a page of self-realization of a womyn who is sinking in the troubled waters of grief, depression, self-harm, cutting/scratching & eating disorders
Friday, June 30, 2006
A Shitty Week
It's been a shitty week.
There were moments of everything being mellow but then there was shit the rest of the time.
I've managed to avoid my Dad whenever I've stopped by my house, by coincidence it's been while he's out. I don't want to hear him call me stupid or tell me that I'm not doing things right or get mad/yell at me again. I know that this will continue to happen every step I take towards moving out and buying my own place, but it takes a lot of energy out of me. I can't take it any more from him.
I began to realise today that some of the conditions that I grew up in were not good and kind of abusive. A couple of weeks ago I saw a story on the news about foster children who were removed from a foster family because of the condition of the house they were living in. The news showed the kitchen with dirty dishes everywhere, rotten food in the fridge and on the counter, disgusting litter boxes that hadn't been cleaned in over a week, broken appliances/furniture and generally messy house. I started to cry. Quite a bit of these scenes looked like my house did when I was growing up. It wasn't good enough for foster children to live in, but it was for me. I don't know if my Dad saw that story, but I hope he did. Not that he would even see any resemblance because he doesn't fuckin' get anything.
For over 3.5 years I lived with no power or heat in my bedroom. And my Dad refused to get it looked at by an electrician because my room was not clean, even though for periods of time during those years it was spotless and I wasn't even living in it. The living room where one of the TVs was didn't have power either, so we ran several extension cords into the room. Dad finally let an electrician come when I began to paint my bedroom. As it turns out there was nothing wrong with any of the outlets in my room, the problem with the circut was with a light switch in the living room. I can remember sleeping with 3 blankets on my bed in the winter time, and in a sweatshirt several times because I was just getting to cold and wasn't able to sleep otherwise. Sometimes it was colder than camp gets in the uninsulated cabins at night. I was used to using candles in my room and in the living room for light so that I could read and study. I got in a shit a few times for wax getting on the carpet and the tables, because of course it was my fault that I had to have a candle lit.
Whenever Dad gets frustrated he gets angry and tries to blame me for it. I could have nothing to do with what happened but I seem to be the target of his anger. Even if I'm just in the house and at the other end of the house he is freakin' out at the frying pan on the stove, he'll still yell at me for it. Because in his mind the pan is splattering all over the bread box because I left the lid down on the bread box, not because it is 6 inches away from the stove. Or when he drops a glass in the sink and it shatters, which is my fault because if I loaded the dishwasher then he wouldn't have to touch the dishes (including his own). Or when I was 7 and I slipped on the kitchen floor and dropped my empty cereal bowl and it smashed into a bunch of pieces or when I spilt milk on the chair in the living room. I would always try really hard to cover up any mistake because I knew he would yell at me. And I would get upset and cry. That would result in him getting mad at me for crying.
All this and Wednesday was the 21st anniversary of mom's death. No one from my family called or emailed me. Even though we all knew what day it was. I kept myself so busy that day, worked all day, spent only half an hour by myself, went out that night and then finally had a break down after I left my friends. I was so tired and at first I couldn't figure out why. It made Thursday a really hard day to convince myself to get out of bed...I almost didn't bother. But I knew that I had a meeting scheduled at work.
One friend moved like 6 hours away for work and another finished his contract and is in Quebec and then Ghana this summer, not coming back to BC until the fall. The two of them have been such amazing friends and so supportive this year and in previous years. It sucks that I won't have as many chances to be face to face with them. I know that they are just an email away though.
And then this evening I got stuck in the Massey tunnel driving from Vancouver to White Rock for 10 minutes! I cried and I prayed so hard until I was out in the open again hearing the music on the radio. It was so scarey! I had no control over it, there was no warning, a car in the other lane had just stalled so everyone had to merge into my lane. It was awful.
My dad does not want me to have any independence. He got pissed off when I told him I had a pre-approved mortgage, saying that I would be stupid to go for that much and that "you know, you have to make the payments every month". Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad. Fuck that. I feel so dumb and worthless. I thought if anything he should appreciate all of the saving that I've done over the years to be able to have an awesome down payment. After all he was a loans officer for the bank for 36 years.
