speaking with...

i've noticed that i've begun to have imaginary conversations in my head.

it's me. speaking to someone i might just like to speak to. in real life.

common enough. no?

we all do it? no.

tell me we do. that i'm not alone in this.

but, you see... the thing is. i've started having them aloud. when i'm alone. without even realizing what i'm doing. in elevators. walking down the street.

i've been caught several times, recently. it's super embarrassing.

and also, just a wee bit funny. i can see that. i haven't lost my mind completely.

the yellow is a product of cut and paste and some spell-check goodness. i can't figure out how to get rid of it. and don't really feel the need to. it's weird and makes me laugh.

trading in half-truths.

when the stomach flu hit i didn't think i'd ever get out of bed again.

but as most things do. it passed.

health returned.

and yet.

i remained. in bed.

and i slept.

some days are nothing more than experiments in resisting the urge to weep.

i can admit that i have an eating disorder. but i cannot admit depression.

i can admit that i am person who feels great sadness. and often. but i cannot admit depression.

and yet, i am...sad right now. winter blues? post-holiday decline?

the big eating disorder summit (yup, they have one of those) will take place in salzburg this year. and one of the main issues up for discussion is the newly recognized binge eating disorder. the question on the table: binge eating without occurrence of depression is not actually an eating disorder--instead it is just... overeating? not just, because things aren't so simple. but it boils down to depression as the defining factor--the tipping point.

and yet i cannot admit i am depressed.

i was. once. when this all began.

terribly so, in fact. which made the eating disorder difficult to diagnose. everyone said it was depression. anxiety. and i knew. instinctively, as my world fell apart, i knew: they were wrong.

and the depression subsided. and a slow recovery began.

and God, this recovery has been slow. i am slow. on the uptake. a late bloomer. always have been. so this should come as no surprise. and in effort to prevail i slowly, ever-so-slowly persist.

so when this funk began in october, i declared it just that: a funk. and moved on.

but breathing has been a bit harder these few months.

this is all to say.

that yes, i live in constant pursuit of laughter. and yes i do believe that anything is possible. and yes i cling to hope. just as i cling to the notion that everything happens for a reason. and hell, i have no idea what will come of all of this, so how can i judge it harshly?

but that is only half the story. that is the story i tell here because i want to believe it as much as i need others to believe in me.

but there are mornings that i cannot get out of bed. mornings when the sheer weight of my failures seems unbearable. when i don't think i'll have the energy to get out of the subway car at the necessary stop. when i can't ever imagine getting better. or imagine this ending.

so you should know. there is another side to the story. a mr. hyde to my dr. jeckyll.

*turns out yesterday was blue monday--the most depressing day of the year. i really love this blog and always enjoy what the women have to say. the latest entry covers a bit of all this.

monday maven.

i am so very honored and humbled to be featured here as this week's

monday's maven.

vanessa's blog is such a delight and anyone who lives by the mantra "i never grew up" is exactly the kind of person i'd like to be connected to.

thanks for letting me play, vanessa!

i have been sick with stomach flu.

since late, late sunday night.

and am just now beginning to come back to myself.

my joints are creaking in new and impossible ways.

and my skin tone has taken on a lovely yellowing pallor.

but the promise of having someone else do my laundry in scalding, boiling water makes me feel oh-so-much-better. (thank goodness for nyc launderers--and don't worry i'll give them specific instructions so as to avoid my germs!)

dearest self,

it's snowing today. and world is turning white. becoming new again. and you're okay.

you know that, right? that you're okay.

i know. i know this is so hard. that it has been for some time now. and it's okay to cry. and to be lonely. but i want you to know that you have so much to look forward to. that so much good is just around the corner. and everything, all of it, will have been worth it.

i smile as i write this, because i am so excited for you. for all that you have yet to experience.

life is funny. isn't it. it doesn't turn out at all like you expect. it's better. you can't see that yet, but trust me.

there are a few things i need you to know. first, you don't hate new york. i know that you think you're beginning to. you're just lonely and the city isn't terribly forgiving when it comes to this. second {and this will the most important thing i'm going to tell you} you have to reach into your resources and pull out some courage. you need to find a new job. you don't have to go back to acting right now. you don't have to ever go back if you don't want to (and i'm not going to spoil the surprise by telling you if you do). but it's time to move on. you need to find a job that you can take pride in. you are capable of so much more than cleaning tables and managing lists. and okay, so maybe your next job will be answering phones and that's okay (just make sure that the answering phones is a means to an end--choose a job with the potential for upward movement).