So much to tell, huh?
The lunch out with my family went very well. I ordered what I wanted and enjoyed the company of my family. There was the awkward 5 minutes of everyone gushing about how well I was doing and how they never thought I'd get better and how proud they were. Fortunately that bit of conversation commenced after we had all finished eating. It was a good time, and I am really glad I got to put so many of my family member's minds at ease.
Christmas also went far better than I could have ever expected. I even ate some of stuffing and cranberry sauce. I'll be honest - even though I do eat the occasional chicken and fish now, seeing the turkey being carved really freaked me out for some reason and I just couldn't eat after that. I went for the veggie tenders my mom bought me "just in case". I got a few things that I wanted and needed and I didn't even hate myself for not really deserving any of it. My mom adores the necklace I made her (yay!!! This makes me so happy!) and my brother loved the new wallet and the Star Wars trilogy. I also went to the movies with a friend from work later that night. All in all, Christmas was a very good day.
My father didn't spend the day with us as I had thought he would. He spent the day on the sofa watching TV. This happens every year, but it affected me a lot less. In the past, I would blame myself for his lack of wanting to spend time with the rest of the family. I always told myself it was because I was an irritation, that it was because I was anorexic and therefore intolerable. But I have realized now that its his issue, not mine. He used to say horrible, cruel things to me that my eating disorder would feed on and use for encouragement to stay ill. He used to infuriate me with the things he said - "if I can stop drinking, you can start eating" (um yeah Pops, it took you 20 years to do that) "All you want is your eating disorder, its the only thing you care about." or even worse - "You are going to kill your mother and yourself with this nonsense." It took me a lot of time and a lot of talking with my therapist to realize that the things he said in anger really stemmed from his fear of losing me. But its true - anger is almost always a cover for another emotion. And usually anger is a protective mechanism to prevent the real, more vulnerable feelings from being seen. Once I really accepted that as a fact, it got much easier to deal with my father. Or at least, accept him as he was and not let his issues have a negative impact on what I needed to do for myself.
Once I got over the hurdle of my father, nothing else seems all that hard to cope with. I've fallen on my ass a dozen or more times. Just today, I got stuck in the parking lot at Stop n Shop because my car decided to take a nap. And yes, I do mean nap. It failed to start the three times I tried before calling AAA. The man showed up an hour later, put the keys in the ignition and BAM. My baby was running just fine. How's that for irritating, eh? All in all, I think that for every bit of hell we are forced to endure, we come out that much greater in the end and are that much more appreciative of the lives we lead. I know for me, I was thinking about all the things my ED has cost me over the years. But if I hadn't lost those things, I would never have what I have now. And I love what (and who!) I've got in my life right now. To be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Why Can I Only Love the Broken?
3 months ago