Things You Neve…

Things You Never Tell Anyone You Know How to Do

Spend hours researching everything down to the best sticker chart to use for potty training.

You knew to save the boxes from the grocery store for art projects even though they clutter up the kitchen.

You know her favorite books to read to go to sleep, and which ones to read when you need her to go to sleep faster or the longer ones you have to make sounds with when you want to snuggle for a long time.

You know how her little fingers flitted around as an infant.

You watch her sleep and pause at how gorgeous she is and always will be, even when she won’t agree.

You pick her up in the middle of the night, though she’s dead asleep, to rock her against you to settle your soul as much as hers.

Inspired by this poem, inspired by this lady’s post about it.




Me: “So my ex is getting married this Saturday.  I don’t feel anything and I don’t know if I should.”

T: “Well, what is going on inside you when you think about it?”

Me: “I just don’t care.  At least I don’t think so.  I mean, I feel like I should but I don’t.  Sure, I’m jealous they are having a wedding and I’m not on that path, but I feel nothing for him or that I’m losing him, etc.  My daughter is sad though.  I guess I just don’t trust that I’m not just numb.”

Seeing how I’m sitting here eating my weight in rice crispy treats as I put off writing about this.  That I’ve woken up around 2:00 a.m. and been unable to go back to sleep every night this week.  That I have had vivid dreams every night when I do sleep.  I think I’m becoming less numb or something is breaking through.

Here’s the thing I know to be true:  I’m not in love with my ex-husband.  I’m not grieving our relationship any longer.  I’m not grieving what we could have had, I’ve actually moved through that process in the last few years thoroughly and my therapist agrees.  She said I seem to have issues from the actual marriage I need to resolve, but not feelings for him.  So that I take comfort in.

I don’t have any real issues with his new wife.  She loves my kid and quite honestly, takes better care of her than he does.  I’m not jealous of her in any way shape or form, mostly I pity her.  I did have a chat with my therapist about her, because she seems so different than me.  She’s a bit abusive with him emotionally and controlling, but she thinks it’s textbook narcissism.  They leave the doormat Empath for someone to control them.  Makes sense.  I have my boundaries in place for her pretty set, so that’s fine too.

So what’s my freaking deal?  Well, my kid is not happy about it at all. She was in tears this week because she said it means we won’t be getting married.  So I know some of my anxiety is for her.

Thinking about her in her light blue dress and flower crown that she will be wearing makes me tear up.  Is it because I wanted it to be my wedding she was in first?  Perhaps.  Is it because I can’t give her what she wants nor do I even want to?  Perhaps.

All I do know is I’ve set aside the entire day on Saturday for self care and let my boyfriend know of my plan, of which he supports.  I’ve turned down my sister and I’m not watching her kids (another story for another day) and taken the abuse for that decision.  I’ve turned down my mother’s offer of a visit, though neither of them are aware that the wedding is Saturday (or at least they don’t care about the impact on me).  I have a hair cut scheduled and drinks with friends on the plate.  I’m not doing a thing except what I feel like all day.  It feels safe to have that freedom ahead of me.

You know, I’m still having troubles with memories, but my wedding day I can remember quite well, however it occurs to me it’s all negative for the most part.  I remember planning the event almost completely by myself, thinking he’d decide at the last minute he didn’t want to go through with it.  I remember our proposal a month before our wedding date, in the factory parking lot where I basically convinced him to marry me because Halloween was on a Saturday that year.  I remember picking out a plain black dress one afternoon hastily by myself at JC Penney, though I don’t know why I was alone.  I remember a planning meeting we had with our mothers and mine was being a psychopath so I stepped outside with his and she told me, “They are all crazy.  You can elope if you want too.” I remember loving her for that so much.

I remember my mother changing my flower order to white roses from Calla lillies because that’s what she liked and me being surprised the day of when they were delivered.  I remember the night before we had a sleep over at our apartment.  I think he went out to eat with a buddy and I stayed home.  I remember having a meltdown because my dad’s barn looked trashy and maybe we should just use a church, so he stayed up and cleaned it all for me and surprised me the next day.  I remember when we went to the mall to get rings and bought the cheapest things we could find.  Then our family surprised us with nicer rings at the altar, though I secretly always hated them because they weren’t our style at all.  The cheap ones were lost when we cleaned up the ceremony, however, because I looked many times to try to recover them.  When he lost his and I lost mine years later, I wasn’t really sad about it.

