Flicker of Light

I was greeted by a frowny faced mom last night who needed a hug. The shower in her bathroom has leaked to the point of a squishy carpet in the corner of her room. I didn't think too much about the situation, only cuddling up in my bed for a goodnight's sleep. I didn't realize the effect the situation would have on me until it was the middle of the night and I was trying to wash my hands after going to the bathroom. Not even a drip.

The water in our house is turned off, so preceding and following showers and flushing the lever controlling the water to the house must be turned up and down. As exciting as this all sounds, it gets better. When my mom got home she informed me that she is getting a whole new bathroom, which means that construction will be happening in our home for the next month. I'm sure you are well aware of how uncomfortable it is to have strange construction people coming in and out of your home. Especially, when it is in either the bathroom or the kitchen. 

Furthermore, since my mom's bathroom is being renovated she will be using my restroom. Which means, I'm going to have to be a little more conscious of the vomming that goes on in there. I go through so much toilet paper cleaning up after each spew. A MONTH. 

I suppose this is as good a time as any to stop the nom&voms. I really need to get my shit together. Yesterday there was a spark. Something to look forward to. My study buddy for one of my classes is applying to a summer camp in Italy. I WANT TO DO IT! I haven't had the opportunity to really look into yet (she only told me y'day, gimme a break!), from what she tells me we would be speaking English to the kids and there is an option to stay in an apartment or with an Italian family (I'd choose the family). The camp is during the week and on the weekends I'd be free to Rome. 

Wine tasting and Italians? Yes Please. In fact, I'll take a double.

This is the first thing I have looked forward to in so long. I can't even remember the last time I felt actual excitement of anything.

I want this. I will have this.

First things first. Gotta kick the bulimia. 

Also:  Must. Get. Skinny.

Oh yeah, and I need a job and find out what I need to get done to apply for this. I might need to volunteer with *gulp* children, and get CPR certified.

Nature vs Nurture. is loneliness my nature or was I nurtured into being this way?

My mom and I had the pleasure of babysitting my niece last night. A little bundle of fun! No joke, this kid did not shed one tear from last night and on through when she was picked up after 1pm today. She's a happy little girl. I can't even be sad when she's around.

My mom laid her down to sleep between us on the couch. We'd watch her randomly not realizing we were smiling as we did. (We haven't had a baby around since....me?) 

"That was you." She said as she gazed at the baby (okay, she's like 1yr 3mth) with bubbly pink hearts gushing out her eyes like a cartoon. "And I was the same way with you." (Showering her with love and affection, and attention.)

"Hah. I wasn't nearly as cute and happy as this little baby." was my reply. I was serious, I can't imagine (1) that I was actually a happy baby, I've been miserable for so long the concept is out of my reach. And (2) and miserable little FAT baby is not cute. And I was a Fatso even as a baby. 

Mom scoffed, "Yes you were! You were just as happy and cute, and I think you even had the same little lips as her." 

"I doubt that."

"You were. And being with Bre reminds me of how it was playing with you. And when I see Sis with her, and how much she adores her, I know what she feels because that's how I felt with you."

It makes sense the things that I yearn for and have been without for so many years. I was happy and showered with love, affection, and attention. But then my mom was a single mom trying to get in all the hours at work she could to make the bills. She came home exhausted. My cousin (we'll call him Trouble) whom she had guardianship over at the time was a little hellion; he wanted to go back with his druggie Mom. Sis was a social butterfly getting into trouble that pretty little social butterflies do. And then there was me, this little needy thing always begging for attention, affection, and love.

I remember asking my mom to play and she would say she was too tired. I would draw her pictures and show her and she would say that's nice and brush me away. I would try and cuddle with her and she would say it's hot and push me away or "stop hanging on me." 

