As a child I was always eager to jump into life and get wet and messy. I loved making mud pies and dancing in the rain. Thunderstorms were my favorite. I loved to feel the rain drops coming down and soaking my shirt. Life was full and satisfying. I was an innocent child, as most are, and I knew little of cruelty and pain but as I grew I saw more of the world and a darker side of life. Looking back I could not understand that it was abuse at the time but the times when my mother would spank me using "The Stick" was not normal. The time she slapped me across the face for "being sassy" was not right. I know that I blamed myself for these reactions of hers but they were not my fault. When my therapist first started talking about abuse I brushed it off as irrelevant and inaccurate but the more I look back the clearer the pattern emerges. Now this pattern was in part due to the generation gaps between my mother and my generation because she came from the "spare the rod spoil the child" time and to her I was indeed a spoiled child. My mother was always the one to get angry and yell or hit or punish in some way and so my relationship with my parents became dichotomous so that my mother was the "bad" parent and my dad the "good" one. Being at home for break has given me time to think about this and really look at the way my parents react to things. Christmas was a total disaster as I have mentioned already and it was interesting to see how it was my mother who did the slamming of the doors and walking out while my dad sat calmly by and watched. I feel like my dad has always been a watcher. He never really got involved in the dirty side of parenting when misbehavior or punishment was concerned. I know that my parents love me and want what is best for me they just cannot show it. My mother is very dramatic and I get a lot of my personality from her but my practice of internalization comes from my father. Seeing the two play their parts and interact can tell me a lot about myself, yet it is often difficult to sit back and watch the fights because like my father the watcher, I am also the mediator.
My dad does watch but at some point he will jump in and try to resolve the issue even if it only ends up in more yelling and unpleasantness. I am the same way. I hate fights. They make me anxious and scared and I just want them to stop. Yet the mediator never really ends up satisfied or happy in our family, partly because of the two main arguers, my mother and my brother. The two of them could fight or argue or debate until the end of time and neither would budge from his or her point of view. When the two of them are home the tension in the house is so palpable it permeates the atmosphere, making everyone on edge. I feel like whenever I am home I have to walk on eggshells and watch what I say as if there is a bomb ready to be set off by the wrong movement or word. In this setting it is no wonder that I am struggling. Yet the struggle started before I came home.
Even though the struggling did start before I came home for the holidays I was struggling this summer and perhaps that laid the foundation for the path I am on now. With my brother living at home and farming on my parents land a fight was sure to break out daily. The animosity left over from the summer lingers and taints any interaction between my brother and my parents. All I know is that the atmosphere in this house is toxic and has been for a long time. I wish that there was some way to change it but my mother and I, despite our similarities, cannot get alone for extended periods of time. My dad and I are okay because neither of us like fighting. My brother and I did not get along for most of my childhood. In fact he was somewhat of a bully to me when I was younger but we have grown closer over the years, however there are things that will always divide us and keep us from becoming really close. It's sad when I think about my family and how I cannot really get close or talk to any of them about the deeper things. Religion is nixed because I am pagan and they are Catholic and my general interests provide enough of a chasm to prevent and real connection from being formed. ED did not help. My eating disorder took advantage of an already broken system and severed all ties that I could have with my family members. Lies came between us, just as the lies that I told as a child to protect my developing identity left my parents stunned when I finally stopped acting like the child they wanted. I would like to try to get closer to my family but the years of pain and hurt I have suffered at their hands makes me very hesitant to crack that door open and let them in.
I never felt able to rely on my family for support so I built another family of friends instead. But now that I am in college and my friends from my childhood have gone in different directions and so I feel like my family has fallen apart and THAT may be why ED is stepping up his game and able to have such power over me and that is what I need to work on this semester, building my family at school, a safe and stable family from whom I can seek support and love and support and love in turn. Without this I will fail to get better and just keep getting worse. Now that I know one important key step towards recovery I have to have the strength and courage to put myself out there and maybe fall a few times and get hurt but pick myself back up and try again. I have already had multiple bad experiences with friends in college so I need to find a new strategy. I don't know how I will do it right now but I have to think of a way of connecting with people or I won't make it. I can do this and I will do this. I just have to keep reminding myself of those two facts.
My dad does watch but at some point he will jump in and try to resolve the issue even if it only ends up in more yelling and unpleasantness. I am the same way. I hate fights. They make me anxious and scared and I just want them to stop. Yet the mediator never really ends up satisfied or happy in our family, partly because of the two main arguers, my mother and my brother. The two of them could fight or argue or debate until the end of time and neither would budge from his or her point of view. When the two of them are home the tension in the house is so palpable it permeates the atmosphere, making everyone on edge. I feel like whenever I am home I have to walk on eggshells and watch what I say as if there is a bomb ready to be set off by the wrong movement or word. In this setting it is no wonder that I am struggling. Yet the struggle started before I came home.
Even though the struggling did start before I came home for the holidays I was struggling this summer and perhaps that laid the foundation for the path I am on now. With my brother living at home and farming on my parents land a fight was sure to break out daily. The animosity left over from the summer lingers and taints any interaction between my brother and my parents. All I know is that the atmosphere in this house is toxic and has been for a long time. I wish that there was some way to change it but my mother and I, despite our similarities, cannot get alone for extended periods of time. My dad and I are okay because neither of us like fighting. My brother and I did not get along for most of my childhood. In fact he was somewhat of a bully to me when I was younger but we have grown closer over the years, however there are things that will always divide us and keep us from becoming really close. It's sad when I think about my family and how I cannot really get close or talk to any of them about the deeper things. Religion is nixed because I am pagan and they are Catholic and my general interests provide enough of a chasm to prevent and real connection from being formed. ED did not help. My eating disorder took advantage of an already broken system and severed all ties that I could have with my family members. Lies came between us, just as the lies that I told as a child to protect my developing identity left my parents stunned when I finally stopped acting like the child they wanted. I would like to try to get closer to my family but the years of pain and hurt I have suffered at their hands makes me very hesitant to crack that door open and let them in.
I never felt able to rely on my family for support so I built another family of friends instead. But now that I am in college and my friends from my childhood have gone in different directions and so I feel like my family has fallen apart and THAT may be why ED is stepping up his game and able to have such power over me and that is what I need to work on this semester, building my family at school, a safe and stable family from whom I can seek support and love and support and love in turn. Without this I will fail to get better and just keep getting worse. Now that I know one important key step towards recovery I have to have the strength and courage to put myself out there and maybe fall a few times and get hurt but pick myself back up and try again. I have already had multiple bad experiences with friends in college so I need to find a new strategy. I don't know how I will do it right now but I have to think of a way of connecting with people or I won't make it. I can do this and I will do this. I just have to keep reminding myself of those two facts.
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