The day of I remember being so nervous, and the day dragged before the ceremony.  I remember my sister doing my hair and make-up.  Where was my mother?  I don’t have a lot of memories of her. I remember rolling up turkey and lunch meats with my mother-in-law and grandparents.

I remember our grandparents got us a hotel room but we cancelled the night of because he didn’t want to go.  He wanted to stay home.  I felt bad because they had to pay for the room anyways.

I remember seeing my biological dad walk up the driveway and being shocked.  I remember the man I call father surprising me by dressing as Elwood Blues and giving me away as such.  I remember telling my mother to “shut the fuck up” right before I walked down the aisle because she was rushing me as I hugged my sister and best friend, Jordan.

I remember my great-grandmother bawling in the receiving line when she came up to me, but I’m not sure why.  I remember the local newspaper took photos of us because we were having a Halloween wedding and those were the only real photos we ended up having.  I remember not wanting to open our gifts in front of everyone but my mother made us.

I remember going through the drive-thru at Arby’s on the way home, then having sex with him for the first time that night and then the next day and how it was just okay.  Mostly relieved it was over.  I remember thinking waiting for my wedding night was idiotic, yet strangely something to be smug about.

I remember that we planned the ceremony for 5:30 and I spent the weeks before checking the sun location to make sure it wasn’t going to be too dark, since we didn’t plan for lights.

Mostly I remember it being rushed and not mine or ours, but he had little input anyways.  I remember wanting to have an anniversary party one day to make up for the whole thing.

I don’t know how to end this post, but I need to go.  These memories are mine and they are the truth and reflect how i feel about the day.  I wonder if I would have described our wedding the same way a year after it vs. now.



Memories of Made of These

“There is a good chance that somewhere in your life, there is a champion. She will be an older student. A teacher you have never had. The secretary. Someone else’s mother. But that person will have a car, and she will make time for you, and she won’t judge or ask questions. Finding her might be hard; you might never have spoken to her before. If you’re lucky, she’ll find you. Trust her when she does, even if no one else has ever stood up for you.”

I knew it.  I went into therapy last night thinking I had no idea what I was going to talk about, and no idea how it would end other than maybe some light conversation.  I drug my feet, though I’m now to the point where no amount of feet dragging will get me to miss it.  I knew I was going to admit I’ve been lying to myself about how numb I am and how I don’t feel anything, or that I live in my body as me vs. an observer.  That was all I had.

Then I went in and boom.  One of the most shocking and revealing sessions I’ve ever had.

I did reveal that truth, that was I have been prideful and not willing to go deep.  I say I will and I think on things and write, but I didn’t admit to myself how numb I really live until recently.  My homework last week was to go through childhood pictures and look in the mirror, in my own eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I had a medical scare this week where I was sent to the ER for a massively heavy period.  We talked on that a bit, how my body is overall very healthy but it likes to grow weird shit in weird places.  She thought that sounded like my immune system was not keeping up and being depressed weakens your immune system overall.  Interesting.

Then we got a little deeper and now I am blown away.  I asked her how to feel things from my childhood or my past, really feel them and sort it out, because I admit I’m numb and I thought I was doing so well but I don’t actually feel things. When I think about the past I think things happened and I watched but it wasn’t happening TO ME.

She said, “Tell me what your favorite outfit was or your favorite pair of shoes when you were little?”  I couldn’t answer. I have absolutely no memory of any of that. Everything I did remember, like my favorite stuffed animal, was all stuff I had at my grandparent’s house.  I admitted I wouldn’t take my yellow bear stuffed animal home to my mother’s, I left it at my grandparents.  She asked me why and I told her I guess I didn’t feel safe with things I loved at home.

I ask her if people were supposed to remember details like that, favorite dresses and clothes.  Who bought them for me, etc.  She responded, “Absolutely. You were a girl, those things were part of making you, you.  How did you figure out your style or what what you prefer and what color was your favorite?  Who bought you things you love?” I couldn’t answer.