During the week I come home to an empty house, I would be in trouble if I didn't call her. If she called during the day and I didn't answer I would get in trouble. I was alone, with only the TV to keep me company. There was rarely any ready to eat food in the house, there was diet food that I was forbidden to touch (because it's expensive) but no healthy food, or at least I never knew about it. I would call my mom at work constantly asking if she was coming home yet "I'm huuuuuungry!" Even when we were together for a whole day I would get hungry way before she would.  I would be starving by the time we would eat.

I would spend the weekends at my aunts with my cousins, one would be playing softball tournaments and the other would be alternating between playing with me and being cruel just to see me crying. She was jealous because I was the baby of the family. She told me one year at christmas, "Before you were born I used to get the most presents." I just wanted my mom. On the weekends. During the week. 

When she's had a bad day she wouldn't want to pay me attention. When she would come home from work I'd never know what to expect. I guess I finally got tired of expecting a loving mom, I became the moody one. Really, it started when I was no longer allowed to go to my best friends house or be friends with her, really. She was two years older than me and "too mature," my mom didn't want me to get into boys. So instead of going to her house, I was basically on house arrest!

It was hard for me to make new friends. I was a spoiled and angry kid, of course, at the time, I didn't know this. And, the friends I did try and have, thier parents would have to do all the work of picking up and dropping off. We couldn't play at my house since nobody was ever home... I was basically a nuisance. Even soccer and softball practices and games, I would rely on other parents to pick me up and drop me off. I hated it. I wanted my mom to be like their moms... there, with me. 

When I was with her she would lecture me about behaving and blah, blah, blah.... afterwords she would say how other little girls were so good, pretty, and blah, blah, blah. I hated those girls. I wanted my mom to see me in that light. Acting out was counter productive. I tried. I was a brat, I threw tantrums, had random outbursts, and all it got me was the silent treatment and sent to the confines of my room.

I understand why she did it. She was doing the best she could. She was trying to provide for our family (work), she stressed constantly (work, bills, family, me & sis), and keep her sanity through it all (going away with her boyfriend). She was exhausted and stressed. I understand but... I can't help but feel the way I do because those were the years that I was learning and growing. Those were the years that shaped me into the person that I am today. This person that I hate, that I can't stand to look at in the mirror or in pictures.

I love my mom. Our relationship is obviously a lot different than when I was a girl. Our living situation is a lot different than when I was growing up. But those feelings of loneliness and isolation, that yearning to be loved, get attention, and have affection and NOT getting it stays with me. I'm used to that yearning. The minute I get a little more than I am used to I retreat, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to return it. 

I realized when I was diagnosed with Lupus how negative I am. I started seeing life differently. I wanted to be a positive person. I wanted to be healthy. I wanted to be enlightened.

I wanted to be happy.

I was 20 years old, I started changing through the knowledge I'd gained. My perspective was changing but the baggage of my life was still with me. My past is still with me. Including a newly formed eating disorder. I think maybe that's when I realized how rock bottom I had gotten. I smoked, I drank, I quit those and became obsessed with dieting, health, and losing weight. Then one day one slice of pizza changed it all. I couldn't deal with the guilt.

I knew, for sure, there was something terribly wrong with me that day. 

I started to seek out other perspectives. Surely, if I found out how to be happy then I would be okay. I started listening to spiritual teachers, some "kooks" but I decided I would give them a little credit. We all have our different perspectives, beliefs, and realities, why not give theirs a listen and take what I like and discard the rest. how there is negativity in the words all around me. In the teasing, the sarcasm... everything.

Then one day, some random spiritual guru was being interviewed in a radio show I was listening to and he said something along the lines of, if you are unhappy than you are on the wrong path. Like basically, you're spirit is telling you through this negative feeling within that you are not doing what you came to do on this Earth. And I started balling, I left for home in the middle of work and cried for 3 days.

I had every intention of quitting my job but I chickened out and continued on in this life... years later I am in a deep depression with suicidal thoughts. 24-25 years ago I was a happy little baby basking in love, affection, and attention; how far I've fallen.

In classes there is the constant topic of nature versus nurture. I believe "nurture" has a lot to do with my personality. Misery does not feel natural, but it does feel normal. When I'm smiling and laughing with friends that feels natural. I feel free.

