Suppressed Memories

I've been thinking a lot lately. Mostly trying to figure out how to accept and love myself, truly. I feel in order to do this, I need to go back to my childhood and live through some of those things I've chosen to hide from. No matter what it was, I used food to not feel it. When I was little, I was always left alone, taking care of my sister, or at my grandmothers house sitting on her couch watching jeopardy. I used food as a way to cure boredom, and my family used it as a way to say I love you. When my dad came home drunk late at night, after leaving us at my crazy grandmothers all night, he would get us a pizza. To me, food became love. It was the only thing I had to take me away from how sad and lonely my life was. I spent years sitting on my grandmothers couch for hours after school, not allowed to leave the house and because she was a hoarder, there was no space for us to play. When I was about 12 and my parents divorced, my mom felt I was old enough to watch my sister, so I now became caregiver. I had to cook the meals, and while my mom did the best she could, it was always something frozen or out of a can. I never learned about nutrition, or health and because we were alone, I wasn't allowed to leave the house, so there was little time to get exercise.

My sister and I were always alone. But instead of supporting each other, we grew to hate each other. I guess that's what happens when you're both so angry with your life, and you know there's nothing you can do about it, you start to reject the only person you have. I grew heavier and heavier, and was tormented at school. Of course I became the chubby girl, but that was only the start. We were extremely poor, and I had very few clothes to wear, almost all of them used. We didn't have a shower, and no one was ever home to encourage me to take a bath. So I also became the smelly kid. I very rarely got to play with other kids my age, so I became extremely introverted. I tried to skip school so I wouldn't be tormented and when I was there, no one even knew who I was. I can't remember the exact age that I knew I wanted to kill myself, probably because it's been something I've felt all my life. I know people say that children have a great sense of innocence, but I honestly can't remember a time I felt that. I knew we were poor, I knew I was fat, I knew that the other children didn't like me, and I knew my father was an alcoholic. I saw no way out of the pathetic life I was born into.

Eventually my mother remarried when I was 15, and we were able to afford things for the first time in my life. I had new clothes and made a friend who was different from the few friends I had before. She was extremely concerned with her appearance, and I started to be consumed with mine as well. It was at this age that I first started to restrict what I was eating. By the time I was 16, I was starving myself. I spent every day of my life obsessing about my appearance. So now, instead of eating to avoid my sadness, I was not eating. It was the only thing in my life that I had control over, and it made me feel powerful. My eating disorder gave me a purpose. I lived for becoming thinner and proving to my family and the kids at school that I existed.

When I look back on the pictures from this time, I see a beautifully thin girl who is covered in sadness. I was only living to be thin, and that was barely sustaining me. My home life continued to be full of pain and criticism. My step father was loud and did not understand me. He was constantly putting me down and arguing me right out of my confidence. And to make it worse, I was now blessed with two step brothers, both of which lived to torment me. I was made fun of, and called fat dozen of times each day. My younger step brother hated me because I was someone he wanted before our parents got married and now had to call me his sister. He tortured me both mentally and physically. He grabbed at my clothes when I passed him, gave me wedges to the point of pain, and if I stood up to him, he was known to punch the wind out of me. There were various times throughout my years living in their home, that the police were called because my step brother had tried to hurt me.

I try not to hate my mother for this, but I do. I hate her for being so weak and claiming she was strong. She will tell me she did all she could to survive. She let me live in hell, and she continues to lack ownership. I love my mother and I understand her weaknesses, but she let me die in those years I spent in that home. Coming back to that home she still shares with my step father, is a reminder of the 6 years of my life that I lived a life of daily depression.

