Real Recovery from Bulimia & Binge Eating

Response from my dad

First, you need to read this post. Then come back and read this one.

I just got an email back from my father in response to the one I sent. He wrote:

Dear Michelle,

What is all this crap that you sent?

My e-mail was an offer to start ANEW. There is no going back or changing the past.

No pity parties. No garbage from the past and drinking has never brought us happiness.

We would really like to be a family again and we wish you peace and happiness but come as an adult or don’t come.

Love,

Dad

Yeah – somehow I don’t think he’s changed at all! I guess we’ll just stick with our status quo of estrangement.

I'm relieved. I had a feeling this was all a bad idea. By the way, in mentioning "drinking," he was referring to my first email I wrote him asking for a day to process his first email. I had written:

Hi Dad.

I admit that it was nice to get this email from you. But, I have a lot of thinking to do - about what I want and what could reasonably be expected from trying to work on a relationship. I'm going to need a day or two to process, and I'll get back to you.

It's funny - I was just looking at photos this weekend from our cruise - our scuba excursion in particular. Seriously! It's quite a coincidence to hear from you today. Remember how happy we all were that day on the sailboat? Remember what fun it was drinking & dancing together? I thought to myself how I don't have any other photos of you, Sandy, or Hope when you were that completely, honestly joyful.

Give me a day or two. I'll get back to you.

I truly hope you're doing well.

Michelle

I think he's gone completely looney-tunes, off the deep-end. Oh well. I'm happy with the way I handled it - and that sense of personal satisfaction is all we can ever hope or strive for in the world.

Unexpected email from my dad

It’s so weird – my father wrote me an email today asking if we couldn’t try being a family again. He disowned me 5 years ago, June 5.

We’ve spent over 12 out of my 36 years NOT talking to each other. That’s a third of my whole life. I didn’t talk to him from age 16 through age 23 or so. And, then he disowned me at age 31, and we haven’t spoken since – except for some messed up, screaming phone conversations when my sister died.

We had some really good years when I was in Boston, from age 26 to age 30 or so, and he even came to my grad school graduation, but then it all went completely to hell.

I’ve been at a good, accepting place about it all in the last couple of years. In fact, this very weekend, I spent at least an hour going through old photos of my life with my dad & step-mother and sharing stories with Todd about some of the very best, happy, and fun times we had together. So, it was quite a weird coincidence to hear from him today.

I’m really impressed that I didn’t freak out or get all weird or anything when I saw the note from him this morning. I wrote back saying I would need a day to process, and then I went about my work day as normal. I thought about it during lunch and wrote back again. Here is what I wrote:

Hi again, Dad.

I've been thinking about your email, and I would really like to know what you think about these questions:

1) What made you change your mind about a relationship with me? There may not a particular reason, but I'm curious if there is.

2) What would your expectations from me be in terms of a relationship? Are they realistic based on what you know of me?

3) Why do you think things would be any different? There was a time when you were disappointed with me as a person and a daughter. What makes you think you won't end up disappointed and/or hurt again? Do you really want to take that risk? Do *I* want to take the emotional & psychological risk of having you disown me again??

I haven't changed much in terms of what you could expect from me. In fact, after going through coaching, I will actually be LESS likely to work just to try to get your approval like I've done in the past. If I couldn't please you back then, I definitely won't be able to do it now.

I can't swallow my upset anymore - that's why I was so messed up for so long. Instead, I work to communicate, and if that doesn't work, I have to just walk away. I wouldn't try to change you; I would work very hard to accept you for what you are and what you aren't. But, I won't willingly allow pain and anger into my life again. I have surrounded myself with just a few people who accept me as I am, and I have let go of people who invite conflict or drama or upset. I am becoming the person I most want to be, and I won't change that for anyone. Of course, not everyone will like that person. That's ok with me, but it may not work for you.

I've gotten to the point where I can share photos & stories of my past with you (that's what I was doing this weekend with my boyfriend, Todd), and laugh and enjoy all the good parts while forgetting all the bad parts. I don't want to introduce any new bad parts to screw it all up again. Yes, it's kind of sad that we're estranged, but for most of my life, it seems like we've both been happier with things that way. Not everyone is meant to get along (or capable of getting along??) really well - even in families. Perhaps we're just too different to enjoy each other or enhance each other's lives in a positive way? You have to admit that we're very different people. That's totally ok - but, it just doesn't make for very satisfying relationships.

Your idea seems good on the surface, but I'm just wondering why you think things could possibly end up any differently. To me, I don't see how they could . . . ?

So, we’ll see what he has to say about that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks we “should” be a family again without really thinking through the “how” and the “why.” I gave him a lot to think about. I’ll keep you posted.

My first reader from Pakistan

This weekend I heard from a very kind, loving and worried man from Pakistan (I’ve included a map below – although I don’t know exactly where this man is from). He told me his wife has been suffering from bulimia for 5 years now. And, it sounds like they're both pretty desperate.

It just kills me when I hear from people from places so different from the US. Sometimes I like to think that bulimia is just a western problem with all our commercialism, our worship of media stars, our vanity, our insane competition to always be ahead of or "better than" our neighbors. But, then every once in a while I hear from people from so far away, and I'm reminded that it's not at all limited to our culture. Bulimia and other eating disorders (not to mention all kinds of addictions and self-destructive coping mechanisms, such as the hikikomori in Eastern cultures) are a world-wide problem. I’m sure as the world gets increasingly connected with media and Internet, it's only going to get worse. The US will be exporting it's messed up values (hopefully some of our good values, too??) all around the world.

As life gets increasingly complex for everyone, we're all going to need to have extremely strong coping abilities – an internal ability to stay calm in chaos, an ability to not need to control everything, an ability to calmly accept change and new ideas and beliefs and practices without feeling threatened, an ability to discern between the changes that could be good for us (which we may accept in our lives) and those that are not inline with our beliefs and values (which we quietly and non-judgmentally allow to pass by). The more I learn about it, the more it seems that the non-religious aspects of Buddhism are really needed about now!

I know that people can adapt, and we will. Maybe all our addictions are just growing pains. And, someday, more teachers will step up and say, “We can learn how to deal with all this change. We can grow to deal with this. Let’s come together, work together, and try our best to love and support each other as we learn – we’re all in this together.” And, maybe someday we will learn these things as children, and we will grow up without all the fear and doubt and chaos that will inevitably lead any unprepared human being to seek out some external source of comfort and calm.

To everyone out there suffering, including family and friends, I am SOO sorry for your pain and confusion and despair. I send you my love, my empathy, and my tears, as well as my optimism, my encouragement, and all my energy to help you through this. You are my brothers and sisters in this battle. Even though you may be from Pakistan, Croatia, Turkey, Spain, Columbia, Germany, Mars, etc . . . we have shared so much together. We know each other quite well. In many ways, we know each other better than some of our families know us -certainly better than our politicians, our militaries, our religious leaders. And, this struggle makes one thing clear for us, at least – life is precious, our health is precious, our friends and families we all are precious, and nothing else in the world is nearly as important as this.

Lessons from bad dreams

**Note: I've edited this post since I realized later that I wanted to keep my list of "lessons" in the format of identifying my irrational 2+2=5 beliefs and challenging them with new, rational ideas.**

I woke up with a headache and  sad feeling this morning. I had a bad dream about my mother and my sister. This particular type of dream has been a chronic torment to me since I was young – and even since I’ve been recovered. I want to tell you about the dream cuz I finally realize there’s a lot for us all to learn.

