trauma

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.

I was always told that I have no idea what real hunger means.

As a kid ,I was often forced to eat things, and I was surrounded with so much guilt because of it.

“You should be glad that you have food on your table “

“There are so many hungry kids in Africa and you are going to complain to me , that you don’t like the food or what is even worst, you ain’t going to empty the plate ??!?!?!?!?”

Followed with :

“You are ungrateful “

” You don’t love me “

“You are spoiled “

“You are horrible “

“It’s an insult for me, that you didn’t make your plate empty “

Most of the people who cooked when I was young were convinced that they are the best cooks ever. They were not bothered by cooking, and in their mind , I should be grateful that we have food at all ,since not everybody is so fortunate. This was their mantra.

My mom didn’t cook well at all. It was always the same food. She was never bothered. There was no real order in the kitchen. For example ,breakfast was only there on Sundays ,since my dad was not working on that day . The rest of the days were without breakfast. We did have sandwiches made for school, but it was more so others will not think , that my mother doesn’t take a good care for us.

My dad was into everything meat . Not the best example either ,but I must say It did change after he suffered from heart attack.

I often ate at my grandma’s. Mother of my mother. She was absolutely the worst.

She was making food that I didn’t always like. One time ,she made a soup ,that was simply horrible ,and I ended up vomiting it back on the plate. She forced me then to eat what I had vomited. I will never forget this and how it made me feel. She was so offended. I was staying at her house for about a week at that time, and she didn’t speak to me for several days. I was 5. In the end I was forced to apologize to her ,so she would speak to me again.

After all ,how did I dare not like her cooking???!!!

Since then I strongly believed that if it will ever happen next time, also with others – I can expect the same treatment .

Then came body shaming , food shaming ,bullying & even more confusion.

“Do you realized how many calories this has ??! ”

“Are you sure you are going to eat this ? “

“Why aren’t you as skinny as your cousin ?”

“Nobody will ever love you if you going to be fat “

The point was at that time -I was not fat. I was a not super skinny , but I was not as fat as I was made to believe. I was constantly compared with my cousin . Her body was nothing like mine . But this didn’t matter .The numbers matter . We were the same age ,so it was easy to say what our perfect weight should be . I always had kilo or two more than her ,and therefore -I was fat. Period.

I was about 5/6 years old then .That is also when my binge eating started.

The title of this post is “Hungry” Why ?

Because I’m very uncomfortable with this word. I’m hungry now , and just about to get some lunch. I decided to write something here to not feel so guilty about feeling this way.

My mind keeps on telling me stuff like -they will see you eating again ,they will judge you etc etc . So actually this post should help me to just pull myself together and eat my lunch like a normal human being without feeling bad about it. If I skip this meal ,I will binge later and I really don’t want that.

Tag: trauma

Hungry