Hello my loves!
I have published a slew of researched papers and creative writing pieces lately, and as much as I enjoy writing them, they don't feel as laid back as many of my older posts. Granted, many of them were atrociously written, but I know you kept reading despite my horrible grammar because of who I was, who I still am in many ways.
I am not kidding when I say that I never would have kept writing had it not been for your emails, so the relationship I maintain with my readers is one I don't ever take for granted.
So let's chat.
What seems like forever ago (a year and a half ago, I think?), I wrote about support systems, and what it means to be a part of a family (http://fudgeperfection.blogspot.com/2012/03/family.html). Definitively not the most flattering portrait of my parents, but I was 16, sue me. I had my friends, I had you, and most of the time that was enough.
Then I graduated from the school I'd attended for 5 years, moved 7 hours away, and went looking for a new family.
It felt like a tornado ran right through me; I enjoyed the rush of getting swept off the ground I had known my whole life, but a few weeks in I looked down and realized I had nothing tying me down to earth. Everything was new, everything was different, and I couldn't do anything about it.
So I went looking for control elsewhere, in a dark place where I have engaged in wars I had never planned on reliving: food.
I developed a disordered eating habit (not ED, don't panic loves) where I only ate apples for days on end. At first, I told myself I was just being healthy, fruits are good for you, right?
But I started feeling faint in the morning, and distracting my poor classmates with my grumbling stomach.
So I looked deeper into my weird behaviour, and realized I was compulsively eating apples because it was the one thing I felt I could control, so I went a tad overboard.
Upon my awakening, I obviously started eating actual food (I still love apples, though, that shit's portable and delicious) but also went looking for those roots I had lost while I spun out of control.
And that's when I remembered my friend Molly aka facebook.com/MollyPopsOfColor.
She and I are basically the same person, except she has awesome red hair and is a killer makeup artist.
And even after the first email I sent her, I felt better. What had I been doing all this time, trying to navigate the world on my own? It's not about avoiding disasters, it's about finding shelter.
Breathe in, breathe out, and find someone to talk to :)