In my dream, we were all staying in a hotel a few hours drive from home, and it was time to go home. I had to work the next day, and it was extremely important that I be there on time, alert and energetic after a full night’s sleep. While I was packing and getting ready to go, both my mom and Leslie kept going missing. I would have to go find them and beg them to hurry up cuz we absolutely needed to get going. As soon as I got one of them to focus on her task, the other would wander off. Time went by like this, and it was now well past dark. My frustration and anger were now out of control. I began trying to motivate them by screaming at them, calling them names, saying horrible mean things to them. I was in a complete panic because it was getting later and later, and I desperately needed to be home in bed. By the time we were all in the car and heading out of the parking lot, I had to use the bathroom. Oh, the agony of having to stop our progress because of my own fault. The shame and guilt sucked the anger and resentment out of me, and I pledged to immediately be nicer and more patient with my mom and sister. But, there was nothing I could do about the intense frustration and sense of panic practically crippling me with tension and bubbling bigger and bigger inside me as my mother insisted on driving a maddening 50 mph on the freeway.

Although the storyline differs, all of my dreams with my mom and sister have the exact same progression of frustration, rage, and panic as I fail over and over at getting them to do something I believe is critically important. This is basically what my whole childhood really felt like. Even when I was a child, it seemed that I could see and understand all the things they “should” have been doing while they both seemed either oblivious or just unmoved.

For example, my mom never could hold a job for long, for whatever reason, while we lived in financial desperation completely dependant on my father’s unreliable child-support checks. To me, it was utterly obvious that she should get and maintain a job. In the beginning, my prodding was supportive: I tried to take some of the house-hold burden off her so she could focus on job-hunting and maintaining. I became fastidious in house-keeping, I make sure to have a hot cup of coffee waiting for her when she woke in the morning and when she home after work, I did the dishes without first fighting with my sister, I was nice – the “good” child.

When she ended up unemployed again, in my frustration and confusion, I tried the opposite tack: to teach her that life would be so much better if she were just to work. I stopped cleaning, there was no need to make her coffee anymore, I started fighting with my sister again (although was not on purpose), and I began to brow-beat and abuse my mother. And, as I’ve said before in this blog, I could be one mean mother-fucker. I was unusually adept in my ability to pin-point a person’s weak spot, and I’d hit that exact spot over and over, relentlessly. I somehow truly believed that this approach would motivate someone to change and begin making the right choices -or what I judged to be “right!”

Maybe I learned that belief from my dad who played a lot of games with his checks based on his level of satisfaction with the three of us. Maybe I picked it up along the way. I have to say it: I see many variations of my old beliefs and behavior in other people today – even my fellow bloggers. Some people seem to believe that they can change others’ behavior by treating them poorly or even by treating themselves poorly, hoping to manipulate others into feeling responsible and changing their behavior.

So, what is there to learn from my dream(s)? Lots. Below are my old faulty conclusions and 2+2=5 beliefs that led to my pain, with my new rational and reasonable arguments refuting them.

1. Irrational Belief: I can change other people's behavior and choices by rewarding their "good" behavior and punishing their "bad" behavior. Rational Idea: You can’t change other people’s behavior by being nice, being mean, by hurting yourself, or any other manipulative behavior. So give up trying. Accept others as they are or get out of the relationship. You don’t really NEED anyone to act the way you WANT them to.
2. Irrational Belief: If my life and the people in it are "out of control" or not as I would like them to be, I'm not working hard enough. Rational Idea: Life and other people can’t be controlled by you. Begin to accept and even appreciate that everyone and everything around you is essentially and utterly “out of control.” It’s only you –your choices, your creative solutions, your behavior that you have control over. And, even then, I think you and I both know, there are many things about ourselves that are out of control, and we would do better to begin to accept and even appreciate that.
3. Irrational Belief: I NEED to have everything just as I expect and want it to be. If things go against my will, I'm screwed. I have no other options. Rational Idea: Begin to identify when you are attached to your own beliefs and sense of “need.” Attachment and rigidity are very and always dangerous to your wellbeing. Being attached to one exact outcome (like my having to get a full night’s rest and be on time to work in my dream) leads to extreme anxiety, frustration, and rage when things inevitably don’t go as you had planned. Being attached to one outcome shuts down your creative thinking about all the myriad satisfying (or better) alternatives you have to choose from. Just look at all the harm created out of my rigid attachment in my dream – family angst, personal torment, physical discomfort, and I may have done lasting damage to all of us with my hurtful, desperate words. Had I instead relaxed and chosen to look for creative alternatives (since my original plan wasn’t working), I may have chosen to call in sick to work (hardly a life-threatening option), relaxed and enjoyed not being responsible for everyone and everything around me for the day. Perhaps I could have chosen to communicate with my family about their own needs and wants rather than insisting that only mine were right for all of us and, in effect, more important than anyone else’s.
4. Irrational Belief: My family should share my values, beliefs, and goals in life. If they don't, they (or I?!) must be really messed up. Rational Idea: Each member of our families is unique, with unique beliefs about what is right and important. We believe, since we share many similarities, our genes, our home, and many experiences, that we should all think and interpret things alike. That is a major 2+2=5 belief that creates a lot of pain that can potentially last a lifetime. Stop expecting and insisting that they all think and value things just like you. They don’t and they won’t. Let it go.
5. Irrational Belief: My family and friends should always be fully supportive, loving, respectful, and proud of me in all my endeavors, whether or not I reciprocate. Rational Idea: As you give, so shall you get. As a child I freely gave out criticism, instructions, judgment, rage, and other expressions of my frustration at others not acting as I deemed they “should” and at life not being as I deemed it “should.” And, look at how I turned out – persistently depressed, angry at the world and everyone in it, panic-stricken and near paralyzed with fear that I should fail at creating the life I judged I “needed” and criticized all others for not having, and bulimic with binging and purging providing the only refuge I found from the overwhelming chaos in my head and my emotions. As I have learned to give compassion and kindness to everyone I meet (for they, too, may be suffering as I had), my efforts have been persistently and reliably rewarded. If you want acceptance, you must accept others just as they are. If you want kindness, you must dole it out to ALL. If you want people to do what you want, make efforts to understand and respect what they want, and perhaps they will better appreciate and respect what you want. Otherwise, forget it. Your stubbornness in insisting your needs are most important will be met with resistance and resentment.
6. Irrational Belief: My life is horrible! My parents screwed me up; my "friends" are never there for me; society just doesn't understand or care about me. If no one steps up and helps me, I'm bound to live a horrible life forever. Rational Idea: We create and maintain our own hell. We certainly don’t intend or want to, but we do, with our attachments and false beliefs and by obsessing over things we have no control over but believe we should. Generally, we aren’t consciously aware that we’re choosing to live our own created hells, because we’re acting according to deeply held beliefs and our own interpretations of right and wrong, good and bad, and “truth.” All we can do is realize at least some of our beliefs are causing us pain and so are wrong, and then work to seek out a trusted teacher or teachers who can help us learn how to think, interpret, and choose more rationally, more healthily, more productively. As we make better choices, we feel better and better, and our hell slowly gives way to heaven.
7. Irrational Belief: I hate my family. I hate my friends. I hate my job. I hate my city. So, my life sucks & there's nothing I can do but trudge through each day, being miserable. Rational Idea: It’s a huge world out there. And, you have infinite opportunities to find the people you want in your life and infinite opportunities to create the life you want. We should all be incredibly grateful for all the opportunities and freedom we have –for each new day to begin again and try again. Use your failures from your past only to give creative guidance to things you still haven’t tried. Keep the lesson, forget the negative emotions and attachment. I mean completely FORGET. Each new day and each new choice are grand experiments – use them to experience and learn as much as you possibly can and move on. Stop thrashing and wailing about the circumstances of your life . . . either take action to change them or accept that your circumstances are just as you maintain them.

