Month: February 2021

Trauma

~ heavysideoflife ~ Leave a comment

My dad called me two times yesterday, not in the best of times, to be very honest. I didn’t pick up ,and also didn’t call back. If it’s something urgent-especially for him ,he would try to text me too, or send something via messenger . Anyway. I went to bed, and had one nightmare after another, first about how bad of a person I am in his mind ,,and then the second one, which happened to be the worst. I dreamed that my dad was hitting me again. I was telling him not to do that anymore, as I’m a grown up now. I beg him to stop, and after some time he did stop. Then I told him that, If he ever hit me again, it would be the last time we see each other(I know it was just a dream ,but I also know how it would devastate him ,if I will cut all my contacts with him) .I was so proud of myself in that dream, because I stood up for myself. Not for long ,as he ended up hitting me again just to prove that he have power over me.

Dream was so intense, that I woke up and got a panic attack .Not as bad as they used to be. I knew it was just a dream and that  it was all not real . I have used some tricks that I have learned during my treatment for PTSD  to make myself calm, to ground myself, as I call it, and it worked. This took me a while though. Didn’t have a panic attack for quite a while now, but I guess with all the stress nowadays, it’s easier to find yourself in that horrible state again.

I’m not a role model daughter, but I try my best. My dad is pretending to be “good” now and seems to forget about the pain that he caused me and my brothers. He doesn’t want to admit that it was not only my mom , who beat the crap out of us. I’m already ok with the idea that he will never openly admit to it, or even apologies. I even caught him lying in front of my friends, saying that he never hit any of us, just made us exercise. Well just my brother. We don’t speak about what happened to me . Last time I tried to have a talk about the abuse, he said to me ,to not say anything since we might both hear the things that we don’t like, suggesting a bit ,that maybe he was not always a perfect dad indeed, but I wasn’t the best daughter either. 

So you see, there is no point starting the conversation. It’s not like things will get better after I will hear him admitting to anything. Nothing can change what happened, the damage has been done. I’m moving on, but it’s painful to see that he isn’t. With time ,I got to understand that he was a product of an abnormal family structure and toxic environment. I know his life was not easy, but since I could choose differently, why couldn’t he  ? 

Yes ,I know that I will never get an answer to this question. I’m fine with that. 

I just wish to not feel so guilty ,that I didn’t pick up the phone, or didn’t contact him often enough. I was raised to believe that parents do not make mistakes, that it is a sin, to not cherish your mom and dad above everything ,because they give me life (with the help of “God”, since we were Catholics )

But you know what,they were not only mom & dad.

They were also my abusers. 

So dear guilty feeling – I say to you bye bye.

Scale

~ heavysideoflife ~ Leave a comment

I went on the scale today.It was less than last time ,but not life changing less.

There was no binge eating happening recently. I’ve made a lot of changes in my daily food related routine, and still ,the scale didn’t show it. 

I should probably move more…I wish I could go swimming for example. I really miss doing that.

Today I’m busy overthinking ,and being mad at myself. Maybe I could have done more. Maybe I’m overreacting,and my back and knee don’t hurt me hard enough .After all, people possibly deal with pain much worse than mine on a daily basis .Maybe I should push myself more. Maybe it’s not as easy as I think. Maybe I should stop being so scared of making the small steps. Maybe I should keep on repeating to myself ,that I’m doing this to get better, and not to impress anybody.

Frustration has really set in.

I hate the scale. I hate the numbers that it shows. I’m not those numbers.

War

~ heavysideoflife ~ Leave a comment

Writing this is not easy. I’m a mom myself,and just thought that there will come a day when my child will blame me for all her issues or unhappiness scares the shit out of me. I’m sure that at some point she will realize how fucked up her mom actually can be.I hope that she will still like to have me around and tell me stuff.That she will not be cringing every mothers day ,like I do ,because I can stand people bragging how great they moms are/or were.

The same thing applies to dads. Equaly. 

I have no clue how to be  a good mom. I don’t even know how to be an “ok” mom. 

The only thing I do know for sure,that I will do my best to give my daughter  all that I didn’t have when I was young. Especially now,when I know for the fact that when I was her age my issue with food was already a long time out there. And nope,we don’t talk about material stuff. 

I want her to feel that she is loved ,just the way she is. That she is enough & worthy all the good stuff.

I keep on noticing more and more, how much my issues with food are connected with the way I was raised and it really breaks my heart. Yesterday was one of those days when I was thinking about not disappointing my dad,because he wanted me to do something for him.

I didn’t do what he asked.It was not a big deal but he could easily do it himself and he most definitely didn’t need my help.He lied to someone and I was supposed to get an info for him,since he was “not in the country at the moment” .

