My father

Hi All

Things have been hard especially with my father being the grade one arsehole he knows how to be, my father thinks he is blameless for my anxiety, my stress, my unhappiness but he is so often the emotional trigger in my life I wish I could cut out.


I hate my dad, he's a selfish, arrogant, prick and unfortunately for me I share DNA with him.

I heard that he was taking 10 days holiday for Christmas and this filled me with dread, him at home day in day out criticising, making snarky comments, running my mother ragged as she makes more excuses for his laziness. His presence makes my anxiety shoot through the roof, I felt my heart beating fast and wishing I could be away from him. His energy is so negative, I feel dragged down by his hate and self righteousness. Being the product of a very dysfunctional relationship isn't easy, as I grew up I observed and noted from a very young age that He is the taker, whilst my mother is the giver in the relationship, he sucks everything out of her until she is completely dry and she lets him. He pretends he is not selfish and that his intentions are good, whilst it's clear to everyone else that his only concern is for himself. He's not in love with my mum, he's just in love with being waited on hand food and finger, whilst living as though he is a bachelor. He seems to get the best of both worlds, swanning off whenever he wants from his family to do what he genuinely wants to do whilst coming home whenever he likes to enjoy the stability of a family life, where unfortunately my mother caters to his every whim.

In some respect I suppose she is partly to blame, my mother that is. She has allowed this man and his faults to dominate her life and her children's for years. My father is a chauvinistic pig, who thinks whatever he does goes beneath the radar, sadly for him his behaviour became transparent to me at a very young age. I don't have a relationship with my dad like most young women would do, I can't stand my dad. He is emotionally inept, self involved, and uncompromising. The idea of my dad doing all the mile stones with me fills me with horror. I would never want him to walk me down the isle, if I were to ever to get married, I wouldn't want him if I had any children (which I think is highly unlikely) to be massively involved in their lives, I see him as toxic he always utilises me as his kicking post, finding blame anywhere he can to be assigned to me. I feel uncomfortable in my own home when he is present. I desperately wish my mother would put him in his place, let him know she knows his behaviour is unacceptable and that this complete disrespect he has shown towards her and his children will not be tolerated. I deeply resent him for the dynamics that he has created within our home and I desperately wish my mother would act as though she had a spine. It's so odd that In all other aspects of her life she has no issue with holding back, ever but when it comes to him he becomes a fragile precious little darling to be catered to. Rather than the Middle aged, mummy's boy that he has always been.

As a child I use to resent his absence, always doing what he wanted to do, going to golf while my mother did everything in the house, whilst secretly resenting him but never telling him. So his behaviour went unchecked, and the relationship became even more one sided, it seemed to become a marriage of convenience rather than a marriage of love.

My father has always put his own mother first before his own family. She is a bitch, and always has been, my dad would allow her to bully me as a child, calling me names, 'fat' 'ugly' 'plain', from the 'other side of the family'. He never said a word in response to her, I was never worthy enough for him to fight for me, to stand up to his prig of a mother. The day I heard them talking saying that I was 'too fat' and had to 'have something done about it', was the day both of them became transparent to me. My Grandmother is my Grandmother in name only, she is nothing to me but a decrepid old biddy who shunned me as a child, and my father is a spineless coward who would never cross his mother. The day I heard that and he would not stand up for me was the day when I decided my father is no one to me.

I will never forget one year when it was Christmas, I was 14 years old, my father had food poisoning and was laying in bed. It was maybe 10am in the morning, he could not go in to see his mother who at this point had so many ailments she needed 24h nursing care, and was in a nursing home. My brother and I had not opened anymore presents as he beckoned my mother, my brother and I all in to the room as he barked 'you better all hurry up and go and see my mum, you need to hurry up, stop faffing about'. My mother told him that we would go soon but we weren't ready, he told her that was not good enough and we had to go that instant. I hated him. There are many point in my life where I have hated my father, and this was one of them. Our own enjoyment was irrelevant to him, the fact that I had not even had a shower didn't matter, what we wanted to do didn't count, it was all about what he wanted, how his mother was the most important and we had to forget about ourselves. We were there an hour, in the nursing home, and came back, he told us that we had not spent enough time with her. Never mind the fact that we had guests coming for Christmas dinner and we needed to be at home 'fuck them' he said, my mother's family could be let down but his precious mother had to have all the time in the world spent with her.

Both my parents favour my brother, my mother has always had more time for him, loved him more and been much softer with him than she is with me, my father makes it quite clear I hold no place with him emotionally other than with the title of his daughter. He hates I see his faults, no one is perfect don't get me wrong but it's the blatant selfishness that gets me every single time.

My mother is the one who does everything, when it come to Christmas she buys all the presents but he must put his name to it, I don't thank him anymore for any gifts and why should I? He has never helped my mother at all, he's happy to take the credit but not to open his wallet. This kind of selfishness kills me, he will let my mum pay for everything and if she didn't offer to pay he never would. He feels no remorse, no guilt for the weedy man he has become.

He is emotionally abusive, he has called me names and used my illness as an excuse to suggest my recollection of things are untrustworthy. I hate this. Eating disordered I am, but demented I am not.

I needed to write about this to release some of the deep seated hurt and anger I have felt that has been bubbling away since he has been at home more.

Do you have a parent that is an emotional trigger?
If so how do you distance yourself from it?