Wow, I sure had a lot to say about my dream(s). Perhaps now that I have faced them and all the important lessons hidden in them, I won’t need to have a dream like this anymore – boy, that would be a wonderful miracle. I have faced my past mistakes and my faulty beliefs that led to them. I have challenged those beliefs here in writing, and I have proved to myself just how irrational they were. I have identified alternative options for the future. And, importantly, I have used this time to forgive myself for acting (however regrettably) on those irrational beliefs. It wasn’t my fault that those beliefs took root and grew. Ideally, a teacher of some sort would have sat me down and taught me those lessons way back then. Instead, I was left to figure things out on my own, including how to deal with my confusion that not everyone saw the world and how it should be managed as I did.

One last thought. I’m not religious at all; I’m an atheist, in fact. But, I cherish the “Serenity Prayer.” There is so much wisdom packed into it. It is officially my new, daily mantra. I might just change the “God” part to “Michelle” since I believe the source of all spiritual power is actually within us – all of us.

God, grant me the

serenity to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

Christmas & family

I woke up with a song in my head this morning, and it goes, “So many times it happens that we live our lives in chains. And, we never even know we have the key.” These lines just kept repeating in my head over & over.

I’ve thought about Jeremy a lot this week. I know he’s really suffering because he feels so alone and unwanted this holiday season. I know what that’s like. I’ve spent many Christmas’s alone. It took years for me to realize I could enjoy it this way. In my family, anytime we all got together, such as holidays, there was always at least a little bit of screaming and fighting and meanness. There was always at least a little guilt, a little resentment, a little regret. Usually, however, there was a lot of all these bad emotions. Around the holidays, the grass is ALWAYS greener on the other side. It makes me so sad that we all think we NEED to have our families around us this time of year. But, then, if we get our wish, we often end up angry or hurt and crying, wishing we were far, far away from our families.

It's not our fault. It's society that teaches us that Christmas time HAS to be so special and wonderful and filled with loving, adoring family and friends. So many people get severely depressed and feel worthless at this time of year, I just wish we could all stand up and say, ENOUGH! This is ridiculous! But, society needs us to continue the tradition of spending way too much money on travel and gifts and trees and decorations and food and all that other stuff - just to support the economy. Ok, I know I'm a little jaded, but come on! The commercialism of Christmas has gotten totally out of hand. And, the more commercials and store displays we're bombarded with, the more we feel awful if our holidays don't measure up to the gift card photos and made for TV holiday movies we've been made to judge ourselves and our families against. My sister couldn't deal with it - she killed herself right after the holidays in 2003. And, Jeremy is teetering awfully close to the same edge for the same reasons. And, yes, that makes me angry.

I know this sounds frightening, sad, or even awful, but for you to get well and happy and secure with yourself and your life, you are going to have to begin to accept certain facts:

1)       Your family will probably never give you what you think you need.

2)       Your family will probably never be the people you want them to be.

3)       You don’t NEED your family to change or to be anything other than what and who they currently are.

4)       The only person who NEEDS to be consistently kind to you is YOU.

5)       You had better learn to like yourself and enjoy your own company, cuz the only person who will always be with you and who will always love and care for you and always put you first in priority is YOU.

6)       Remember, you are a product of your family. You are missing certain rational life skills most likely (but not always) because they didn’t have them to teach them to you. You are responsible for continuing your education to become the person you want to be and should be. They are no longer responsible for your education or growth or nurturing.

7)       As you continue in your journey of learning, you most likely will end up stronger, braver, more compassionate, more loving, more capable in life than they are. Your dissatisfaction with them may grow. But, you can’t insist they come along with you on your path. You have to accept them as they are and keep your heart protected if they try to keep you down at the lower level of growth they got stuck at.

8)       Christmas has become a media-construct that is very good at manipulating your emotions so that you buy, buy, buy. And, if you have no one to buy for, you’re essentially worthless to society because you’re not participating in the economy. The thing that really gets you in the heart . . . “I’m worthless.” You have to stop buying into that powerful media message – you will have to stop allowing yourself to be manipulated into judging yourself and your life against an unrealistic, non-existent media-construct.

I know many of you have great families, and you should be grateful and appreciative to them. Even so, these facts hold true for you, too. Let me tell you this, after spending 2 Christmas’s with Todd’s very close-to-perfect family. Even though they are all very close and loving and best friends, there is nothing magical or transcendent about Christmas with them. It is fun and relaxing, and that’s it. No one expects to give or receive the “perfect gift,” or that any of the gifts are going to change anyone’s life. No one gets down on their knees, weeping with joy about Christmas or how amazing and wonderful and lucky the family is. Even for a close-to-perfect family . . . Christmas is not even the tiniest bit like the made for TV movies. So, you need to get over it. You’re not missing much – except perhaps for watching the kids get so excited about their presents (that is fun) or a really good Christmas Eve dinner. But, most of you would be really stressed out about a big dinner anyway.

You know my favorite Christmas? It was the year I got my dog, 2002. And, she and I were completely, utterly alone. It’s a funny story, actually. I was dating a guy at the time. It was nothing serious, but he was enjoyable and decent company. The plan was for me to cook Christmas Eve dinner for him and a couple of his friends over at his place (I was living in a studio apartment at the time and didn’t have any room). I remember I was sick with a head & chest cold, and my dog was still fearful (I had just gotten her on December 17), and she still had her stitches from getting fixed. Neither of us was in great shape, and it was POURING rain that whole week. But, I really wanted to have a big Christmas Eve dinner with good company.

I lugged everything over to his place December 23. I spent the night and got up pretty early the 24^th to get started cooking. At that point, the guy began freaking out a little bit. Somehow, having some chick was over at his place cooking a big holiday meal with her ailing dog lying about somehow felt like a serious commitment to him. It totally bugged him out, and he couldn’t handle it. So, I was like, “fine, I’ll leave, no problem.” He didn’t even try to stop me. I had to lug everything back to my car, then lug it all back out and up to my studio in the pouring rain. Honestly, it was totally fine with me, even though I felt like hell. I remember calling my sister about it and laughing about it. It really was quite ridiculous. She felt bad that I was going to be alone. But, I was quite thankful I wasn’t going to hanging out with and making a big dinner for someone who didn’t really want me around.

I said screw it to all the side dishes and just made the turkey and stuffing for myself. Of course, it was a 16 pound turkey, and I couldn’t fit it in my little bar-sized sink to rinse it off. I had to rinse it under the bathtub faucet! I could barely fit the thing into my tiny stove! But, damn if it turn out awesome! I had 8 pounds of turkey for me, and 8 pounds of turkey for my 25 pound dog.

I spent the holiday in bed and playing with my new best friend and constant, ever loyal companion, Maxi. There was no fighting, no resentment, no guilt, no anxiety. Only love and cuddling and doing whatever the hell we wanted to do. I felt wonderful and free and thoroughly at peace and happy. And, THAT is what I think Christmas time is all about.

