I AM HERE

Epiphany #3:  I AM HERE… as in, ALL OF ME is still frikkin here.

If I hid parts of me from you, it was an unconscious, automatic reaction to clues (real or imagined) as that is what I do when I pick up on vibes of disapproval. If I think you find an aspect of me unacceptable, then I will simply hide that part of me from you.

It is easy to do… childhood conditioning.

I was raised in an era when children were seen and not heard, when little girls were supposed to be passive, weak, adorable, meek, soft spoken little ladies, and oh so very nice… stand still and look pretty.

Double down if you live in a glass house called a parsonage.

I was one of five little “angels” with impeccable manners, pretending to be what I’m not… feeling more like a fraud with each passing year. And, of course, little girls are not supposed to even FEEL negative or “inappropriate” emotions, so there was no outlet if you do, not allowed to express them. Best not tell anyone if something bad happens… your own fault anyway, something fundamentally wrong with you.

It took years and some therapy to love and accept myself as I am… now I am trying to be consciously aware to override that auto-response to clues (real or imagined) so I can stop hiding aspects of myself from those who love me.

Please know that I don’t do it out of shame or guilt or even to make myself more acceptable to other people. I do it for self-preservation, to guard my precious me… I am my own treasure.

I guard my me because I have always felt like people want to change me, or make me change myself, just so I would be more acceptable to them and/or fit their own impression of who they thought I should be.

Fixing me is not your project.

I am not going to change who I am to please anyone. The only one I have to answer to, besides my own self, is God.  The approval or acceptance from other people is not necessary. I hide my true authentic self from people who may find me inappropriate just so I don’t have to deal with their bull. Who I am is none of their business. They don’t need to know all of me.

WHY would I hid parts of myself from the ONLY person who has ever noticed that I do that? The only man who has accepted, and encouraged me to be my true authentic self as I am?

Clues babe… that automatic response kicks in, it’s unconscious… wasn’t done on purpose.

What clues?  Well, here’s an example… when I briefly mentioned what I was writing a book about, he pretty much told me that my topic wasn’t very nice, that I shouldn’t write something like that. So, I just never mentioned it to him again… it became none of his business… he doesn’t need to know anything about it. Eventually, I took ALL my writing underground, essentially closing off an aspect of myself as writing is vital to my existence.

Oh yes babe, I still write. I write a LOT… even got phone apps for that, so I can write anywhere at any time and email it to myself. That’s what I did in the wee hours of the night, when pain pulled me from slumber, and I got up so my moans and thrashing would not disturb your sleep. You bitched too much about me being on the computer so I alternated with using phone apps at the kitchen table, writing to take my mind off pain while waiting for pills to kick in.

Another example? When I try to talk to someone about things that are important to me and they cut me off with “why bring that up again” or some other offhand remark, I just shut up and stash that topic off as something I cannot openly discuss with them.  After that happens a few times, I stop trying.

Suppose it doesn’t matter anyway… but we are supposedly just taking a break so I can work on myself while you are out doing what you do.  That’s Epiphany #4:  I don’t really know you.

 

RC #3

It’s #3 as I think it is the third time to write about doing a reality check, nice to have some kind of consistancy to title posts.

Losing a couple pounds this week eased my pain levels, so I eased up on dieting. I don’t like being hungry. Dieting is too much of a binge trigger without that ache to keep me in line.

Reality checks may be stepping on the scales as numbers can reveal things I don’t want to admit even to myself, but it is also in the jeans… black jeans purchased in 2004 before hopping a jet to visit a friend for the holidays, the same jeans boxed for years because they were too small to wear now fit loose in the legs. Even new capris purchased for this summer fit too loose. That drives me nuts! I can’t stand wearing baggy pants.

Most of all, reality is the slow process of recovery from binge eating disorder. And what is recovery?

Recovery is time passing, moments gathered into days fading into weeks. Months have passed.

Recovery is knowing recovery is possible. Someday, living with B.E.D. will be a thing of the past.

Recovery is awareness that bingeing is a negative reaction, an attempt to repress “unacceptable” raw emotions, and finding other ways to cope. It is “okay” to feel things, to express emotions, but it is “not okay” to harm yourself or others. Art is a blessing as it allows me to express anything without fear.

Recovery is eating intuitively, trusting myself to feed myself without fear of going beserk.

Recovery is the ability to enjoy the flavors, aromas, and textures of food without one iota of guilt.

Recovery is shedding layers of insecurities in all aspects of my life. (That one surprises me.)

Be glad my SD card died… my treat for good behavior this week was a pedicure. The photo snapped was like wow, scary old lady feet with toenails fancy painted black with white floral stickers, clear rhinestones, and silver glitter.

Hey, it is okay to be your own outrageous self. Truth be told, no one else really cares.