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Wednesday, September 28, 2016

oh, just rambling...

I'm in such a fabulous mood.  No reason for it, really.  ha!  Work really sucks right now, none of my issues have gone away, family drama is still happening....and yet, things are actually okay right now.

I didn't purge today.  At all!!  Not even once!  Nada!  Considering my track record lately...that's pretty amazing.  I'd like to say that this lack of purging was on purpose, but it wasn't.  Circumstances, the Universe, whatever....LIFE just seemed to get in the way of me purging.  My lunch break at work has been a big down-fall lately.  I went back to seeking peace and solace and getting away from coworkers...and that has morphed into isolating and attempting to relieve stress through crappy fast food.  This morning I absent-mindedly grabbed a container of raw carrots to take with me.  So for lunch, even though I most certainly did NOT want to be eating carrots for lunch, I took my damn carrots, drove PAST the fast food place, and parked my car under a tree in the park...and actually had a dose of healthy solitude rather than sickness fueled isolation.  I didn't just eat carrots though.  I'd forgotten that I had some Lara Bars stashed in my purse for "emergency" food situations.  Score!  I've found my new favorite safe food!!  Holy crap these things are delicious!  The ingredient list is safe...nothing weird in it.  Despite the calorie punch, I feel good about keeping these things in and not purging.  :)  Junk food is just so easy to purge, psychologically.

That said....

My body now hates me!!!  Raw carrots and a Lara Bar for lunch, another Lara Bar and a crap-ton of romaine and spinach with salsa for dinner...and my stomach is wondering what the heck I'm doing.  I don't know if this is bulimia bloat since my body had gotten used to purging again, or if I've over-done it with the fiber.

I hate to say it, but I think a good percentage of purging relapses (for me) are actually brought on by the physical discomfort of eating somewhat normally.  My stomach is so bloated right now, you'd think this was a food baby brought on by a huge binge.  Nope!  Ugh.  *ow*  I'm hoping this goes away soon.  I've been reading up a little on digestive and nutritional issues that are specific to bulimics....in a weird way, it's giving me some hope and making me excited to do some healthy things for myself.


Saturday, September 24, 2016

It seems lately, that I have SO much to write about....that I get too overwhelmed and end up writing nothing.  Thus, the lack of updates.  A lot of intense and heavy things have happened in the last few weeks.

My dad could have died.  Could have...but didn't.  Looking back at how it all played out, I'm amazed at God's involvement.  I was visiting Tiger Mt for a friend's graduation.  I don't keep my phone on me while I'm there, I leave it in my purse, locked away in the staff area.  That afternoon, on a whim...I asked to check my phone.  I had several missed texts and calls from my mom and sister.  My dad was in the emergency room.  He collapsed in the back yard and my mom called an ambulance.  Turns out, he had a blood clot in his leg, and several clots in his lung.  My mom was really upset with me for not being reachable.  The last thing she said to me (before hanging up on me) was "This could be fatal, keep your phone close."  GAH!!

Cue emotional hurricane. People die from blood clots!  It can be instant.  I didn't know what to think and I was suddenly feeling everything. I felt a sudden pressure to hurry up and deal with the issues between my dad and I.  I needed to make amends, forgive him, fix our relationship and make everything right again!  This triggered a huge wave of grief.  It was definitely a good thing that I was in my safe bubble of Tiger Mt when this happened.

It seemed like God rolled with the opportunity to lead me through something both painful and healing.  He very obviously guided my thoughts.  Since it was a graduation, Freddie was there.  He's.....how do I describe Freddie??  He's a genuine, kind hearted man.  He does church at Tiger Mt on Sundays, and is usually there for special events like graduations or alumni days.  I doubt he's even aware of the impact he's made on me, even the first day I met him.