People, you are adults now. It is time you sit down and figure out what you want your holidays and your life to look and feel like. Then, it is your responsibility to go out there and learn how to create that for yourself. If you want good friends and family around – find yourself some good friends and family – they don’t have to be the ones you currently have or were born with. In fact, you may HAVE to find new ones. And, if you can’t find what you’re looking for, or if it takes a few years for you to find it, promise yourself that you will create a wonderful, blessed holiday and life for yourself, by yourself and with yourself. Trust me, you really don’t need anyone else to be happy (ok, maybe you might need a pet like I do). Please promise me you’ll do your best to learn to become your own best friend and constant, ever loyal companion: one who is always there for you; one who will always prioritize you over all else; one you can completely trust and rely on and feel safe with.

This may be your biggest challenge in life, but it will also be your biggest, most significant and life-long lasting achievement in life.

How good, loving, supportive families can create addicts

I have struggled with this for a long time, ever since s0ma wrote a comment way back on 2/9/05 in response to my post, College is hell on Borderlines & Bulimics. She wrote that she really struggled to understand why she was bulimic because her parents were always loving, supportive, and accepting. Apparently it’s easier to accept ourselves as flawed and with problems when we can see that our childhoods were unusually tough. Since she didn’t have that excuse, she struggled even more.

I didn’t have an answer for her back then, and I’ve been searching for one ever since. I think I’ve found it in the book I’m currently reading, Self-Defeating Behaviors: Free Yourself from the Habits, Compulsions, and Attitudes That Hold You Back, by Milton R. Cudney, Ph.D. and Robert E. Hardy, Ed.D.

They write,

“In other cases, however, the relationship between people’s unhappiness or failure and their family subsystems is not as clearly defined. This is especially true when family subsystems give their members toxic messages that are sent with the best of intentions. We’ve come to think of these kinds of messages as the sweet poisons. A sweet poison is a toxic message that is sent to an individual to help him or her avoid or cope with a potential difficulty, but that ultimately serves only to create a new problem or make a current problem worse.”

The authors also had to work to understand how good families produce kids who seek external coping mechanisms. It’s a sneaky concept, but it goes like this: when parents are always encouraging and optimistic and proud, they unknowingly fail to set realistic expectations in their children. They don’t realize that they need to teach their kids about what life is really like: sometimes it’s completely unfair, cruel, and oftentimes, things don’t work out like they “should” or like we expect them to.

Toxic education can happen when parents work diligently at building their child’s self-esteem. “In attempting to do so, however, what this adult inculcates in the child is a hopelessly idealistic or simplified notion of how the world really works. The child is told that he or she can reasonably expect constant success; that justice always prevails in the world, that compromise is never necessary; and, more often than not, that a single idealized virtue (“hard work,” “good sportsmanship,” or “a positive attitude,” to name only a few) is the key to perpetual happiness.”

“Though they can hardly be viewed as abusive, such messages as these can prove every bit as toxic as denigrating comments or a stony withholding of affection. Why? Because eventually, a person suffused with a sweet poison will run headlong into the insensitive workings of the larger cultural system.”

This certainly happened with me. My mom always encouraged to me to work hard in school, get good grades, and get into a good college. After that, she seemed to teach, my success would be guaranteed, and I would be sure to never end up in the poverty I was raised in. While I still believe that bit of advice was one of her best to me, it’s true that after I worked my ass off and completed college at a prestigious university, I was incredibly frustrated, disappointed, and confused as to why “success” seemed to elude me. I hadn’t been taught the full picture of how to achieve success, and I had no idea what to do once my formal education was over.

My sister was raised with slightly different expectations. She didn’t like school, so she didn’t excel. Somehow she ended up as “the caretaker.” She took care of my mom until she passed away, my grandpop until he passed away, and then she focused on me. Taking care of people gave her a purpose and sense of value. I remember after my pop died, she lost her purpose for awhile. She felt disconnected and like she was drifting with no clue of what she was supposed to do next. I remember very clearly how she fell into a long depression with no reason to climb her way out of it. She felt hopeless and value-less.

Anyway, think about any “sweet poisons” you may have received from your family. We have to have reasonable expectations to be able to cope well in life. If we believe down to our core that life is always fair, that people will always be kind to us if we’re kind to them, that hard work always results in success, that we are wonderful people so others will always think of us and treat us as wonderful, etc, then we’re in for a very rude awakening, with no tools to help us cope.

Think about it.

Family, celebration, & food

It’s funny – I just realized that today, June 25, is my dad and step-mother’s 29^th anniversary. Their 25^th anniversary in 2002 is exactly why and when they decided to disown my sister and me. They didn’t think we were making big enough plans to celebrate it, and it hurt them. Oh well. It’s too bad. It seems so appropriate that I would call and wish them a happy anniversary today. But, we all agree that we’re just too different to really “get” each other without getting all upset, let alone ever be able to be family again. It really is the best thing. But, if you’re reading this, dad and Sandy, I do hope you’re having a good day and still finding lots to love in each other.

More pleasant family news: today some of Todd’s family is coming to stay with us and have a big barbeque and pool party with us and some of Todd’s other friends who are close with his family, too. His brother and sister-in-law and their 3 kids are coming in at about 3 pm and staying overnight as a stop-over before flying out to Hawaii tomorrow. They’ve had a really nice family weekend as they slowly meander up to LA from San Diego: yesterday they went to the Queen Mary and to Knott’s Berry Farm water park and then stayed in a hotel somewhere last night. I think for tonight, we may set up my tent out back for the kids. If I were a kid still – I would enjoy that. Hell, I still would enjoy that!

This day is a very good example of why it’s so good to be recovered and be totally ok with normal food. It’s going to be chaotic and fun and happy. I wouldn’t want to have to leave the party to go make myself a special meal. We’re going to have a wide selection of burgers, hot dogs, sausage, and BBQ meatballs along with ceasar salad, chips & guacamole, potato chips, nuts, and watermelon. I LOVE and am so THANKFUL that I can eat anything I want now. Not necessarily as MUCH as I want, of course, but I can eat and enjoy small amounts of absolutely anything.

Last night we went to a birthday party where there was plenty of food. Again, I enjoyed eating little bits of everything. There was some beautiful fruit and crudite that I ate lots of, but I also sampled the cheese and crackers, my favorite cookies, and really enjoyed the hot meatballs. I also shared with Todd a slice of the absolutely crazy good chocolate mousse cake.

Life is to be sampled and enjoyed. Some things you’ll really enjoy, and you’ll have a little more of those. Some things you won’t really enjoy, and you’ll put those down and forget them without thinking twice.

I admit that it’s easier for me to not think a lot about what I eat since Todd cooks our dinners. I plan my breakfast and lunch to be as quick and easy –and nutritious- as possible. But, I eat whatever Todd cooks for dinner. It’s worked out beautifully for me this way because, mostly . . .

I’m just so damn tired of thinking about food!

I spent 14 years of my life thinking about precious little else, and I’m sick of it.

I simply want my food every day to be balanced and nutritious with plenty of veggies, fruit, whole grains, lean protein, healthy oils, and a small dose of “fun” food (chocolate, chips, ice cream, whatever). What I actually eat everyday . . . I don’t necessarily care, as long as it meets these overall goals.

Aren’t you tired of thinking about food, too? There are so many other things to think about that would really please you, don’t you think?

My new family

I have a good post on irrational thoughts that I’m working on now, but first I want to share with you what a wonderful morning it’s been today.