Legitimately have no memories like that at all.  I can remember going into Payless Shoestore with my mom, at some young age, because I needed new tennis shoes for school and I had to buy “Pony” brand and I hated them, but I knew it was all we could afford so I said nothing. I can see the white shoes and remember thinking “they sorta look like the name brands…” That is my only real memory of anything like that.  I have no idea how I got my clothes or toys or anything, especially anything that I loved.

I laughed nervously because I was just shocked.  I told her as such.  She told me that she was so sad for me right now, more than I was for myself.  She said, “I bet it wouldn’t have occurred to you to even know you should have a favorite dress, would it?” I said “No!!!!”

She asked me how do you think you got your clothes, or your shoes, or your toys?  How did they come into your life?  What did you feel when you woke up in the morning?  In your bedroom?  When you went to sleep at night?  I couldn’t tell her. I have no idea.

Then when I told her my main fear is raising my daughter to have the same life and she asked, what is your experience like for your daughter?  I smiled.  Now I know I’m not 100%, raising her like I was raised!  I don’t buy a thing for her unless she is there and approves.  My kid likes foxes, so she wears her costume everywhere.  She is fine.

She said if you can’t remember your favorite pair of shoes or where you got your favorite dress, what else do you think you have suppressed?  Then it hit me. It could be a whole shit storm and I have no idea. No wonder I feel like a woman inside of a suit of armor or cloaked and weighed down.

She said you weren’t allowed to feel and you were clearly protecting yourself, and probably depressed from a long time ago.  I basically only remember my grandparent’s houses because I was allowed to exist as me then I shut it off when I had to go back to wherever my mother lived at the time.

You Own Everything

I’m supposed to write out memories and really dig into remembering details.  She wanted me to start by thinking about my ex-husband and how much control I had over my life or what I didn’t have control of, and really get into the details of things and how I felt.  That’s my homework.

To let the sadness come and the fear, because though it will feel like never-ending waves and that it will never end, it will.  Emotions won’t kill me.  The other side of processing them will be beautiful.  I can believe that.

I told her quite clearly that I don’t care what the scale says one day or today.  I am just tired of carrying this weight because it is a visual representation of emotions I do not deal with properly.  I’m carrying this and lumbering along and I feel like I’m stuck in a fat suit.  I’m not talking about cellulite or what size my clothes are, I just feel weighed down and slow and I know it’s emotional vs. physical.  She had no doubt that when I start dealing with emotions and really living, I won’t have any issues with my weight.

I’m terrified and yet, I can’t wait to get started.


Breaking Free

I have just finished “When Love is Food” by Geneen Roth and again, blown away.  I wanted to make a few notes about the parts that really hit me.

She writes :”For 17 years I ate compulsively.  For 22 years I involved myself in relationships that left me feeling the same as eating compulsively: always sick and always empty.  I had no idea how to take care of myself with food or with people.  I didn’t know eating a meal was an act of kindness and would give my body the fuel it needed to think clearly, and move fluidly.  I didn’t know that choosing a kind, available partner was an act of kindness.  I thought it was naughty and exciting to eat donuts until I was sick and to be with men that made me live on the edge of myself, balancing disaster.  Lovers with whom I could not rest.”

For 20+ years I have also lived this life.  I’ve been with much older men who treated my early developed young body like a thing instead of a person.  I married an emotionally unavailable and emotionally abusive, selfish man child.  I had an affair with another boy who was icing on a cake I couldn’t ever eat, nor really wanted to.  I dated two emotionally unavailable men who used me for sex and loved to confuse me into thinking I was only theirs.  I had an affair with a married man who professed love but instead gave me only selfish confusion.  My entire love life has been for the benefit of the other person and completely confusing to me.  Sickly, sweet donuts.  Basically a mirror to my relationship with my parents, namely my biological father.

Lovers with whom I could not rest, indeed.  She writes, “Women get a crumb from their fathers, so when they get two crumbs from a man, they accept it.”  I’ve been living on crumbs and donuts for all these years.  No wonder I feel like a lost woman in a fat suit.

