I never really HIT puberty, I slide into puberty. I wasn’t interested in boys at all really until my first boyfriend. Sex was supposed to be dirty and dangerous, at least that was the way I was taught. Well, that was one version of what I was taught. Simultaneously I was taught that women aren’t as valuable as men, women are lesser creatures than men, and the only way a woman can be happy and fulfilled is by a male partner.

It wasn’t that my mom or dad or anybody got in my face and told me I was worth less because I was a woman it was a subtle tone, looks, and how males/females were treated. I think that’s what makes emotional/mental/psychological abuse so harmful- because you can’t point to a bruise a say “this is where she hit me”. It’s nothing that we can prove. Even if the aim is to cause malice it’s hard to convince a jury or your peers that when she said, “You’re REALLY pretty!” she meant it as an insult. ‘What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with being complimented?’ There’s no way to convince someone of the cold, hateful glare, the sneering lips or the tone that clearly meant the opposite. Victims of this type of abuse walk away wondering if they are crazy, if they were imagining things, if they were being too sensitive. We end up making excuses for our attackers. And because we are never believed we never develop the confidence to stand up for ourselves.

It always takes me forever to try a new drug.

I'm afraid of the questions. And I'm convinced they think I'm some crazy addict. Even though that's nuts. I've probably only has had maybe a dozen prescriptions in my life and nearly all of those were just anti-biotics.

I tried Zoloft a few years back when I was having a really bad spell. It made me nauseous and dizzy for the first two weeks, but nothing major. After that I felt a little better, but then I just felt like I always feel. I maxed out my dosage at 200 mg but it didn't help. l meant to wean myself off, but I kept forgetting and I just stopped taking them. Nothing happened. Me on 200 mg of Zoloft was the same as me on 0.

So now I got a new doctor who prescribed me Citolopram (Celexa) 10 mg. No nausea or dizziness just a little tired and more vivid dreams. Citolopram is an SSRI which is what Sertraline (Zoloft) is and it's considered less effective than Zoloft.

All I'm hoping for is a mild placebo effect to last me until my first counselor appointment.

*warning may trigger those with eating disorders*

I think I mentioned in previous blogs that my mom struggled with anorexia as a child. I don’t know if she was ever heavier than her classmates or if they just decided to call her fat. I’ve looked at a lot of pictures of her growing up and she was never even a little chubby. At the most she was average. She told me that back then being considered fat was different than today’s standards. My thoughts are that she felt unattractive because her father didn’t want to be in her life plus her mother wouldn’t buy her expensive clothing. Then some mean-spirited girl saw how pretty she was and that she was really good at drawing, got jealous, and got a bunch of kids to tease mom until she developed an eating disorder. That’s my theory anyway.

After community college ended for the semester there was a week from hell with my mother. It ended with me saying I was leaving to stay with my boyfriend and she let me walk out with not a word of protest. During less than a 7-day period she cornered me and accused me of: being a witch, being a lesbian, and being bulimic. And it wasn’t the first time she accused me of any those, none being true.

The first time I remember her calling me bulimic was after I went to the bathroom. I was down in the basement and as I was going upstairs she came over and asked me, “Were you throwing up in there?” I said I hadn’t been and wondered why she thought that. She told me my eyes were red. I immediately went upstairs and looked- my eyes were normal. I hadn’t been throwing up. Why was she saying these things to me?

When I went for my BS I did start binging and purging. I couldn’t resist all that good college dorm food, and if mom was worried I might start then there must be results to be had.

I have bulimia today. I consider it mild, but upon research I have a pretty standard case. Sometimes I won’t B/P for a couple months, and sometimes I’ll do it up to 3 times a week. I notice I’ll do it almost always after some sort of social gathering. It could be just one other person or a whole group of people, and it doesn’t matter how it went good/bad I usually B/P after.

For the most part I think I control it well enough that I’m not at risk of an extreme health crisis. My back teeth are getting the worse of it; I’ll prob need my first crown in the next 3 years. I also had a problem swallowing food so I had an upper GI done. They only had to stretch my esophagus a little and didn’t notice any other damage. But even though I’ve been lucky I know I need to find a way to stop completely. Probably not for a while though. Nice Lady brought me cheesecake for passing my certification test. Tonight I will most likely B/P.

