportunity to cut grass on a tractor, as all the bigger jobs on the estate were naturally done by the team of maintenance staff and groundskeepers! So she put up with the long-winded professorial lectures from my dear counterpart, and endured his shouting when her ‘track’ wasn’t perfectly aligned, or when she didn’t raise the mower at the right moment, and apparently she’s coming back for more of the same – only on the sides of mountainous hillsides this time!)

I look back now on this dreadful Ontario ‘flatness’, and just think how blissfully happy we are to be here,  with our stellar and breath-taking views, away from the busy roads, (I remember waiting to snap the above shot so I  could catch the moment with no cars whizzing by on the highway!) the pollution, the noise…  But I DO miss being able to be out in the garden already, as I know some of you in Ontario are doing!  My friend Anne in Carlisle thought it hilarious to send me the following. The chick is even wearing my hat and peasant skirt here!

That’s about the size of it here, too. We are desperate to get turning over some ground with the pitchfork and rototiller!  Remember last spring, when I posted this cartoon, where Richard thought he was made to look old but I thought I looked JUST like the female graphic?

Well, I told him I wouldn’t do anymore ‘devilish’ comics with pitchforks in hand this year.  So instead, I have done an artists’ rendering of the Canadian Gothic, complete with live-in mother:

And I even have the artist, in fields of gorgeous green, painting it on his canvas!

Surely Pippi can’t complain about this, as it’s his actual FACE?  Anyway, the pitchfork is representative, not just of the devil and devilish qualities, but is of course exactly what it stands for – the act of ‘pitching something to the side’.  So, although my mother detests  swearing of any kind, and although my old  co-“Katima-victim” Dave Landry taught me that “Fiddlesticks” is not the REAL “F-word”, I have taken it upon myself to tell winter to go

    And stay tuned for next week, when we WILL begin planting, whether or not there is still snow out there (and there will be!).   We ordered all our seeds yesterday (organic, with biodegradable packaging, from the same company as last year – Hawthorne Farm in Ontario), and Richard has made most of the seeding tables for our basement greenhouse.  All that remains is to drive over the ‘wall’to Trumpty Dumbty-land, where we can buy flourescent lights much more cheaply than here, sadly, get them hung, get the earth into the tables, and voila!  Seeds will be going in for our whole next year’s quality smorgasbording ! It’s nearly time!  Dirt under the (non-existent) fingernails again! Wahoooooooooo!

Fiddleheads and Pitchforks My mother does not approve of swearing. Of even the most mild sort.  My sister and I were not even allowed to say 'shut up' to each other without being sharply reprimanded.