She goes on to say: “Many of the women said they associated eating sweets with being with their fathers, with the way they were treated by their fathers. Underneath the liquid cherry-filled nights were mad cravings for mashed potatoes, rice and vegetables, whole-grain muffins.  The sweets didn’t satisfy them; they needed something more substantial.”

So where do I go here?  I’m very delicately trying to live the Eating Guidelines she proposes in her books.

  1. Eat when you are hungry.
  2. Eat sitting down in a calm environment. This does not include the car.
  3. Eat without distractions. Distractions include radio, television, newspapers, books, intense or anxiety-producing conversations or music.
  4. Eat what your body wants.
  5. Eat until you are satisfied.
  6. Eat (with the intention of being) in full view of others.
  7. Eat with enjoyment, gusto and pleasure.

I have been doing this for the past week, including two weekends and I must say it feels weird, but good.  Mostly it feels right.  I overate a few times where my body was clearly done and I didn’t stop and as soon as I started to feel shame, I stopped and talked to myself about what was really going on.  It was the first Monday I didn’t feel shame that I wasn’t starting a new diet or exercise program.  I saw someone bring in the Tuesday donuts and I started to go follow them and thought “wait, I just ate breakfast.  What is going on?”  Turns out I was procrastinating about working so I turned around and went to my desk.  I didn’t have breakfast at home one morning and had a few extra minutes so instead of eating in the car from a drive-through, I went into a cafe and ate.

The one problem I am having is eating without being distracted.  I like to read and it’s about my only time to read, when I’m eating breakfast.  I’ll work on that.

The other area the book(s) go into is intimacy.  Along with the Eating Guidelines she talks about these rules for intimacy, as well:

  1. Commit yourself
  2. Tell the truth
  3. Trust yourself
  4. Pain ends, so does everything else.
  5. Laugh and cry easily
  6. Have patience
  7. Be willing to be vulnerable
  8. When you notice you are clinging to anything and it’s causing trouble, drop it
  9. Be willing to fail
  10. Don’t let fear stop you from leaping into the unknown or from sitting in dark silence
  11. Remember that everything gets lost, stolen, ruined, worn out or broken; bodies sag and wrinkle; everyone suffers; and everyone dies
  12. No act of love is ever wasted.

She writes, “A relationship is not about finding peace by being with another human being.  It is about making a commitment to maintain contact and not run away when your partner is a mirror for the hardness in your heart.”

“The hard part wasn’t meeting the love of my life.  The hard part is staying with him.  The hard part is staying anywhere.  If I’m always leaving, I can’t be left.  When I’m still and quiet I’m a target.  When I’m moving no one can catch me, hit me or hurt me.”

I spend a lot of time in therapy talking to her about my yearning to pack up and leave, take my kid and move and just live alone so I don’t have to deal with men or relationships or anyone else.  I look at it as focusing on me, but that’s not all it is.  It’s also running.  I want to change jobs all the time, I get bored easily and want to move.  ALL of this hit me as my truth when I read it.

I can’t wait to start the next book, and ultimately, my life.



Mirror Work

My assignment for the week was to do some mirror work.  I was to look in the mirror and really look in my own eyes, as well as look at old photos of myself as a child and try to connect with them.  I mentioned I haven’t been feeling like myself for so long.  That I will see a picture now or catch my eye in the mirror and I’m shocked at the girl looking back.  I either think she’s really pretty or hideous.

I admit, I didn’t do that work so I’m going to focus on that in the coming weeks.  I’ll let you know how it goes!

Bouncing & Bleeding

After a few weeks of thinking on my session regarding my biological father, I just kinda broke down.  Completely shut it down.  I overate, I over drank, I didn’t want to feel.  And what I did allow myself to feel was the old familiar go-to, my shame for this larger body I have acquired over the past year.  So I started looking into more extreme weight loss: surgery, gastric sleeve, then injections for this new weight loss drug that came out to help with feeling full.  I even emailed my doctor to see if she agreed with putting me on it.  Then, as the Universe so eloquently does if you are open enough to see it, She dropped this author in my lap on the very FB post that I was talking to someone about the injections:

I poured over Women, Food & God and now I’m reading When Food Is Love and when I stop reading for a few days I get really really down so I keep at it and I can’t believe it.  Every word is me.  This makes SO MUCH sense.  Intuitive eating where you aren’t distracted and allowing myself to feel things is perfect.  The first Monday in a long time I haven’t told myself “Okay, starting this week I’m doing xyz.”  No, god damn it, this week I’m going to eat what my body wants following a few rules, I’m going to move as much as I feel like and continue my path of self care.

