Marya Hornbacher
Marya Hornbacher
Marya Justine Hornbacheris an American author and freelance journalist...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth4 April 1974
CountryUnited States of America
food people eating-disorder
Some people who are obsessed with food become gourmet chefs. Others become eating disorders.
skeletons anorexia eating-disorder
We turn skeletons into goddesses and look to them as if they might teach us how not to need.
way enough
And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way.
letting-go chaos ends
There is, in the end, the letting go.
dream nice fall
That’s the nice thing about dreams, the way you wake up before you fall.
memories brain madness
Madness strips you of memory and leaves you scrabbling around on the floor of your brain for the snatches and snippets of what happened, what was said, and when.
real fall long
But new love only lasts so long, and then you crash back into the real people you are, and from as high as we were, it's a very long fall, and we hit the ground with a thud.
suicide mind calories
The term “starvation diet” refers to 900 calories a day. I was on one-third of a starvation diet. What do you call that? One word that comes to my mind: “suicide.
dying life-is biggest-fear
The biggest fear of my life is living. My second biggest fear is dying.
memories emotional long
All of us carry around countless bags of dusty old knickknacks dated from childhood: collected resentments, long list of wounds of greater or lesser significance, glorified memories, absolute certainties that later turn out to be wrong. Humans are emotional pack rats. These bags define us.
yellow joy contradicting
The joy is an absurd yellow tulip, popping up in my life, contradicting all the evidence that shows it should not be there.
writing firsts madness
For me, the first sign of oncoming madness is that I'm unable to write.
evening-light glasses water
In our absence, the violet early evening light pours in the bay window, filling the still room like water poured into a glass. The glass is delicate. The thin, tight surface of the liquid light trembles. But it does not break. Time does not pass. Not yet.
tone hats speak
...Someone speaks in soft tones to me and says I am psychotic, but it's going to be all right. I put on my hat, unperturbed, and ask for some crayons.