He keeps complaining that my siblings never call him anymore,but at the same time every time he is calling them,he wants something,or he keeps on complaining how messy his life is and how he hopes that everything will fall in the right place eventually . Calls with me are no different. When I’m about to hang up,I usually get to hear what was the real purpose of the call. He keeps on calling me now ,as I am writing this ,because he probably wants to know how the things went yesterday. Since I didn’t pick up ,he would try facetime ,or maybe email me, or use  social media to contact me and check if I did what he had asked. 

He will spend all that time trying to contact me,while he could easily make a call himself to and find out everything.

This situation makes my whole body so uncomfortable. Stress levels are very high. The need to eat something is very present ,and it’s damn strong. I want it to stop.I hate to feel this way. I hate how small I feel when he does that, even though he is thousands kilometers away .

If I call him back,he will win. So I’m not going to do it,at least not now. Maybe later,because the guilt I feel inside will not let me get on with my life.

This is ridiculous. 

It’s a war between me and me to not binge right  now and I deserve to win .

Hear me out.

~ heavysideoflife ~ 2 Comments

” I’m smarter than you.

I look better in this sweater .

You have a big mouth.

Are you sure you are going to eat that?

You are not pretty.

Nobody will want someone as fat as you are.

Your belly is not as flat as mine.

Your boobs are way too big.

You are such a brad.

You are stupid.

Is there really nothing that you can do right?

Do you even have a brain ?

You are too dumb to study (….)

I don’t know from whom you inherit this kind of behaviour,for sure not from me.

You are a loser.

Why can’t you be as smart as your cousin? 

Look how thin she is,you can never be like her.

I have never been abroad so it’s ridiculous that you are going to Paris .

Why the hell can’t you play keyboards as well as your cousin ?

You need to do this (….) because your cousin is already busy with it.

It is not fair that you have better chances in life than me.

I wish I’ve never had you.

I could have left before you were born,but I stayed for you.

I could have just twisted your neck when you were tiny, since you stood on the way to my career. “

These should be in the book about  “How to not talk to your kids or/and your loved ones”. What do you do when you hear things like every day for  for years, decades ? You believe in them. I know I did.

It all makes sense now.

When the phone rings, and it’s one of the people who you would call “parents” (well actually my dad only at this point, my mom doesn’t give a shit about me),I immediately search for food. First I check around the table, then I scan the room, then I think about what I have in the fridge that I could possibly eat (or nub) while I talk to  them( I also  think about the food that I can eat after the conversation). That explains a lot.

There. It’s out. I had to write it down. It gives me some kind of satisfaction ,strength. Why?

Because first of all , I don’t believe in it anymore. I call it bullshit. If you say or think about me this way, it means you have absolutely no idea who I am. I’m not stupid. I’m not too dumb to do stuff. I can actually  do a lot of things -from very useless to very useful, so never underestimate me .I’m not model type skinny. I never was ,nor ever will be. 

I don’t have a flat belly, and it might be that even if I lose enough weight it will never be completely flat.

I’m not my mom, or my dad. I’m not my cousin. I’m not anybody else. I’m not my weight. I’m not my depression. I’m not my PTSD .I’m not my eating disorder. 

I’m me & that is good enough.

Misery

~ heavysideoflife ~ Leave a comment

I feel like I’m in some kind of limbo of misery.  This whole pandemic is starting to really get on my nerves .

Maybe it was bothering me before,but I pretend that it didn’t ? That sounds like something I would do.

Before my break down nearly 2  years ago, I would push myself to the limits and act like I can handle it all. I was avoiding people who were trying to address the possible issue that I’m having.  I thought that, as long as I can stand on two legs, I’m good to go. I did some weird things . Eating at work in the toilet ,because I was afraid what others would say if they sow me eating all this stuff. Buying an extra big bag so I can fit all my snacks in the morning and after I am done with work, because I would also eat on the way home. I would put some music on, and I would feel like all these people in the train are not really there, so I can just sit in my safe bubble . At that time I really didn’t consider this as something weird. I do now.

I guess the good thing is that I really didn’t binge in the last week. I was able to stop myself before I was too far gone. 

That sounds like a little win, but doesn’t feel like one though. I wish I could move more . This part is getting harder and harder ,since my knee is hurting like a bitch. I feel angry at myself and my knee .I’m quite miserable at this point .I don’t think anybody really  knows how miserable ,but It’s ok. I’m not looking for pity, It’s just something I need to go through. I’ve been running away from feelings way too long. I need to believe that set back is not the end of the world, and that it doesn’t define who I am .

Maybe If I can just get through this, things will get better.