Todd’s parents are spending the weekend with us for Father’s Day. We had an incredible meal out last night, and then this morning, Todd & I made a big breakfast for everyone. The day is absolutely gorgeous, so we sat outside to enjoy our meal. Right now (before coming in to type this up), we’re all still outside. I’m in the pool on my float writing. Todd’s dad is sitting in the sun reading 2 Sunday papers. Todd and his mom are working together on the NYT cross word puzzle. Our 3 dogs are all sleeping in the shade. It is incredibly peaceful and happy.

Remember, my own immediate family was pretty crazy. Not funny sit-com crazy, but really messed up. My sister killed herself, for God’s sake. But, since I recovered from my ailments –bulimia, panic, rage, depression, my other borderline personality disorder symptoms- I have found this wonderful, loving man with a wonderful, loving, tight-knit family to be part of. I feel so blessed. And, I’m so happy I get to share it with you –to show you that whatever you value most in your life really can be yours. It might not be today or tomorrow, but by working a little bit each day, by growing a little bit each day in compassion, acceptance, gratitude, and all those other CVs on your list, you, too, will be blessed beyond your dreams.

A beautiful night of remembrance

Well, thanks to my amazing boyfriend, Todd, my sister Leslie's 36 birthday celebration was wonderful! You can see a few photos here.

What an incredible difference between last year when I denied and avoided my emotions about her death and this year when I could easily talk about how I was feeling and ask for help and support from those who love me. In the course of a few hours, I bawled my eyes out for missing her, laughed in remembrance of our many wonderful memories together, and toasted her in love and honor of her life.

In recovery, I learned that to be alive and live well, we need to respect our feelings enough to express them, not fear them or judge them or hate ourselves for feeling them.

Of course, I also learned that it's my choice to either dwell on the pain and sadness or just accept them, feel them, and then actively change my focus to the good times, the beautiful times, and my gratitude for those.

I feel healthy, strong, and absolutely no urge to turn to any kind of coping mechanism, because I coped just fine on my own . . . with a little help from my friends, of course.

In loving memory of Leslie

Today, December 1, is my sister Leslie’s birthday. Her 36^th birthday. Or, rather it would have been had she lived to see it. Two years ago next month, she committed suicide.

Last year, I didn’t handle today very well. I couldn’t talk with my boyfriend at that time about what I needed to deal with the day. The bigger problem is that I just didn’t know what I needed. I floundered about in denial and avoidance and made some mistakes that hurt both him and me.

This year, I feel much better about today. And, since recovery, I’ve actually learned to better understand what I need to handle my thoughts and feelings in a healthy, self-nurturing way. And, since recovery, I’ve learned to value those needs so that I can ask for help if I need or want it from others. I decided over the weekend that I would like to do something special in recognition of Leslie’s birthday. So, I told my boyfriend that I would like to make her favorite drink, chocolate martinis, and toast her tonight. From there, our plans just grew. Since we’re having her favorite drink, why not have her favorite, flourless chocolate cake? And, why not have a special dinner as well?

So, my precious, loving and understanding boyfriend is making us a really nice steak dinner tonight, all in Leslie’s name. And, since neither of us could find a flourless chocolate cake to buy, he offered to make one.

Today, I gave a speech at my Toastmasters meeting in remembrance of her. I brought in a bunch of photos of her, and some of her art work, and her makeup portfolio (she was an incredible makeup artist). I told some of my favorite stories about her, and I shared a few of the things I admire most about her. I brought in some of her favorite candies to share. And, I wore a new shirt Todd gave me that Leslie would have loved me in.

For today, I have chosen to only think about the good stuff, the fun stuff, the happy stuff. I refuse to entertain ideas of anything negative or hurtful. Her pain is over – I refuse to keep it alive by dwelling on it. I love her, and this is how I choose to spend her birthday: in loving gratitude for all the years I did have her. For all that she taught me. For all the ways she brightened my life. For all that she loved in her life and all that gave her joy and made her smile – that beautiful smile. I’m so thankful that I had her with me, even if it wasn’t meant to be for long.

I love you, Leslie. My best friend in the world. My true confidante. The only one in the world who truly knew me – ALL of me – and who accepted me completely – with all the ugly, shameful, regretful stuff. The only one since our mom who truly loved me unconditionally, forever, no matter what I did or how I may have hurt you in our past.

And, I accept you completely. Even if I don’t like your decisions – even if I hate your decisions. I trust you and respect you that you did the absolute best you could. But, God, you are so missed and so loved. I hope you know that, sis.

My mom-sister, Marcy

I'm sorry I've been MIA this week. My sister's mother has been in town visiting her son, my sister's half-brother. Did you get all that?! My sister was adopted by my parents 2 days after her birth. But, when she turned 22, she met her biological family, which are incredibly just like her and are really great people! They became part of our unique, extended family.

Marcy, my sister's mother, is wonderful and a true gift to me now. She is SO (almost frighteningly) like Leslie that it's like spending time with my sister who died over a year ago. I just adore her! She's got the same open, giving heart. And, she treats me like a daughter as well as a sister. I've decided to call her my "mom-sister" because she floats between those two roles with me, and I'm so grateful. I haven't had a mom in 12 years since I was 22, and I've been without my sister for what feels like an eternity as well.

I am truly blessed to have her in my life.

Our relationships with our parents

Last night I had my first Recovery Group meeting! I have two amazing and beautiful women who shared their stories and made the decision to pursue getting well with me. I am going to use my blog to share their progress, issues, and their words with you.

A little background: Angela is 21 years old and has struggled with eating disorders for 9 years since she was about 12 (that young age just breaks my heart!). She has never been in treatment and in fact has only told one other person before last night. She lives with her mother and has one older brother who does not live at home.

The other woman, Emily, is 25 and has struggled for 4 years. She has tried everything to get well: therapy, medications, even an inpatient program – to no avail. She lives with both her parents who have been supportive and willing to do whatever it takes to help her. She has 5 siblings.

Angela is really concerned that her poor relationship with her mother is a constant, persistent obstacle for her growth and well-being. But, since I’m 34, I’m really removed from living with my parents. I had to think about this for awhile, and this is what I want to say . . .

This is an area where you will learn and grow. You first must accept and trust that even if you’re living with parents and they drive you crazy, your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are still your choice. Through recovery, you will learn how to completely trust yourself to make the right choices to make the relationship as healthy and satisfying to you as possible – even without changing their behavior or language at all.

The key here is being in touch with how you’re feeling and trusting those feelings.

You have to learn how to differentiate between when you can stay and deal with a situation in a way that will enable you to feel good about yourself later, and when you simply need to leave the situation to protect yourself.

For example, your mother (for example) is pestering you relentlessly to clean your room or do some other chore. You would rather not do it at this moment, but you make the decision to comply simply because it will make you feel good about yourself. You can make a relatively small effort to please her.

Another example to consider: your father (for example) is deriding you or criticizing you for choices you made in the past. You may choose at this time to try out your new communication strategies and work to gain his understanding and support. So, you do your deep breathing exercises to calm yourself, and then you calmly explain that, yes, perhaps you’ve made bad decisions in the past, but now you are working hard at learning how to be a better person and make better decisions going forward. And, one of the things that you are no longer allowed to do is engage in is negativity: negative thoughts or negative language. Negativity completely cuts off our ability to hope, be creative, be inspired, and move forward in a positive way – the very things you need to change your life for the better. You explain to your father that you would love to share all the positive things you are learning, but you cannot do that in the face of any negativity or doubt. Not only is it counterproductive, but your coach instructed that you have to walk away from it now while you’re still in the fragile learning period of recovery!