He doesn't want me to move out. He doesn't even like the idea of me house sitting for a month in White Rock. He was shocked to hear I would be staying here for that long. Even though I still have to stop by the house once in a while. I'm working at my job out there still 2-3 days a week. And today I had to do laundry and pack. He bought muffins at the store and suggested that I take some with me. I told him I would have another when I stop by tomorow. What the hell? He's trying to make me stay and need him by buying me "treats". He has no idea what I feel like when I pig out on food and what it causes me to do.
Apparently he was talking about down-sizing to a smaller house or a town house. And in his mind I would be moving with him. My sister pointed out to him that I'm 26 and that I can live on my own. As if he hasn't kept me long enough in that unchanging house. No wonder it freaks me out so much to think about moving out. He doesn't want me to and he's let me know that my whole life.
Other people have said that this is awesome for me. And that I'm not stupid for wanting to move out. How can I tell who is telling the truth? How do I know if my dad, who has always been around me, who supposedly knows me, is lying? Fuck this is confusing.
Maybe I can't move out. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am stupid for thinking that I can manage on my own. I doubt I can actually go through with moving and buying a condo for myself.
Praise God the last two days have not been nearly has hard as Sunday was for me! It's not that they have been way easier but I haven't heard of anyone else dying (which is always good). So I've been better able to adjust to knowing that one of my colleagues is in a really deep grief. I've emailed back and forth with him a few times now and I know that he's surviving or at least he's breathing. In the last email he was even joking about my hair, saying that it reminds him of the blue twilight sky that changes and becomes blue again. (I have blue hair right now.) I had never even compared my hair to the sky before and I think it's hilarious that in the state he is in right now that's what he is remembering about me and making him have hope in the dawn of tomorrow.
Part of me realizes that yesterday and today I kept myself busy for 12-13 hours straight, as in out of the house for that entire time. And I was working, not really looking after myself. Which as one of my friends pointed out to me tonight includes the eating element of self-care. Although if I hadn't mentioned that what I was eating at Bread Garden was basically the only real meal/food that I'd had today, then he wouldn't have known any different. And to be honest he doesn't really know enough of what I've been dealing with these past 6 months to understand fully what it means for me to be eating out with people, when they aren't eating food and only having coffee. Normally if I eat when I'm out it's because I need to fit in with those that I'm with. And then he commented on the fact that I didn't finish my dinner. Fuck. Give me a fuckin' break! My other friend who was there reads this site and has a good idea of what I've been dealing with, and I think pretty much realized that I was eating a lot to be eating anything off my plate and that I had a salad with my sandwich for some variety even though I wouldn't be able to finish either of them. She knows that acting like the "Protein Police" is fun at times but not really worth while, he obviously is clueless! He always has been though.
Since eating my stomach has felt like it's tied in a knot and I just feel gross. It sucks.
And I feel totally guilty. Today I was at the World Urban Forum with the UN and I heard stories of women and refugees all over the World living in poverty not having access to food let alone clean drinking water. And here I am living in the developed world with food in my kitchen, clean tape water (not to mention bottled water) and the ability to chose where I buy my food and who prepares it. But what do I do? I get the majority of my nutrition from pills and supplements. And when I do eat I tend to waste food and I certainly don't enjoy it (or I do for a short moment and then I don't). Seriously, how fucked up is this situation that I've found myself in? There are people in Africa who receive food aid from the UN and have had their rations cutback to 1000 calories (or less in some cases) per day. I won't even mention what my average intake is per day. I live with privilege and power, yet it seems like I don't even acknowledge it fully because of my problem with food. Or maybe this is a sign of my privilege, that I am able to admit to having a problem with food in a developed country and have the support and resources to work towards recovering from it?
I don't think I've ever posted a survey on this blog. But this one made me think adn admit things to myself that I haven't always remembered or given any value to event hough they may have affected my life. So here it is...
Tally up the number of "bad things" that you've done. 1) smoked 2) consumed alcohol 3) slept in the same bed with someone of the opposite sex 4) slept in the same bed with someone of the same sex 5) made out with someone of the opposite sex 6) made out with someone of the same sex 7) had someone in your room of the opposite sex 8) watched porn 9) bought porn 10) done drugs TOTAL: 7
11) taken pain killers 12) taken someone else's prescription medicine 13) lied to your parents 14) lied to a friend 15) snuck out of the house 16) done something illegal 17) cut yourself 18) hurt someone 19) wished someone to die 20) seen someone die TOTAL: 9
21) missed curfew 22) stayed out all night 23) eaten a carton of ice cream by yourself 24) been to a therapist 25) been to rehab 26) dyed your hair 27) received a ticket 28) been in a wreck 29) been to a club 30) been to a bar TOTAL: 9
31) been to a wild party 32) seen the Mardi Gras 34) had a spring break in Florida 35) sniffed anything 36) wore black nail polish 37) wore arm bands 38) wore t-shirts with band names 39) listened to rap 40) own a 50 cent cd TOTAL: 6
41) dressed gothic 42) dressed prep 43) dressed punk 44) dressed grunge 45) stole something 46) been to drunk to remember anything 47) blacked out 48) fainted 49) had a crush on your neighbor 50) had someone sneak into your room TOTAL: 10
51) snuck into some one else's room 52) had a crush on someone of the same sex 53) been to a concert 54) dry humped someone 55) been called a slut 56) called someone a slut 57) installed speakers in your car 58) broke a mirror 59) showered at someone of the opposites sex's house 60) brushed your teeth with someone else’s toothbrush TOTAL: 8
61) consider Ludacris your favorite rapper 62) seen an R rated movie in theaters 63) cruised the mall 64) skipped school 65) had an eating disorder 66) had an injury 67) gone to court 68) walked out of a restaurant without paying 69) caught something on fire 70) lied about your age TOTAL: 7
71) owned an apartment 72) cheated on your boyfriend/girlfriend 73) cheated with someone 74) got in trouble with the police 75) talked to a stranger 76) hugged a stranger 77) kissed a stranger 78) rode in the car with a stranger 79) been sexually harassed 80) been verbally harassed TOTAL: 7
81) met face to face with someone you met online 82) stayed online for 12 hours straight 83) talked on the phone for more than 6 hours straight 84) watched tv for 12 hours straight 85) been to a fair 86) been called a bad influence 87) cursed 88) prank called someone 89) laid in the bed with someone of the opposite sex 90) cheated on a test TOTAL: 10
91) cheated on homework 92) held hands with someone of the opposite sex 93) been pushed into a pool 94) played pool 95) watched 5 hours of mtv straight 96) had a crush on someone 5 years older than you 97) had a crush on someone younger than you 98) wear eyeliner 99) skinny dipped 100) laughed at someone who was seriously hurt TOTAL: 9
GRAND TOTAL: 82%
I really don't think that some of these things are all that bad. But then some of them aren't exactly things that I'm proud of or tell people about often. A few of these things I have tried to forget but when I saw them on the list they came back to me. I have choices in life and at times I don't think I've made the best choice when given a dilema. A fiend reminded me of this tonight. That God has given me free will, to make my own decisions. But there are times when the demon inside of me leads me towards the wrong decision.
Today was a really hard day. I was depressed to the point of crying whenever I was driving in my car. I know that when I do this it's because I'm not being honest with people or so much has happened in a short time that it's built up and I haven't had a chance to deal with it. I got to work this morning to find out that my colleagues partner had died on Friday morning, so he wasn't at work this morning. He leads the musc in the service, so worship seemed to be a bit scattered. I was the most stable person out ofall of the ministers. Joan was crying in the office 5 minutes before the service trying to pull herself together. And then I had to put up with the annoying parent, who brings her boy to Sunday School with his own painting activity to do! What the fuck?! So of course he doesn't want to do what the others are doing, let smake it htat much harder on the teacher! Piss me off. So afterwards I began to realise how upset I was to learn of the recent death. Another funeral to go to, why haven't people read the memo? I was just at a memorial service 6 weeks ago!
Needless to say I've cried lots today. I ate a bowl of ice cream and a salad, and feel like I've eaten too much today, I talked on the phone with a friend for an hour and they helped me overcome the urge to take laxitives. I thank God for her words of wisdom tonight because with all of the stress of the day, I was just wanting to take the easy way, not wanting to hear the voice of God over the demon that lurks within me. I was just consience of it tonight, enough so that I wanted to fight back even though that meant getting the support of a friend.
Most of my days recently have been pretty good, only a couple of minor meltdowns (well before today that is). However I have realised that I'm obsessed with getting ear wax out my ears, ok, actually it's scratching just inside my ear...not good I know. And during my session with my counsellor last week (while I was having a meltdown...good place to have it) I scratched the side of my finger to the point of needing a bandaid when I got to the car. Keep in mind it was no where as a bad a scratch as what I've done to my arms in the past. I hate the scars on my arms.
People think that I've gained weight and they told me so at work yesturday. They don't understand that I don't want to gain weight. I try to tell them that I haven't gained that much (in reality I've only gained 3.5 pounds since my lightest weight). When they say that to me, I hear them saying that I'm not as thin as I used to be and that I'm getting fatter. As if I want that rubbed in my face. Over the weekend I ate out everyday with friends, so I know that I gained 2 pounds, so it has been a consicous struggle to loose those pounds before I go to the doctor today and get weighed. I hate that they weigh me and record my weight, well I guess I only really hate it when I've gained weight since the last time I was there. And I'm pretty sure that's going to be what happens at this appointment. But if I had lost a bunch of weight then she would probably get worried, so I don't think that would be a good idea either. It's almost like I need to make sure I'm about the same weight as last month, at least, in order for her not to get more worried about me. I'm sure she realises that I probably fluxuate during the month and weigh less when I'm in between visits or depending on what I eat or where I go during that time.
I am so scared of being fat! Even though I've been told by friends that I'm not fat, and that my body is a gift from God, blah blah blah. I understand what they're saying to me but that isn't going to change the fact that I think I'm fat. I hate my body.
I was asked yesturday what would happen if I got too thin. This totally suprised me that someone would think I could get too thin. What the hell? I don't think I can ever be too thin. My counsellor said that's dangerous to think that way. It's not like I'm ever going to be able to weigh less than this 5 pound range that I've been in for the last 3 months, my body isn't good enough to do that. And I dont' understand why some people think that I look really skinny and others think that I don't. It's so confusing. Because obviously I know that someone is exagerating or lying to me about how I look. I just can't figure out who is and who I should be trusting on this one. Even though I have a pretty good idea who I should trust.
I really should get all of the junk food out of my house. It tempts me too much and I feel totally guilty if I indulge and eat cookies. (I found peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies...not as good as Baskin Robin's peanut butter chocolate ice cream though.)
I'm not sure what will happen when I stay at my friend's house during the coming week. They will see what I eat and when, so I don't really have that much control.
Some people can support others (dad is not one of them)
Over the last two weekends two of my friends have been really good support. At May Retreat and Conference meeting, where we eat meals in large groups and the food is prepared for us, I was overwhelmed most of the time. Each of them being fully aware of my problems with food, knew what questions to ask and when to check-in with me. I'm glad they were there and were able to help me in the way that they did. They only thing was that once I was back at home, I went right back to my old routine, there was no one here to take on their role.
I've had a really busy couple of weeks, hence why I haven't posted in a while. I think the last full day I had off was May 8th. 3.5 weeks ago. I know that this is awful because this is the pattern that I'm trying to avoid and I'm so tired from not having a sabath day. In fact in the last few days I've just cried at the end of the day because I'm wiped. I think I might take next tuesday off. I get Saturday off but I'll be at Relay for Life all night before that and that's with the church, so it's not really a break.
All this and I'm fat. I didn't weigh myself today but that's because of all the crap I ate yesturday and I know it made me gain at least 2 pounds. I look so ugly when I see myself in the mirror. I shouldn't eat as much as I do but whenever I do eat too much I somehow come up with a justicfication at the time. But like I feel right now, I always feel guilty later on. I shouldn't have eatten the big organic salad with feta cheese and the kettle chips tonight. I ate other stuff at work today as well. And Illana (one of my colleagues) was going on and on about how good I look, and how she doesn't think that I need to lose any more weight. I don't get her. I obviously don't see what she sees.
On Sunday night (after my really full weekend) my grandma was taken to emergency for x-rays. She's 102 (103 on Aug 5th) and they thought she may have broken a rib or her hip. But the x-rays are clean, no breaks or fractures at all. She justhas bruises. My dad organized me and my brother to go to the hospital to make sure everything was taken care of with her. I was still on the island when he called me, hadn't even gotten to the ferry terminal yet. And what did he do during this whole experience? He stayed at home and didn't even drive the hour to go see her in the hospital. She's his mother! Fuck! I hate the fact that he can't handle anything with her and comes up with lame-ass excuses to avoid everyting with Grandma. I told him when I got home from Grandma's on Sunday night, to go visit her this week, and he didn't. Mind you why the fuck would he listen to me? I'm not smart. I don't know anything. And right now I don't feel worthy.
