This posting may include rambling and disconnected thoughts.
I’ve just been catching up on reading blogs I follow. There are a lot of them and they are all over the place. There’s always something, however small, that I’ve connected with in the blogger that has me going back to their blog. In reading this morning, I’ve been transported back years in my own situation to when I was hospitalized and feeling isolated from the world by my “issues”. I’ve remembered a friend’s terrible depression after the suicide of her husband. I see joy in the world in some blogs, though photography that I wish I could emulate. Physical medical issues have come up reminding me of years I worked in a bread factory while struggling with depression and bulimia.
Looking at my last post, and the pictures of myself, is not setting well right now. I can’t stand the sight of myself. I know I could edit the post and delete the pictures, but that’s not the point. There I am in my horrible hugeness after feasting (compulsively) my way through Christmas. I know my mom looks at my size with disdain, though she seldom says things directly to me, because of my eating disorder history, but will comment on how big other people are. I doubt she even realizes it, and it probably comes from her own issues with food and body size, but I hear and feel and internalize it all. I’m ashamed of all the weight I’ve gained, how big I am. It’s hard for me to see pictures of myself that are more than just my face. You’ve heard the phrase, “just a shadow of their former self,” well I’m the opposite. I look back at pictures when I was deep in the throes of bulimia. Just my body, not my face, was thin – THIN. I’ve never been able to have that healthily. The holidays – or anytime there’s a buffet or large amounts of food – trigger the eating disorder in me. I can’t puke because it gives me terrible chest pains, though I do still sometimes try. When I can’t puke, I feel worse because I’m stuck with the food in me! Wishing the restrictive behaviors of anorexia upon myself. But I always had to gorge and purge. Anger?
I read about people talking and working with their therapists. I’m jealous. It seems like you’re covering ground. Maybe the few therapists I worked with weren’t the best match. I need someone to push me. Otherwise I hold it all in and smile up to my top lip. Like my mom. Medications help, but they aren’t here now. I’m not feeling bad right now. But haven’t faced eating yet, talked to anyone or heard how things are going with my son. There’s been no conflict. Those are my triggers. But my chest is already tightening.
Last night, I had a really strong urge to cut because of some things going on with my son who is on vacation. When things go wrong, my fault or not, I turn it all inside. I can’t handle the uncomfortableness of discord. I wanted to talk about it. Somewhere inside I feel responsible for things not going exactly like he had planned. My husband kept saying he didn’t care. (He’s letting our son experience some natural consequences and live with it.) But just hearing the words “don’t care” and not talking about it, sent shards of guilt through me. Somehow I had done something wrong. I know I dwell, obsess, fixate … I wanted to cause myself physical pain to cover emotional pain. I REALLY wanted to cut. But I didn’t. My sister-in-law gave me two ceramic kitchen knives for Christmas. Very thin and sharp! I can’t say I haven’t had thoughts about the smaller one, the paring knife. Luckily I didn’t go there last night and haven’t for awhile. Let’s hope it stays as ideations and not actions. Life in general is better these days, so maybe it will.
Now I’m older and other things don’t look so well on me either. And I decided, before Christmas, that I would start looking for a job after the holidays. I’m feeling really scared about that. I’m a professional, educated with a master’s degree and terrified about trying to get through a job interview – if I was ever offered one. I’m so afraid of interviewing and how hard it is for me to “sell” myself as being qualified, that I’m likely to take anything, like bagging groceries. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I totally support good honest work of any kind. But I discount myself and if I can’t believe in myself, why would or should an employer? I want to use the skills I have or had, but am afraid that I’ve lost them. I don’t know. And D-Day (post holidays) is only a few days away. GULP! Can I pull the covers over my head until next year?