As you learn how to reconnect and trust your heart (not your over-protective, defensive head) in these situations, you will grow increasingly confident in your ability to make the right decisions for you. You will increasingly act only in accordance with the person you are striving to become – patient, calm, a great communicator, a role model for others, and a source of hope, peace, acceptance, forgiveness, and positivity.

In the last example, if you find after you’ve given your best shot at getting your father to understand and respect your new requirement for no negativity that he can’t or won’t for whatever reason provide this support to you at this particular moment, you must walk away. I mention “this particular moment” because he also has bad negative habits (we all do until we consciously decide to change), and chances are that he will have to go away and really think about what you said. At that point, he may decide to try to better support you next time. Always bear in mind that just like for you, stopping the negative thoughts and language takes practice and desire. You should be prepared to repeat this scenario again, maybe many times.

At some point, you will have to take this step with your parents to communicate your new goals and how you would like them to support you on your journey. They need to know what you want and need in order to give it to you. And, at times, they may need guidance on how to give that support to you, as well as gentle reminders if they revert to their old ways of communicating and being negative.

Reacting to negativity with anger will only hurt you more – you will feel badly about it later. Reacting to negativity with desperation denies yourself of your own internal power to take care of yourself. You are an adult and so no longer need your parents to take care of you or treat you the way you want to be treated. You would love and prefer good treatment from them, but you don’t need it for survival. You are learning to do that for yourself. As a healthy adult, you are able and responsible for surrounding yourself with positive support, acceptance, and love – from yourself and others. You deserve it, you need it as a human being, and you are responsible now for seeking it out to take good care of yourself.

Do your best to act in all situations, good or bad, in a way that will make you proud and respectful of yourself later. Remember that sometimes walking away may be the only way to do that. When the time comes to make that decision, listen to your heart, and you will know.

When Parents Hurt Us

One reader, Taylor, wrote:

“my dad left and acted as if he didn’t care about us my whole life... my dad's parents both died before he was 12... so you can say that his childhood might have been messed up. He’s still being an absolute ass hole. what should I do? should I tell him about how I am mad? I never talk to my dad. just recently he has talked to me about his childhood and other things... but I never tell him about my life.. or problems. sometimes he doesn’t know where I am living. he doesn’t know about my bulimia... (unless my mom has told him... but he would NEVER confront me about something like that). I know he has issues... but I really don’t even want to talk to him. should I call him even though I don’t want to? I know he would never just call me for no reason. he lives about a half an hour away from my school... and I have a comfortable bed at his house. but I cant go there to enjoy any of it because I am so mad at him. what do you recommend?”

I have a lot (too much?) to say on this, so I’m putting it in my blog.

The anger you feel toward your father for leaving you is something you're going to have to deal with. Keep in mind that all I know is what you tell me, and what I know from my own experience with my father. When I was your age, I wasn't even talking to my father. I didn't speak with him between the ages of 17 and 24. And, as of today, I haven't spoken with him in about 5 years (except to tell him that his other daughter committed suicide, but that’s another unpleasant story about him).

Anyone who feels injured by their parents is going to have to work long and hard on this, mostly because, if you're like me, you're going to second guess everything you think because you don't trust that your judgment or emotions are valid. But, try to trust your hurt on this one. Some of the things you’ll have to understand:

1) You have to accept that your father deeply hurt you. I'm not saying that he's a bad person, but he certainly dropped the ball on some aspects of fatherhood. He really hurt you by not being there and by making you feel like he didn't love you or want you in his life. He caused you to doubt your worth and value for being loved and cared for. Maybe you think like this (I sure did): “if my parents don’t want to be around me or take care of me, why would anyone else? Maybe there is something wrong with me?” You respond with anger because anger is much easier for anyone to cope with, rather than having to deal with these very painful thoughts and emotions.

2) You have to accept that your father is human and that, as you guessed, he too missed out on some critical learning experiences as a child. He hasn’t reached the level of emotional maturity he should have long ago. This doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, but it indicates he’s a damaged person, just like you and me. In many ways, as his child, you were doomed to have a tougher childhood experience because he never even had all the skills he needed to teach you.

3) This one is critical for you to understand and believe deeply. You cannot and will not change your father! There is nothing you can do to make him more attentive or affectionate with you. There is only one person in this world you can change – you. And, there is one person you need to take care of above all else (at least until you have children) – you. What this means is that if being around your father triggers you in any way, right now you may have to limit your time with him. This will hurt because he’s your father, and of course you still need him and want him involved in your life. BUT, if he won’t or can’t meet your needs, you have to give up your hopes that maybe THIS time, he’ll be different. He won’t. He needs to do as much work on himself as you’re doing on you before he’ll be able to reach out to you in the way that you need.

4) If you don’t feel it’s necessary to break all contact with him, you can simply define a new type of relationship that works for you. It will take some delicate trial and error to find the best mix of contact, but this could result in a much more satisfying relationship with him. If being with him too long ends up triggering you, reduce the amount of time committed to him. You may be able to handle only a dinner with him. If being with him at all is too challenging, try phone calls. If that doesn’t work, try writing him letters to keep in touch while protecting yourself from being triggered. Perhaps you’ll feel fine with him but completely triggered by the step-kids. Then, you can find creative ways to spend time alone with your dad. You must TRUST your feelings on this one. If you want to spend time with him and can accept him as he is, work on finding creative ways to do that.

Taylor, your father seems like he is trying to reach out to you. He’s not the greatest at reaching out or at communication, but, as his daughter, you could probably use some work in this area, too. I think it might be worth telling him how you’re feeling. But, this is very delicate because people tend to act defensively when someone tells them they’re not doing the best job. You, too, have to try to stay calm, not accusatory, and only speak about how you feel. Speak from the hurt, not the anger. Say things like “I feel you didn’t want me in your life; I feel like you deserted me; I feel like you don’t love me; I FEEL HURT.” At all costs, avoid saying things like: “You deserted me; you hurt me; you’re a jerk!” Hopefully, he’ll respond well to this, and with a commitment from BOTH of you to work on healthier, more open communication, it could be the start of a new healthier relationship.

Thankfully your situation isn’t quite like mine: I won’t have any contact with my father at all. Of course, he’s perfectly happy with that arrangement as well. I feel he is incapable of seeing me as a valuable individual who may not be perfect, but is still inherently worth having a relationship with. He refuses to acknowledge his role in our messed up relationship, and he refuses to work on changing his behavior with me. We actually had a few good years where we both worked on our relationship and communicating with each other, and I grew to trust him and love him deeply. But, somewhere along the way, he decided that I just disappointed him to the point of despair. I watched him get increasingly irrational about how I let him down, but when someone’s irrational, there’s no reasoning with him. So, to protect my fragile mental health and senses of self-worth and esteem, I had to let go of my hopes of having a good relationship (or any relationship) with the man. He’s simply not good for me. And, now that I’m finally opening up to others, I’m finding SO many good, healthy, accepting, loving people out there in the world. So, this decision is increasingly easy to bear, and I’m feeling increasingly validated that it’s the right decision for me. It took many years and lots of work and restarts for us to get to this point, though. You are FAR from this.

Just please remember: whether you’re arguing, pleading, crying, or trying to be perfect and pleasant and wonderful - NOTHING you do will change his behavior, until he is ready to work on it, on his own.