Self care lately has looked like this: spending every minute of the weekend at the pool or napping, so much so that when I announced that my happy place is a pool my boyfriend thought seriously about installing one.  I guess he likes me to feel calm too.  My kid has been loving it and we are a nice dark shade of brown with sun-kissed freckles and mama is calmer with her too.  Wearing a bathing suit in public as self care when I’m trying to stop Googling weight loss injections feels weird, and I am DEFINITELY faking my confidence lately, but screw it.  Nothing can stand between me and that water and nothing can stop me from forward movement on this path either.

I’m really really really trying to do this right.  Not perfect, but I’m trying to listen.  When I have overate a few times my body has definitely told me a lot quicker.  I’m trying to not use this as an excuse to binge.  Mostly though I’m trying to just quiet my brain.  When i wake up at 3:00 a.m. and start the cycle of negative talk and abuse, I quiet and get to the real cause, even though I don’t always find it.

Last week my therapist said I was lighter and she was proud of the boundaries I set up.  I am too, but my goodness it’s a lot of work and even more so setting them up in my brain.

I will say, my circles are growing so small.  My friends are spacing out, I’m not sharing or letting people share as much with me, I’m not speaking to family as much.  I just feel like I want to protect my heart and energy right now.  I’m confident the right people will stick around with me, but it does feel weird to not be this social butterfly right now.

I turned down a kid’s party this weekend because I was so tired and so was my kid.  I’m hoping the mom isn’t mad, but at the same time it felt so good to nap and play with my daughter in her room instead of running.

Running and surviving only serve me well for so long and really, they didn’t serve me that well ever.


Blocked Up


As you can tell from last week’s post that I didn’t finish, and appropriately titled “Unfinished”, I had a full on meltdown after discussing my father at my last session.  It took me 2 days to recover from the binge-eating and drinking I did after that session.  I did not want to feel it.  I couldn’t even write about it.  I was so glad I came to her yesterday.

She advised me to call her if I start to spiral that bad again and we talked about the pain and abandonment that my bio dad brings up.   That I need to feel it instead of medicating it with food, etc.  She asked what I was afraid of and what I was trying to block.  I basically told her I hate feeling vulnerable to either of my parents but that’s all I feel, all the time.  I’m the 13 year old girl trying to get them to notice me.

My main problem is trying to fix other people, and feeling unimportant enough to care for myself.  She made a great point that no one is as important as myself to myself.  People in my life are there because of chance, placement or whatever, but they are separate.  My parents are my parents, everyone has parents.  But they are not me and not as important as me to me.  Found that kinda interesting.

I asked her what I was supposed to do if they die and she said “Why does that scare you?  Everyone dies.  You want to resolve everything and have them accept you before they go.  It’s not yours to fix.  It’s not going to happen and it’s okay if it doesn’t.  You have to give it back to them.”

I spend the majority of my time in therapy being reminded to NOT TAKE ON OTHER PEOPLE’S PROBLEMS.  She literally tells me this every time I start in about something I‘m struggling with.  It’s so hard to do when we are taught to survive and be quiet so we don’t cause our parents more stress our whole freaking lives.

I asked her what to do until I was good at not automatically absorbing and she said point blank ‘limit contact’.  She said they will start to act up and panic because I’m not available to suck dry but it’s okay, not for me to fix for them. She also said later when I do have contact they will surprise me by acting the same way again and I will be hurt, but I will be able to not take it on immediately as I go on.

All of this sounds so easy to type out but it’s not in my head.  It’s not second nature to me, yet.

We also spent a ton of time talking about the law of attraction and that we are capable of having everything we could ever dream of, but our mind and our past experiences stop us.

I’m feeling much better and last night I didn’t spiral or overeat or undereat or even drink.  At work I decided to set strict rules about Facebook stalking or anything like that and got at of of work done. One day at a time.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries