Lonely Hearts Chapel

Dear Diaries…

GRATI-FOOD JOURNAL

Following my diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder last year, I’ve been searching for ways to combat my pernicious sensations of worthlessness and emptiness. To that end, I began keeping a “grati-food” journal, wherein I pains-takingly document every caloric morsel I ingest every day, accompanied by something I’m grateful for. The effect, ideally, conjures up a ritual akin to “saying grace,” to mindfully offer up sustenance to the Universe in exchange for the sustenance it provides. To ensure some type of accountability for the whole thing, I originally shared it with a social media mutual of mine (a British food and fitness blogger, whom I refer to playfully as “My Lord.”) But if I’m serious about re-igniting my own blog and social media presence (and for good this time!) I reckon the best way to remain honest in this diary is to share it with you all. . . Author’s note: due to this journal originally being kept for a Brit, the dates are written DAY / MONTH / YEAR. Also (as previously stated elsewhere in this blog) the ultimate purpose of sharing these diaries is to help you judge yourself less for whatever you construe your own faults to be. Trust me: you’re doing fine.

“SOME LORDLY ORISONS” — an ongoing grati-food journal

MY B.P.D. THERAPY JOURNAL

Over the years, before my latest diagnosis, I’ve tried penning similar therapeutic confessional type diaries to work through all my insanity. Titles of some of these attempts include: “My Many Madnesses”; “Mister Miss Lonelyhearts vs. the shadow people: a special holiday (manic) episode”; and “THIS WOULD BE A SPOKEN WORD PIECE IF I DIDN’T SOUND SO GAY IT MAKES SOME PEOPLE IMMEDIATELY UNCOMFORTABLE.” (I shudder to think what Gore Vidal would say about me, considering his savage takedown of Truman Capote: “what you’d imagine a Brussels sprout would sound like if a Brussels sprout could talk.”) Now that I’m equipped with 1. the proper medications, 2. an elegant new notebook, and 3. the most accurate idea ever of where all and how exactly I’ve gone wrong throughout my graceless and dastardly 34 years, I plan to record these insights for the first time in my life, to the best of my ability, and share them here for the world to see: so sue me. I mean that literally, by the way; as someone who’s left naught but destruction in my wake thru dozens of people’s lives, under various pseudonyms, across several different batshit crazy phases of my life — I hereby invite anyone who recognizes themselves in my forthcoming confessions to seek me out for retribution, in whatever form you choose. You can accuse me of everything but slander, because in this diary, I shall strive to be more brutally honest than I’ve ever allowed myself to be . . . as if that’s saying much.

COMING SOON . . .

An earlier iteration of this page of my blog was titled “Heart-to-Hearts.” Below you’ll find some of the not-completely-terrible entries featured therein:

• My First Heart-to-Heart
• Make America Cake Again
• My Birthday For a Book
• Elementary Particles of Emotion

Love always,

Mister L.