Lastly, look at your situation as a great opportunity to stop the madness in your family. Your father got his crap from his parents, and you got your crap from him. It’s time to put an end to it. And, you can do it! You’re already working on improving yourself and learning the skills you’re missing, and you’re still so YOUNG! If I can do it at 34, you can do it now when you know your whole life is ahead of you, and you can choose to live it however you want! Please keep me posted, ok?

I forgive myself

I realize now that one of my biggest obstacles to overcoming bulimia is my guilt for contributing to my mom’s illness and my sister’s struggles and her ultimate suicide.  Before dismissing that notion, you need to appreciate that throughout my teen years and on up until my mom died when I was 22, I was downright, persistently ugly to them both. 

MOM

If you read my entry “My Crazy Family,” you know that my mom, diagnosed bi-polar, had a hell of a time dealing with even the smallest of responsibilities and challenges.  I had spent a lot of time trying to be helpful and encouraging, to no avail.  I had “learned” that being helpful was pretty ineffective at getting her to do the right things – like get a job, quit smoking, take care of her health, or otherwise just wake up and be present with us.  It was so frustrating to me.  At some point I decided, however unconsciously, to try the opposite approach - if to accomplish nothing other than to get a response out of her.  Even anger, even rage, would have been welcome.  I got nothing but sad silence.  I don’t remember her ever yelling back.  I responded with increasing rage and indignation.  We had come to a tentative peace only once I had moved away to college.

LESLIE

My older sister, Leslie, was always a fish out of water.  My parents had adopted her as an infant in Philadelphia and brought her home to upstate NY.  Her genetics screamed big city, and yet here she was stuck in a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere.  Even worse, she had 3 very typical upstate bumpkins as her family.  Not only were we 3 quite at home there, we couldn’t understand for the life of us why she just couldn’t seem to fit in.  Very sadly, neither could she.  All she knew was that she was unhappy and very much a misfit.  Not until her late 20’s was Leslie ever accepted for who she was.  Labeled by teachers and her family alike as a lost, rebellious teenager, all the wonderful gifts and strengths she had been born with began to fade along with her self-esteem.  Her grades fell as steadily as her weight went up.  And, her quiet suffering made her the perfect target for all my rage and frustration.  I was SO mean to her . . . ridiculing, blaming, screaming out her deficiencies and failures as I saw them.  I made sure to remind her daily of her weight, her poor grades, her lack of boyfriends and popularity.  I served as a persistent reminder to her general failure, that is, of course, until she was ready to take on that role for me.  Long after I had moved away to college, her battles raged on.

I have struggled with this ugly past and my horrible guilt.  I used both of them to make myself feel better – bigger, stronger, better.  In so doing, I contributed to (in Leslie’s case, even planted the seeds for) their depression, self-criticism, hopelessness, and ultimate defeat.  Leslie struggled so hard to find her place in the world – to fit in, feel acceptance, approval and love.  At times, it appeared she had found a foothold in her struggle.  2004 had been very promising for her career and her dreams.  But, I guess she was exhausted from fighting so hard and so long.  At the age of 35, she gave up the fight.  She took all the pills she could find or get her psychiatrist to prescribe – including Wellbutrin, Klonopin, and a couple others – and she committed suicide.  She died on 1/13/04 alone in her apartment and was found 2 days later on 1/15/04.  Of course, a big piece of me died that day, too.

You can see now why I struggle so much with guilt – because I’m guilty.  I’m not saying I alone caused Leslie’s death or my mother’s demise.  I battle too much with feelings of powerlessness to think for a moment that I had that much control over two people.  I certainly, however, contributed to their depressions.

Guilt is very powerful when left to fester in one’s heart.  It robs all the good, positive beliefs that are critical for living a healthy, productive, fulfilling life filled with love and friendship.  I can’t enjoy my success because I feel I have won at the expense of the people closest to me.  I can’t be happy or enjoy happy times when I caused so much pain and misery in people I love.  I can’t love freely when I fear I will create similar anguish for those who get too close to me.  I’m very good at breaking people.  I am selfish, manipulative, angry, mean, ugly, hateful.

I could easily go on like this – just surviving each day without joy.  Beating myself up regularly, reminding myself at times of the human destruction I have left in my wake. I’m as good at beating up myself as I am at beating up others.

The big problem?  I found something I want.  Something to live for.  I tried to scare it away; I tried to sabotage it.  It wouldn’t go.  I realized, soon, that I needed it, that I wanted it more than I had wanted anything in a very long time.  After awhile I understood that to truly have and keep this thing, I would have to become a much better person.  There is no way I could become a better person when I spend so much of my time focusing on beating myself up over the past. I would have to forgive myself.  And, I could only that if I could believe deeply in my heart that they forgive me, too.  But they’re dead – how could I possibly know they forgive me?!

Yes, my mom is my mom.  Certainly a mother could forgive her child for anything, right?  As reasonable as this may sound, I unfortunately have a father who basically disowned me.  He was disappointed in me as a person and decided his life would be happier without me in it.  And, I had never even treated him badly like I had my mother.  Quite a barrier to forgiveness, huh?

And, yes, I had managed in Leslie’s last few years to forge the strongest, most honest and accepting relationship I had ever experienced.  I was in awe of the woman she had become.  I admired, respected, needed, and loved her with all my heart.  She was my best friend, confidant, and ally in the world.  She was my biggest fan and I, hers.  I will always be comforted that in her last visit with me – just over a month before she died- I made sure she knew of my respect and love.  I remember telling her with all heart that she had become my role-model – for driving relentlessly after her dream no matter what, for her abundance of loving friends, for her amazing creativity, her bottomless giving spirit, and her complete selflessness.  We both were amazed at how our roles reversed.  She had become the sister with all the self-esteem and success; I was the one crippled by my bulimia.  It was our most loving, laugh-filled time ever.  I remember exclaiming through tears of laughter “I never realized how damn funny you are!”  God, how I miss her.

So, it sounds like she had already forgiven me, huh?  But, the problem is that she and I both had to forget and get over a lot of the bad stuff we experienced early on.  I have no comfort that she didn’t just block it out without ever confronting the pain I had caused.  She may, just to survive, have projected the blame onto my mom who was dead and gone, while I was still here.  And, I do believe it was me who planted seeds of worthlessness and failure in her heart and left them for her to nurture at each hurdle or disappointment in her life.  How can I possibly forgive myself for that?

Luckily for me I have a stubborn coach (NOT a therapist, mind you) whom I hired to help me through my recovery.  Recently, he ignored my refusal to even address, let alone forgive, my father for being so mean-spirited and selfish at the time of Leslie’s death.  And, at a moment in our work, when I was in a peak emotional state and very vulnerable, he asked if I could leave open just the tiniest bit of room in my heart in case my father at some point wanted to be back in my life.  In that emotional state, it just didn’t feel right in my heart to say no.  What I did say was this: “he believes it is my fault for him staying away from me.  For him to even want to come back, he will have to have realized his own role and that I am not so bad that he needs to stay away.  If he could come to me with that attitude, if he accepted his share of the responsibility for who I am as well as what happened to Leslie, if he could feel deeply sorry for his hurtful actions, if he could fully accept me as I am and still want me in his life unconditionally, then yes, I believe I could forgive him.”