**side story....
The first few weeks I was at Tiger Mt, we watched a church service online.  This was hard for me, but I tolerated it and was open to whatever God wanted to do through it.  Just as I was getting accustomed to the idea that I was "doing a church thing" every Sunday morning, they decide to change things up.  RAWR!!  Saturday afternoon I was told that Michelle's husband was going to do church with us in person.  I was NOT a fan of this idea.  I was both petrified and pissed off.  How dare they!!??  lol  Sunday morning, I sat on the floor against the wall, as close to the door as I could get....and I stared outside while some guy I didn't know sang, and talked in between songs.  No matter how much I tried to not listen, God kept focusing my attention on what Freddie was saying.  He apologized to us on behalf of all the men who had harmed us.  I remember staring coldly out the door while he said that...trying to will my heart to not shatter too noticeably.  He told us a story about a song that he wrote for his wife....about what God would say to her about her history and about His heart for her.  The song was about safety....how Jesus is a lighthouse, a focused beacon of light....guiding us and providing a safe haven in the midst of a storm.  Hearing Freddie sing that song....was like God singing directly to me.  Hot tears rolled down my face and for the first time, I was able to uncover a piece of my battered soul in front of a God who desperately wanted to heal me.  When church was over, I put my walls back up and purposely avoided people.  I slept the afternoon away.  It took a few weeks for me to warm up to Freddie and the whole church experience.  I maintained my rebellion against the "institution of church" by wearing my roommate's Slipknot t-shirt and sitting on the floor in the back of the room while everybody else sat in chairs and actually participated.  I would stare at the floor and pretend like I wasn't paying attention, but in reality, I was hanging on every word....and crying out to God inside my head.  He told us often that he saw us as his own girls, daughters.  This was tough for me to hear...my immediate thought of a father is not somebody like Freddie...a guy who very obviously has a protective and loving stance toward not only his own girls, but all of the hurting women who cross his path.
**end of side story

Back to my dad, and the visit to Tiger Mt....Freddie was there for graduation.  My inner six-year-old threw me into a bear hug when I saw him.  The significance of this didn't hit me until hours later, after I got the news about my dad.  I will never be able to hug my own father the way that I hug Freddie.  Hugging Freddie is safe, I don't have to be guarded when I'm around him.  For some reason, this realization hit me really hard that day.  In a way, it felt like my dad had actually died.  The weight of this....was heavy.  Even if (when?!) my dad and I sort through the abuse (aka: incest), I will never be safe with him.  I will never relax when I hug my dad.  I will never feel the safety of a father's love when I'm around him.  This is a very harsh and painful reality for me.

That evening, I cried and prayed the entire drive home.  I mentally shook my fist at God for not giving me a dad that I could trust, yet I cried out to Him to please spare my dad's life.....give me a chance to mend things, to find peace, to forgive him while he's still alive.  I think God started answering this prayer long before I even prayed it.

So where am I now in all of this?  I've been talking to my dad a LOT the last couple of weeks.  He was in the hospital for a few days, and is now at home, with an oxygen tank and blood thinner medication.  I called him on the phone two or three times a day.  Was it triggering?  YES!  Was it necessary?  Yes.

The sweetest part of all of this is that in the midst of some really intense pain, God provided a source of comfort and peace.  I'm able to face the fact that my dad is not a safe person for me...because God has proven that He can (and will) fill that emptiness through other people.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

why grieve?

A thought crossed my mind today.  "What, exactly, do I need to grieve?"  Why bother feeling sad or angry over the things I went through as a kid?  It feels a little like I'm playing a victim and throwing my parents under the bus.  I should be grateful, not angry.  If anything, I'm pissed at the circumstances I grew up with, not the people.  I understand why things happened the way they did and I realize that many things were beyond my control.  I also feel like....things weren't that bad.  There are others who have suffered far worse.

Is this just me "doing what I do" though?  Minimizing?  Downplaying?  I am quite the master of these things...

I think the one thing that might actually make me a little sad is the fact that I will never have the type of dad who is safe.  As long as he is alive, I will have to be careful around him.  It's necessary for me to protect myself both physically and emotionally.  He can cross boundaries in so many ways.  It shouldn't be that way between a parent and a child.  I've never been able to just throw myself into my daddy's arms...I've never felt a protective hug from him, and I never will.  Even conversations are not safe.  I have to constantly be on guard that I don't say the wrong thing or say too much....or open doors for subjects that a father and daughter should never talk about.  I will never be able to trust his advice, or lean on him for strength and support when I'm struggling.  

I think I've been holding back on expressing some of this stuff because I don't want to suddenly come up empty.  I've spent my whole life surviving the lack of a safe father....I don't want to end up attempting to fill the void with something unhealthy, or worse yet...run to my dad, hoping that things will be different.  It's easier to live without these things when I'm convinced that I never needed them in the first place.  Does that even make sense?

Even just writing this little bit...makes my heart ache.  Why not call my dad?  Give him a chance?  Share more of my life with him, agree to a weekend visit....aaaaand cue all of the unrealistic-little-girl-disney-story wishes.  *sigh*

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

at war...