Today, I live trying to escape the first 21 years of my life that I lived with her. Those years where I felt I had no control over my decisions. The years I spent every day of my life wishing I could die. I need to accept that pain, and believe that it occurred to allow me the understanding of human behavior and to show me that I can survive. It is so difficult for me to love myself, because everyone in my life up to this point has always left me in some way. While my mother has always been present, she has never supported me or trusted me to make the right decisions. I fear everything. I fear my failures, and have continued to live a life that I never wanted. Food has been my best friend. I am ready to be my best friend, and let food be what sustains me, in the most healthy of ways. I want to be conscious of why I choose what I eat, and why I continue to punish myself for mistakes that weren't mine. My most amazing accomplishment in life will be to love myself. To see myself the way I am, and believe, TRULY, that this is who I was meant to be. That through all the pain and rejection, there is someone worth living for.

Attention Whore

Recently I put a post on Craigslist, describing what I was looking for in the perfect guy. I guess I wasn't exactly looking for a date, I just wanted some amazing men to come my way, and restore my faith that there are incredible men who are not consumed with superficial means. And the result was overwhelming. I got probably 30 responses, and 20-25 of those were great. They were educated, sweet, handsome and interesting men. I talked to most of them, and it was such an uplifting experience. I still am emailing a bunch of them, and who knows, might meet them if I'm feeling up to it. I am just shocked to see what could come of my city. So thank you to all the guys that read my post and responded. I listed the actual post below, because I liked it, and wanted to keep it just in case :)


So here it is. I am seeking something different. I'm looking for the guy that can't seem to fit himself inside the lines. He's someone who loves art and music, and sees the world with eyes open. He has a kind heart and understands himself. He's motivated and spontaneous. He isn't consumed with material gain, but also knows the importance of financial security. He's educated, and inspired by the beauty in the world. He knows that true intimacy can exist while fully clothed. He's not the guy obsessed with his appearance or in front of the TV watching sports. He doesn't spend all his time in front of the computer, or playing video games. He is the guy who sits on his couch reading a book while listening to the rain fall outside his window and thinks about the song in his head.

I know I'm asking for something most people never find, which is why I'm asking here. If you know the reference I'm making in the posting title, you're already on your way to opening the right door. Who knows we might just become great friends. Or maybe, just maybe...something more.

Soulmates?

If I have a soulmate, this is who he'd be. It might seem silly, but I want a guy who loves cats, enjoys drinking tea, and wants nothing more than to hold my hand. It's the little things, like understanding that I hate to be the center of attention, so he doesn't put me there, or just brushing my hair from my eyes in one confident stroke of his hand. I want him to wear cardigans, with ripped sneakers and dark rimmed glasses. Someone who thinks laying in bed while we each read our favorite book is an incredible way to end a saturday night. I want someone who isn't interested in sports and who would love to have coffee and talk about his favorite musicans/bands...because they'd be mine too. When I play him my favorite song, without asking, he will hang on every word, because he knows the importance of this song in my life. He will find songs that he thinks I will love, and WILL love them. I'll hold his hand, and a sense of calmness will come over me, and it'll bring me to tears. I will lay naked with him in broad day light and watch him as he notices every curve, every wrinkle, every imperfection and tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen because he means it. He won't get angry when I get anxious, but let me have my moment, and quietly love me through it. He will know that while I am emotional, my emotions are not a weakness, and he will honor them and never take advantage of them or criticize me for them. He won't hang our relationship over my head or threaten me with his love. His love for me will be unconditional. He will teach me about art, and science, help me to see the world through new eyes. I will feel challenged and respected each and every day we are together. He will be educated, and love learning as much as he loves life. He won't be consumed by financial gain, but he will know the importance of financial security. This soulmate of mine will hold me in the most gentle and secure way I'll ever know. He'll make love to me, not because I want us to be emotionally connected, but because it's impossible for him not to be connected to me. He will also know just how much authority to show when we're having sex so that it turns me on but does not scare me. He will sing to me as he plays the guitar, and be the first guy I've ever known to teach me how to play. He'll believe in my strength, and listen to every painful childhood memory without wanting to run. I will the greatest love of his life, and he will be mine.