Love and Peace

V

xxx

A better day

Hi All

Bad day over yesterday thank god and today is slightly better. I haven't been able to break the cycle for rehydration today but I have been able to eat a little bit of breakfast, and plan for tomorrow.

I have discovered that some foods just don't work for me, I can't eat them, if I do I panic and end up excersising like crazy, feasting on laxatives or being so bloated I don't know what to do with myself.

These foods are

1) Bread
2) Pasta- NUMBER ONE MASSIVE food that never ever works for me.
3) Red meat
4) Butter
5) Cakes, biscuits etc
6) Greasy food
7) Potatoes
8) Rice
9) Mayo
10) Foods with a large surface area.

Soup works well for me but I worry about the heaviness of it in my body compared to something else so when I have soup I tend to massively restrict on liquids, to compensate for it. I love the covent Garden Mushroom soup, they rarely have it in supermarkets and I have to go to lots of different places to get it, but I love it. 81kcals of pure heaven. When I have gone through 'rehydration' and am dieting to get my weight back to where I need it to be this will be something I will be eating often.

I have to plan a brunch menu for people who are coming over for xmas brunch on Saturday. I'm doing scrambled eggs with chives, veggie and non veggie sausages, breakfast potatoes, croissants, home made blueberry muffins, German Christmas cake (don't know how to spell it schtolen?), breakfast potatoes with rosemary and garlic, smoked salmon, fresh fruit salad, granola parfait, I hope it's good. I love doing stuff for other people like this, even though I doubt i'll eat any of it, maybe a little fresh fruit.

I can't believe it's a little under a week until xmas! Where has the time gone?

Anyways, just my ramblings for today.

#feeling calmer.

peace, love and hope.
xxxx
V

Feeling deflated, angry and unsure

Dear all

So it's been a month since I have been blogging, I feel like I have been in hibernation, sorry about that. I have been crazy busy with my essay submissions for uni which are now all handed in thank god.

So I guess what I have to own up to is that I haven't managed to go through rehydration yet like I was suppose to. I'm too scared, though things aren't exactly working out well as they are at the moment.

As you know I had been ill and had lost "water" weight from that, I know this logically but emotionally accepting that the water needs to be put back is another story. I have put on 1kg in a day! I am furious, I was so angry in fact that I through a vase that I have always hated on the floor and watched it smash.

I'm so angry, i'm angry at my body that this putrid, vile destestible piece of shit could betray me like this, i'm suppose to be stepping away from the scales in order to go through rehydration but I can't. The scales tell me whether i'm happy or miserable for the day, whether I can eat, need to fast, take laxatives, need to spend my day exercising or whether it's so depressing I need to stay in bed and sleep the day away etc. I don't want to get out of bed when the scales have gone up. And now the xmas season is upon us and I have all these parties to go to.

Problem for Victoria and Anorexia is that I can't face going through 'rehydration' and having to attend to all these parties feeling like the fucking elephant in the room. People know me and going through rehydration is too difficult to explain to people. "Hi Yes, I have put on weight, but no it's not from food but water and please don't think this means i'm happy and doing well with food- i'm not'. Definitely not a great conversation starter. So i'm going to have to put on this brave face and do that smile everyone does when they don't want to talk about It but have to pretend like they are happy. If I hear any more comments about how 'well' I look and 'congratulations' for going into treatment last year, then I will scream. All these fucking people haven't got a clue how hard it is for me, how I didn't want it, how I don't want it and how that the process of rehydration is nothing more than a way for me to regain control, stop using behaviours I hate and lose the weight to where I am happy, comfortable and not suicidal.

I have gone through rehydration before, but every time it's through an infusion, but I don't need the infusion currently because i'm taking pills to make sure my electrolytes stay in range, I wasn't doing that before but I have learnt my lesson.

My fear is that i'll gain huge amounts and not stabilise. I know this isn't possible logically, no human just keeps on going and going. But emotionally I feel like an insect being tortured with a huge magnifying glass burning away at my soul. I can't bear to look at me, I can barely tolerate my body as it is today, how the hell am I going to get through 4-6lbs of water weight gain?

I comfort myself for today with the massive packet of laxatives I have taken, your suppose to take one pill, but I've taken 8 and i'll take more later. I'm cross and want a good starting point, for rehydration. I'm thinking maybe I can help myself by fasting for the next couple of days and losing actual weight, that way the rehydration amount won't seem so bad. The problem for me is that when I get to a weight I feel okay at, I get attatched and gaining water, fat, muscle, weight, whatever it maybe becomes so unbearable.

What they did to me in treatment is abuse, I know that, they violated me and I will never let that go, but I feel by going through rehydration i'm mimicking what they did to me in treatment, only it would be temporary. The problem for me is I don't know if I have the fight in me to stay the course of 10-14 days to stabilise my water rehydration without panicking way too much and packing it in.

I know logically I must be dehydrated, I ate 200 kcal on one day and didn't lose a bean the next day. Imagine what would happen to me if I ate 1000 or 800. 1000 is way to high and completely unreaslistic I think, for one i'd never be able to get it down and 2 i'd be in agony, my stomach aches when I eat.

I just wish I had never been forced into treatment and this nightmare would have not been so great, I would either have died and been at peace or been happy in my disorder, now i'm in limbo and the mountain seems to great to climb.

Looking for strength and peace of mind, and a shit load of weight loss by tomorrow.

Hoping to hear from someone, my heart is aching.

Until my angry blog tomorrow

V
xxx