There’s a lot of candy in the house now. And guess who’s keeping busy eating it? Me, myself, and I. For the past week my diet has consisted mainly of fun-sized Crunch bars and peanut butter M&M’s. Which, evidently, has triggered me to bits, and so my eating disordered thoughts have blossomed yet again.
Speaking of which, I hadn’t weighed myself since September, when I supposedly decided to “get better”. That changed last Wednesday, when I was flossing in the bathroom and the dental floss fell from my hands and unfortunately fell on top of the scale. The scale, being of the digital type that you turn on with a tap, turned on. Oh, that damned little blue screen. It instantly activated some sort of freakish anxiety circuit in my brain, and I started having a rush of thoughts along the lines of Weigh yourself, You haven’t weighed yourself in a month, You’re probably the size of a fucking cow, You NEED to know how much you weigh. It was only then that I realized I’m only good at ignoring the scale in the bathroom as long as it’s turned off. Somehow, I was able to calm myself a bit and decided I would not weigh myself at that moment, but would allow myself to do it the next day if in the morning I was still anxious about it.
And I was. So I weighed myself the next morning. Surprisingly enough, I haven’t gained any weight since September. But then all the candy I’ve been eating is still triggering me, so I need to do something about this. And it’s probably going to be an irrational/eating-disorder-influenced decision. *Sigh* I know, I know, I should care about my health and about “getting better”, but really all I want right now is to self-destruct and disappear into an eternal state of nothingness. Fat fat fat fat fat fat disgusting ball of fat.
I believe this holiday season is going to be extremely challenging for me in terms of food. Yay….(in case you missed it, that was reeking with sarcasm).
I’ve also been struggling a lot these last few days with thoughts about feeling inferior to my medical school peers. I’m set to begin in December with my pediatrics rotation and I’m scared as hell of going back. I’m just scared of not being able to manage it this second time around. But I believe in myself (just not right now).
There’s also these other thoughts in my head that are seriously bugging me. I’ve mentioned it here before, how sometimes I doubt whether I might have been molested or something of that nature, but simply don’t remember. Other times I just think the relationshiT resulted in me having a PTSD-like reaction, which is why I have some thoughts and behaviors of people who were actually abused in their past (G suggested this in our last session). I just, don’t know. There’s just too many strange thoughts and behaviors. Sometimes it bugs me, sometimes I don’t even think about it. Right now it’s bugging me.
For example, the other day my dad came over to my room to talk, and I told him to sit in my bed next to me. As he was doing so, I took a blanket and put it over my thighs because I didn’t want him to stroke me, or pat me, or touch me in any way. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. But why? Why why why? He’s never done anything to me, and I love him dearly. Why then do I have reactions and thoughts like that? It makes no fucking sense.
And now that I’m on the topic of my dad, I must say, he and my mom had an argument today and it left me feeling pretty angry at my mom. According to him, they argued because she doesn’t want him to be hospitalized for surgery around Thanksgiving. She said it because she obviously doesn’t want to miss out on the family gathering and whatnot. Which, to me, is absolutely ridiculous and selfish because my dad’s health is way more important than that. But, yeah, my mom’s like that. Petty arguments are one of her defense mechanisms when she can’t deal with her emotions (in other words: always).
So I took a few minutes to talk to him and let him know my opinion. I told him his health is way more important than that, and to try to avoid that date but that if it is absolutely necessary then so be it. Also told him that if my mom gets all difficult and unsupportive, that I’m here and I can help him with his surgery/hospitalization.
But he’s probably not going to listen. I know him. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m probably not.
My dad’s health situation is really putting a strain on the family. It’s like all the interpersonal problems and challenges are boiling over because of it. I’m trying to manage things, and to stay supportive, but I know I’m not trying my best. Which is why I feel like such a shit daughter (more than what is normal).
Which is why I’m eating a shitload of candy in the fist place. Because it’s readily accessible in the kitchen. And because I feel stressed and triggered.
My family is too fucking complicated. And I fear getting fat because of it.