Healthy Changes

So much has gone on since my last blog post and I'm angry with myself for not having posted anything. I had looked at the blog several times and tried to motivate myself, but felt overwhelmed in trying to write down all the insanity that was my life. I guess I'll break it up into topics.

Shortly after my last post, a friend of mine from high school was shot and killed. I hadn't been close to this person in about ten years, but I felt overwhelmed with loss. He was part of my former life, one that I haven't really been able to look at for years. I moved away from home and I guess tried to keep the people there in a separate place, as if their lives weren't going on without me. This friend, Alan, had gotten involved in drugs and alcohol, and had made a lot of mistakes since high school, and I was angry that his life was taken from him. He never had the opportunity to change things. I guess everyone can say that addicts aren't their behaviors, but he truly was a gifted, caring person, and I feel like his life amounted to very little. With his death, I find that I want change. I'm frustrated with myself for trying to block out my past. Because of his death, I reunited with my first boyfriend, someone that changed the course of my life at one time, and who I haven't talked to in many years. I don't know how life can get so consuming, but it terrifies me. I have tried so hard to hide from my childhood and my past, and I know it's only hurt me. Those people, while some of them making bad decisions, were a large part of my young adult life, and I need to acknowledge them. I need to accept that while I may not want that life for myself, now that I can choose my path, that life existed, and it's part of who I am.

In addition to this, Andrew who I thought was gone, resurfaced. And admitted that while he had feelings for me, he couldn't see himself being with me because of my weight. He said that he was attracted to me, and thought I was beautiful, but was too insecure to be with someone that looked like me. He even mentioned not being motivated enough to lose his own weight if he was with someone like me. I think the worst comment made during this discussion was when he said, "You know how when you're with someone and they start to lose weight, and you worry that you could lose them? Yeah, I would never worry about that with you." Initially, as we're laying in my bed and he's telling me all this, I begin to cry, but I'm not angry. I even cuddled with him for awhile after, and kissed him goodbye. It was such a strange experience because he was probably the sweetest he's ever been to me that night. After I spoked with my best friend Meg, she reminded me that this is abusive, and that I did not need to have someone in my life like that. I don't think I even got angry or upset because I'm so used to be talked to like that. It's disgusting to think that I accept people like that. So I gave it a second of thought, and then texted him and told him it was unhealthy for me to have him in my life and asked that he never contact me again. Well ofcourse, two weeks later on Halloween, he calls at 1:30 in the morning. When I text back, I find out it's him, and claims he misses me, and wishes we could be friends. And again, I contemplate this. Why do I do that? WHY do I think that someone like that is deserving of my friendship? My standards are so low that I'm desperate to hold on to people. Even people like Andrew, whose company I don't really enjoy. But it's finally over, I told him to get away from me, and he even said he was hurt with how mean I was to him.

That is just like an abuser, to make it about themselves, and not about what they've done to you. His words replay in my head every day. I've become terrified of opening myself up again. I feel unattractive and unloveable. All because of words he so carelessly let fill the air. It is going to take me years to get over those words, and I need to understand what it was about myself that allowed him into my life.

I have been trying to do more work on myself. I get distracted, or unmotivated, because I feel like I'm wasting my time. I can't even remember what I wanted to learn in the first place. But all I want to do is learn. I feel like I'm losing what was so important to me. I keep striving to better understand myself, to further my place in life, and to accept things that maybe I can't change. There are so many little things in my life that I have control over. I want to exercise that control. I want to find peace in who I am, enough that I can find the confidence to do things I love. I want my mothers voice to leave my head. She's there when I'm looking in the mirror, sometimes even when I'm trying to be comfortable alone with someone else. I hear her telling me to worry, that he doesn't love me enough, that he will leave. The rage that fills me scares me. I don't want to hate her, because I don't hate her. The reality is I need her acceptance more than any mans. I want to be enough, just for one day to believe that I am everything I was meant to be.