When I was at my most ill - right before I admitted myself to the hospital to try to recover from anorexia - my mother said, “why? You look great.” And sure, I cleaned up okay and thanks to the way some designers want kids to look just like little adults the clothing I bought from a children’s retailer didn’t exactly scream 10 year old boy even though it was designed for one, but the point is that, well, that’s how my family views things.
Once I was out of the hospital and started gaining weight, my mother ordered me a magazine focused on preparing healthy, low fat, low calorie foods because she “didn’t want me to go too far in the other direction.” So I always find that spending time with my family brings a lot more stress to my life than I really want for it to.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only one in my family with addiction issues. My mother can’t make it through a day without a glass of wine (or two or three). My father who has a rapidly progressing type of arthritis is not only dependent on all of the narcotic painkillers that he takes for the condition, but also drinks at least two or three beers a day (the last time that I was home, he had only a few cans of a six pack left under the driver’s seat of his car - full - and a couple of empty cans in the back).
I myself sometimes drink a little too much. I did at a wedding we attended the weekend after Thanksgiving and ended up really absolutely stupid drunk. I drank too much last Friday at my partner’s company Christmas party and ended up telling the head of the program and the HR director that I was desperate to get out of the area - so much for her keeping it on the down-low. The question “are you sure this isn’t out of control” has been asked more than a few time.
So where am I going with this? Well, tomorrow we’re heading to my family’s home for the whole holiday thing. My parents don’t eat regularly, so that always throws me off a little bit. My family drinks a lot and, well, I’m more prone to that than I would like to be.
Recovery means a lot of different things to different people. Me, well, I see it as a process - as something that doesn’t just happen. While I don’t obsess over when my next meal is going to be and how many calories it will have, I do think about it, at least a few times a week. While I don’t spend my time thinking about when I’ll have my next drink, well, I’m not likely to turn one down if it’s offered.
I’m having trouble getting my thoughts out right now and it’s making me a little crazy.
My family pushes all of my buttons - and they are exceptionally good at it as they should be since they installed them. For me, a part of recovery - and continuing to recover - is trying to learn how to not let it get to me. It’s harder than I want it to be. For me, part of recovery also has a lot to do with something even simpler, going even though it’s hard for me - and then trying to come to some sort of understanding of why it’s so hard.
Sometimes I look at the way that I’ve been living my life and all that I see are the things that I haven’t done. I haven’t worked through all of the emotional warfare that my family is all but famous for. I haven’t been acknowledging how I feel - not fully at least - and I’m afraid that it might come back to bite me in the ass (and not gently). I haven’t processed my grandfather’s passing or the fact that someone I love very much lost her battle with lung cancer this year.
I guess part of what I’m struggling with today is the knowledge that my dad’s dad is dying and has been given a limited amount of time. I’m not sure that I’m ready to face that. Actually, no, I know I’m not ready to face that, I’m not even ready to talk about it.
Tags: alcohol, anorexia, eating disorder recover, family
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