My weight will always be an issue for me. Even though I’m not fat I’m still about 175 lbs. Most people think I’m lighter because I am athletic, but ideally I want to be 140-150 lbs. I don’t want to be thin like my mom I just want to wear maybe a size 4-6. To me it’s really not the number on the scale it’s the clothing I wear. I’d like to go back to WW I think I’ve joined and quit 4-5 times now. The lowest I ever got was 149. However my AvPD/SAD have made it really hard to even consider going back.

End Part 6: Last Part

*warning may trigger those with eating disorders*

If you need any further convincing as to how obsessed my mom is about weight go ask my mom how many times she weighs herself. “Oh. Well I weigh myself once first thing every morning and then once at night. I’ve been weighing myself this way for over 3 years now and I record all my results and turn them into a chart. It’s simply incredible to see how one’s weight fluctuates not just week by week, but season by season. Do you know I’m within 2 pounds of my weight as I was this time the last 3 years! Isn’t that amazing! I was so concerned when I gained five pounds last month, but I finally got them off. Sinatra’s been snacking all week and he asks me why he’s gaining!-HEY! What are you eating? Did you record that? You need to write it down. Not later, you’ll forget. Now!” And on and on and on.

My mom is borderline anorexically-thin. I don’t even like hugging her because it’s like hugging a pile of bones. She is healthy (eats balanced meals, doesn’t smoke, exercises regularly) and she just likes being really thin; I can’t hate on her for being what makes her happy. What I hate is watching her turn that madness on others. Whenever I see Sinatra I’m torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. ‘You thought I was the problem because she targeted me, but now that I’m gone the crazy is still there and it just found a new punching bag.’

I was starting community college when Sinatra decided he would join Weight Watchers. This surprised me because I didn’t think he had enough weight to lose. I thought about it as I was getting ready for classes. As I was changing I felt something and when I looked I realized it was the fat on my back rolling over on itself- I had back-boobs. I agreed to join WW with Sinatra. I was 218 lbs at 5’ 7”. I listened to the gospel of WW and pledged to do whatever they told me. My first week I lost 4 lbs, I couldn’t believe it. I asked the lady if the scales could be off and she told me they calibrate them for every meeting. Well I was hooked, and since it was just Sinatra and me, without Mom I was able to relax and have fun. Sinatra and I even bonded and became pretty good friends for a while there. I think I was 173 lbs. when I quit the first time and it only took me 5-6 months. Amazing how direction, support, and positive reinforcement can get the job done.

End Part 5

*warning my trigger those with eating disorders*

Mom continued to vacillate on how she approached my weight problem. Frequently she would just run in out of nowhere and start screaming at me. I developed a permanent guilty conscience because no matter what her mood was when she entered I associated her with me being blamed for doing something wrong. Then there were times that she’d be completely cool with me eating whatever. The idea being that if she acted like it wasn’t a big deal I would stop over-eating- perfect strategy except it works better if you stick with it more than two days. She’d yell herself into tears about my weight and then pray with me that God’s holy light would come through me and give me strength. “IF I COULD LOSE WEIGHT FOR YOU I WOULD!!” one of her chart-topping singles. So many nights I went to sleep with a wet pillow because I was praying so desperately to be thin.

She always started off with good ideas and intentions, but never followed through. She never wanted to stick it out and do the hard work. She had me go to a therapist 5-6 times for weight loss, she hired a personal trainer I saw twice, she’d make me watch/listen to horrible stories about fat people too big to leave their houses, she got me SlimFast, she took me to an herbalist, bought me workout videos, she had the great idea to have me weighed at the doctor every week (I went 3 times).

It really amazes me the amount of thought, effort, and energy she put into my appearance. If she had just put the effort toward my mental health my weight would probably have normalized on its own. But admitting there was a problem with my brain would be putting the blame on Mom. She’d see a diagnosis on my mental health as a comment on her as a mother. Not to mention that it would raise questions about her mental health.

I’m sure if you asked my mom why she was so obsessed with my weight she’d say because it was so painful to watch how unhappy I was with myself. Every time she looked at me I’d be scowling at myself, wearing baggy clothing, and just being miserable. That’s true. I was very difficult to deal with, but you can’t raise a kid putting ideas into their heads about being too fat and just expect them to grow up perfectly ‘okie-dokie’. I’m not deliberately making excuses for myself, my behavior was something I wanted to control, and was told I needed to control it, but I just couldn’t do it on my own.

End Part 4