So, wow!  If I could forgive my father, then certainly my sister could forgive me!  So let’s go down the list of forgiveness criteria I outlined for my dad and see if I meet them for myself:

(1)  Accepts responsibility for role: yes, I completely accept responsibility for hurting Leslie as a child.  We made light of it as adults, but I know I expressed to her my responsibility for probably all of our big fights.  I admitted to taking out all my upset on her and I admitted that she seldom if ever attacked me except in defense.  I believe she knew that.

(2)  Feels deeply sorry; oh God, yes!  I am so, so sorry for all the pain I caused her. I did spend some time in her life trying to make up for it.  But, I believe she must know by now how I so regret it.

(3)  Be fully accepting of me for who I am: I know for sure that Leslie knew I accepted and loved her for her.  I made the effort to never judge but always be on her side and supportive and encouraging.  I got excited with her at each victory and opening door in her life.  I called her my hero.

(4)  Want me in his life, unconditionally: Yay!  That’s an easy one.  I needed Leslie in my life.  I called her every week.  We both made the effort to spend time together and try to stay current on all the adventures in our lives.  Of course, except for my moving out to California and the occasional celebrity sighting, most of the excitement came from Leslie’s adventures in pursuing her dreams.

In the face of all these criteria, it appears that, yes, it is quite reasonable to believe deeply in my heart that Leslie forgives me.  So, to continue blaming myself would be against her wishes.  I do believe that she would want me to go on and be happy and do great things.  With the help of my coach, I realized I could honor her by carrying on her legacy of giving and selflessness and the pursuit of my own dreams.  This, dear sister, is what I commit to do in loving and grateful remembrance of you.

And, my mother’s forgiveness?  Thankfully, while I was crying after finishing writing my commitments to Leslie, the answer was right in front of me.  If I succeed in being the mother I need to be for my sister, I know I could never blame or be unable to forgive my children for anything.  And, more over, I would want so desperately for them to be happy and fulfilled in their lives.  I know that underneath my mother’s illness, she was exactly this type of mom.  She had proven over and over, when she could, that she would sacrifice anything to give us the opportunities we needed to have this same kind of life.  I know now that my mother, too, forgives me and would like nothing better than to see me living a full life – with a loving husband, a good strong family, and enough resources so that I never have to go without again.  Thank you, mom, I know you did the best you could.  And, I commit to you to always be free in spreading around all my love, affection, and appreciation to all the people and little creatures I hold dear.  I love you.

And, now, I march ever more strongly back into battle with my monster.  I now have the love and support of my family behind me, and in honor of them, I will succeed.

My Crazy Family

I’m sitting in bed watching the news on the tsunami disaster.  From the warm comfort of my home, with my dog at my feet, I watch the parents desperately, hopelessly, but relentlessly searching for their children.  I watch the children, so traumatized they’ll be emotionally scarred for the rest of their lives, just sitting, watching, waiting for someone to come take them home, back to their normal lives.  Of course, we know the chances are slim that any of their family is even still alive.

And, here I am all caught up in my little eating disorder.  How selfish can I be?  I just need to remind myself that I, too, had trauma.  Certainly nothing like this, but devastating just the same.  And, I found a way to cope so that I could go on and function relatively normally.  The beautiful thing is that I no longer need it to survive.  I made it through the trauma; I’m on my own feet, and I’m doing ok.

But, I remember when I was very much not ok, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about it . . .

As a child, I was very poor.  Or, I should say that my mom was very poor.  My father had plenty of money.  He just didn’t want to share it – not so much with his 2 kids, but definitely not with his ex-wife.  He to this day thinks that he was always motivated by his desire to get the kids away from the crazy, alcoholic woman to whom the courts gave custody.  Yeah, my mom had trouble with alcohol prior to the divorce, but I swear it was a coping mechanism to deal with their abusive relationship, or more probably, it was a way to punish my father for hurting her.  All of us are very accomplished at the passive aggressive game.  So, my dad played games with the money, and he played games with his kids.  I had no intention of ever leaving my mom alone while he had a new wife and step-daughter.  So, I took all his anger toward my mom very personally. I really don’t understand how he didn’t realize that Leslie and I couldn’t possibly interpret it any other way.

And, so, I began my double life – the real me, living with my mom, going to school, playing sports, hanging out with friends, fighting with my sister.  And the me that my father knew on weekends and vacations – quiet, distant, trying so hard to be perfectly polite and nice and attentive, the perfect daughter.  The me that my step-mother laughingly called “space-cadet,” never realizing that I was actually dissociating, trying to escape the stressful, erratic environment they created.  All I wanted from him was the validation that I was valued and important enough for him to want to send the child support on time.  After the divorce, my mother pretty quickly gave up drinking, but she had a hell of a time getting or keeping a job to support us.  So, my father’s money was extremely critical.  At least until my sister and I started working in anyway we could, we were almost completely dependent on his good graces.  I thought that if I could be really good, he would want us taken care of, regardless of whether we were living with him or her.   When he started playing games with the money and my mom would have to get the courts involved, I felt personally responsible.

My mother began her slow descent into the throes of manic-depression and withdrawal from the world. She started out strong.  She went back to school to learn computer programming and enlisted her father to take care of us.  But, she couldn’t keep it up.  Throughout my childhood, I mostly remember her sitting at the kitchen table, chain-smoking and drinking instant coffee, staring off into the distance.  She eventually would be crippled with agoraphobia (fear of leaving the house) and emphasema.  She would become completely non-functional.  I would beg her to put gas in the car, but she had no money so she wouldn’t.  The car would run out of gas on a highway at night in a snowstorm.  I would beg her to pay the electric bill or the phone bill, but she had no money, so she couldn’t.  Both the lights and the phone would get turned off.  I begged her to please quit smoking because I’m asthmatic and it makes me very sick.  She said she couldn’t, so she didn’t.

As you can see, I learned from both parents that I wasn’t worth money or effort or a stable, healthy home.  I also have grown to know that needing someone puts me in a very compromised position, and I probably won’t get what I need anyway.

But, my mom did have one powerful legacy that I am eternally grateful for: she was very giving, affectionate and loving when I really needed it.  I was sick a lot as a child; I had pneumonia five times before I was 13.  Of course, that probably had a lot to do with my allergies and asthma and her smoking like a chimney, but I digress.  She would always be there to pick me up from school and tuck me into bed at home.  She would sit for hours just playing with my hair or lightly tickling my arms and hands.  I still do that to calm myself down when I’m upset or sick.  And, although we had no money, she desperately wanted us to experience everything we possibly could.  She went to the school board repeatedly to get assistance in sending us to sixth grade camp or other field trips.  She sacrificed personally over and over again.  She made sure we that we participated in any sport or learned any musical instrument we wanted.  She even somehow got us into ski club in 7th and 8th grade because she had loved skiing so much I her own youth. She died when I was only 22, and she didn’t have a full tooth left in her head.

And, it was her advice that gave me the drive to succeed academically and to have a career so that I would never have to live in poverty again.  She said that if I do really well in school, I could get into an Ivy League university, which will have enough money to pay for me to go.  She gave me my first dream and the key to helping myself to a better life.  I took her advice.  I worked really hard and focused on becoming ‘well-rounded’ to look good on college applications.  I applied and was admitted early decision to Cornell University.  My mom was right.  Once I got in, they made it all happen financially; I got almost a full ride.  Of course I had to work, but I graduated after 4 years with only $3,500 in debt.  And, I still had a $1000 left over from that at graduation to tide me over until I got a job.  Unfortunately, after graduation, I had to go home because my mom was in the hospital and would only live two more months.