Queering the Triathlete (and Other Discomforts)

A Melancholy Zebra determined to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.


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Returning to the Site of Our Failures

This Christmas season, like the Christmas before, I returned to the town of my greatest happiness and crappiest failures. Granted, I ended on a low note, so it’s fair to say that the visits are distinctly masochistic (with a couple exceptions– notably visiting my cycling friend, my scholar friend, and my Not Normal friend. I add this addendum because at least one of them reads this blog at least some of the time. It’s not painful in the slightest to see all of you lovelies.)

However, there is something to be said for returning to the places where you felt the most pain, grief, and regret, to feeling those awful emotions again at their greatest potency. It’s a very solid reminder: Never Again. Never Fucking Again.

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A Borderline’s “FP”

FP = “Favorite Person”

I recently learned about this term when I started browsing Tumblr again (“The horror! The horror!”) While tumbling through the various tags looking for some camaraderie, I kept seeing this acronym. Fp. Fp. Fp. What the shit is an Fp? Fart pancake? Flabby pancreas? Flirty parakeet?

And then: Ooooh!! Favorite Person. I have one of those. … I have a ton of those…  Continue reading


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The Gift Within My Diagnosis

For at least a year, I was not allowed to eat cheese. I was not allowed to go jackknife into a fabulous round of brie or, god forbid! goat cheese. It was the worst culinary year of my life, not being allowed to indulge in that magical coagulated milk.

This terrible fate was thrust upon me in an effort to quell the wretched fiend known (idiotically) as BPD. And for the years since, I’ve struggled with this son of a bitch and made every effort possible to kill off his stupid hydra heads that grow back in slimy multitudes. With great thanks to this whole mindfulness nonsense, I’m much calmer, wiser, and stronger than I was several years ago.

Still, some days are better than others.

But not until today have I ever thought of BPD as a gift, and maybe it is.

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Metta Practice as a Borderline

Many different sorts of meditation retreats are available to the sadistic folks who want to spend several days alone with their own mind: vipassana, jhana, zen… the list goes on, and some are more specific than others.

For example, I attended a retreat this week focused especially on cultivating metta. Translation: Love Everything.

Well, it was 99.99% successful! Continue reading


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8 Things to Know About Mindfulness Practice

Here I present to you my list of things one might expect when beginning mindfulness practice– the obvious, the unexpected, and the downright frightening. As I’m still relatively new at this, please add in your own in the comments! (I’m talking to you, J.)
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