So much is going on with me (yet also, nothing at all) that I don't know where to start.  I feel like I keep giving little snippets of my life and my thought process....and it's impossible for anyone reading this to get the full picture.  *sigh*  I don't know why I feel such tension over this.

I feel like I'm at a very critical point in my healing process right now.  For the last few weeks I've consistently been confronted with the idea that I need to grieve my childhood.  Grieve the fact that "incest" was a thing that existed in my family.  Feel the pain that I've spent years ignoring, lying about, or numbing.  I don't think I'm going to be able to move forward until I do this.  It isn't something I can just DO though....nor is it something I can do alone or in my own power.  I think it's going to be something that God walks me through. I have no idea what this will look like or how to even get started....other than to look at God and wait to see where He goes with it.  Sounds cheesy and christian-eezy....but right now that's what feels right.  I'm not sure I even know what true emotion feels like, or looks like.  I'm not sure I even have real emotion.

I've been warring with my physical body lately too.  Seems that every time I get close to the wounds beneath the surface, I run back to my eating disorder and to cutting.  Is that any surprise though?  These things give me a momentary reprieve from reality.  I'm okay though!  Honestly, I think this is what needs to happen for me right now.  Obviously it's not a good idea to harm myself in any way, but these things aren't my concern right now.  I want to keep pulling my mind and my heart back toward the deeper wounds.

Lately I've felt like there is a darkness inside me.  I'm starting to wonder if this darkness is actually pain.  It isn't evil or bad...it's the wounded little girl locked inside my head.  I've spent so many years confused by this darkness...trying to figure out why it exists, trying to hide it, clean it up, save it, perfect it.  What I actually need to do, is learn to love it.  Love her.  Accepting her exactly as she is will bring freedom....and pave the road for lasting change.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Today, so far...is better.  :)  I feel like I came to a bit of a crossroads yesterday with some heavy realizations.  I have no idea what direction to take, if any.

Yesterday morning at work, I had to have my husband (he's the IT guy, we work for the same company) revert back to a back up of the accounting report I do every day.  If I make a mistake I can always have him revert back and I just enter everything in again.  Normally I catch my mistake the second time around. Well, this time I made the same flippin' mistake a THIRD time.  I called him again and...well...I forgot that I needed to create a back up again before starting.  OOPS!  He told me this months ago, and I forgot.  It's never been an issue because I always catch my mistake!  He was really pissed at me, yelling at me over the phone and asking me why I wouldn't do a back up again.  I kept saying that I was sorry, and told him I didn't know what to do to fix this.  He said he could revert back to last night's database....so I said okay, we'll do that.  I didn't know if that would change anything about how I did my report, so I asked him if there was anything I needed to do differently.  *more shaming*  He just kept asking me why would you not make a back up?!  I finally butted in and told him "look, I'm sorry!!  I'll figure it out on my own."  And I hung up.  *sigh*

I felt really dumb, and about two inches tall.

Later that afternoon a coworker copped an attitude and was rude with me.  My boss witnessed it and immediately intervened and gave him a harassment citation.  I was pretty taken aback.  He told me I didn't have to put up with anyone treating me like that and to get with him immediately if it ever happens again.  It....made me think, I guess.

Needless to say, I left work feeling pretty low and a little confused.  I didn't even want to go home.  I sat in my car and cried for awhile.  I camped in my shower for an hour and a half, so I could think and cry.  It occurred to me that my dad is more interested in me than my husband is.  Physically, mentally, socially...sexually.  *shudder*  Sad but true.  This really messes with my head.

Last Thanksgiving I nearly went crazy (also nearly died).  My husband agreed to go with me to my parent's house for the holiday.  This almost never happens, so I was thrilled!  My dad ignored me.  He didn't even acknowledge the fact that I was there.  No eye contact, no conversation, no hello.  He followed Kyle around like a lost puppy.  I was crushed!  WHY??!!  I don't actually want my dad's attention, so why the hell was I so upset that he wasn't paying any attention to me?  There are times that I'm so starved for attention/affection....that I would settle for my dad's creepiness.  I hate to admit that, but it was my normal for so long...and it's not like I don't know how to protect myself from anything too inappropriate with him.

*sigh*  So yeah, apparently incest (hate that word) really does cause a lot of mental destruction. My head is a wasteland.