morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: in which things go back to being not good
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014/01/in-which-things-go-back-to-being-not.html
In which things go back to being not good. Her name is Valentina. She can't be much older than I am. She looks like she should be seen between the pages of a magazine or on billboards or strutting down a catwalk. Definitely not sitting in this small, plain office. When she speaks, I find myself listening to her accent instead of her words. I can't quite place it. Russian maybe? She's not a Model though. She's my new Psychiatrist. I met my lunch goal 5 out of 7 days. My dietitian is very pleased. Myself r...
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: the notebook
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-notebook.html
Tomorrow is my first day of DBT, and I am panicking because I don't know if I should bring a notebook to write in or not. I was going to ask Molly on Monday, but she had to cancel on me. I could just bring one. But if no one else does, I'm going to feel so stupid. I can feel it already. That horrible shame creeping across my face. I'll feel the same way if I don't bring one and everyone else does. I had an appointment with the treatment center doctor last night. Oh, so, overeating? Now I'm both offended ...
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: say you'll remember me
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014/12/say-youll-remember-me.html
Say youll remember me. My sentences are trailing off, skipping down rabbit holes. I am trying to write something because I want to write more, but I keep losing my thoughts. My thumb burns from holding the lighter wrong. Typical. Do you ever think about that girl who was obsessed with Hitler? I tell my fingers. What am I trying to say? God, I just realized this is sounding like a suicide note. But I am sad. Hopeless is the word I used in therapy. Many, many times. They say. Go here. It, but it doesn't.
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: October 2014
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014_10_01_archive.html
These words, down on paper. I never stop writing. I write as often as I breathe. There are pages and pages of words stuck in my head. I organize them into neat sentences and paragraphs, but my fingers never move. I am somewhere outside myself, watching, writing. I am writing the story of myself. Not always. Sometimes I am the protagonist. Sometimes the antagonist. But there are the times when I can't bear the weight of my own story, so I step aside and write. I want to give you an art project. My co-work...
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: living
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2015/06/living.html
I miss writing here. I miss all of you lovely people. I'm tired of being afraid because it feels like all of my meaningful words have evaporated. I'm tired of being afraid that all I have left is superficial and shallow. I lost my job at the end of April, and it felt like a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air. This is the part where it would be easy to say, "and they all lived happily ever after.". But in real life, the chapters keep going. I get to work with people I want. To create. But I still lay...
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: blue
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014/11/blue.html
In case you thought it was just a figure of speech. November 23, 2014 at 9:48 PM. You look gorgeous my dear! It matches your blog ;). November 24, 2014 at 5:10 AM. Love it, love it, love it! November 24, 2014 at 6:03 PM. I like your cat print shirt too, and your kitty is photobombing the photo. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. In which things go back to being not good. Danger night, alternately titled "a lot of Sherlock gifs". I'm going to be better at this.
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: December 2014
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014_12_01_archive.html
Say youll remember me. My sentences are trailing off, skipping down rabbit holes. I am trying to write something because I want to write more, but I keep losing my thoughts. My thumb burns from holding the lighter wrong. Typical. Do you ever think about that girl who was obsessed with Hitler? I tell my fingers. What am I trying to say? God, I just realized this is sounding like a suicide note. But I am sad. Hopeless is the word I used in therapy. Many, many times. They say. Go here. It, but it doesn't.
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: November 2014
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014_11_01_archive.html
Danger night, alternately titled "a lot of Sherlock gifs". The flu. I hate it. Since I didn't move off the couch for about two days, I watched a lot of Sherlock. If you have never watched Sherlock, go watch it. This post will contain spoilers, and I refuse to apologize for that because you should have watched Sherlock at least a dozen times by now]. A Scandal in Belgravia. Is my favorite episode. But as I was watching it, I caught something I'd missed before. He's on his way. Have you found anything?
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: eleven o'clock on a wednesday
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2015/02/eleven-oclock-on-wednesday.html
Eleven o'clock on a wednesday. I am sitting in Molly's office again, but everything is different. Her new office is in a wealthy suburb that takes me half an hour to reach. The lobby of the building sparkles with marble floors and carefully placed black leather chairs. Once I came in to find a woman setting up an enormous golden harp. She left the recovery center. I found out. I made an appointment. It's both comforting and strange. I hate roller coasters. When things are good, I go up. I feel like I...
morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com
vice&&virtue: thoughts
http://morevicethanvirtue.blogspot.com/2014/04/thoughts.html
The snow is gone, and in its place green grass welcomes me every morning. The snow has stopped, and now it rains. It rains and my knee aches, but I will not complain. I want to breathe in the green, the bare ground, the birds chirping. I go to the window every few minutes to make sure it's still there, that it wasn't all a dream. I've stopped seeing my dietitian. I continue pretending that I am fine. I wonder if it's just human nature to stand stubbornly in the way of time. What are you afraid of? I wish...