Those times that I feel free and happy are 9 times out of 10 AWAY from my family. I cringed at the negativity in their words. I can hear all the criticisms I've heard about each of us. I can see the irritation they try and hide at certain habits of the person they are talking to. I can see all of their flaws magnified. I know too much about them. I've heard too much about them. I don't even want to imagine what they say about me. When I'm around my family I am more quiet and true smiles are sparse. i feel like a nuisance. I imagine all the ways that they will criticize me in conversations later.

But I don't know how to make friends and keep them. I am constantly isolating myself because it's safe. If nobody sees me then they can't criticize me.  (Actually they can and will, but lonely is my norm so it is what I retreat to.) I hate rejection so I reject the world. 

Has my "nurture" masked my "nature"? Paralyzed me from thriving in the world (or stepping outside, at least)? I was once a happy baby and then I was rejected and alone for years.

Whatever. Can I get a do over?

Hi There

It seems everyday I get a little worse. I think about dying. I think about killing myself. Lately, it's more the Just Do It approach, fuck the theatrics and drama. Just kill myself and get this shit over with. What am I waiting for? Some miracle to happen? Some sign that I should hang in there.... but for what? The only person that hurts me to think if they hurt is my mom. 

I spent the weekend in tears or choking them back. My birthday weekend. (It's prolly not surprising to you that I'm crying right now, is it?) (Don't answer that.) On Friday we hung out at the spa, got massages, and went wine tasting. I cried (discreetly) on the way there thinking of the bikini that I would have to wear in front of people and that I would have to eat and I wouldn't be able to throw it up. On the way home, again, I cried but the dam of tears was EPIC. The last 10-15 minutes home I was fighting to keep a calm and quiet breathe. When I got home I sobbed into the couch for a solid 20 minutes.

And then I b/p'd, of course. I felt more calm after that, as I usually do.

On Saturday (my actual birthday) my mom arranged to BBQ at her boyfriends house (he lives an hour away, he lives in a beautiful home too and all my family wants to see the remodeling he had done). I texted my mom early and told her I wasn't feeling well, and later that I wasn't feeling well and wasn't going to go and "have fun." She replied telling me that she had everything ready and would be "SAD" if I didn't come. She also sent me a picture of the Angel Food cake with low cal marshmallow dressing that she made decorated with fresh strawberries and blueberry and in the shape of my initial. She clearly put A LOT of thought into it. So I went. 

In the evening her boyfriend told me how upset she was and was crying, and how she put so much effort into the meal (grilled veggies & a salad) making that frosting so that it would be low cal. I felt sad that she went through that. I am such an asshole. I am an only child and I wish that she would have gotten a better "egg." 

She doesn't know what to do with me. She wants to make me happy but she's at a loss of what she can possibly do (nothing short of killing me and putting me out of my misery). She just goes another day and hopes it will get better, she gets happy when I smile and chatter all lively; a practice that I am getting more and more use to faking. But it all falls down when she sees a moist stream down my cheek when we cross paths at night. Or the nights where we are both being Chatty Patty's and suddenly I just burst into tears. Saying how much I hate myself, my life, and I just want to be dead already between sobs.

Sometimes she hugs me if I come of as completely vulnerable. When there is anger and frustration mixed in she might get mad and frustrated with me; as though I'm doing it to upset her and make her feel like shit. Sorry mom, apparently sometimes my depression is contagious? Either way. It's my issue. It's my depression. It seems I have come to the point where I am powerless against it.

Nobody around me understands so they discredit my feelings and just think I'm doing it to myself and/or being dramatic. I wish.

Below the Surface

I managed to survive the weekend without gaining weight. This is based, of course, on how my pants fit because the scale is more terrifying than the Boogey Man, whom we all know keeps millions up at night. I continue to NomVom, through the weekend and even today. The interesting part will be tomorrow when my friend comes over for drinks.

I will keep the Nomming activity towards the end of the visit so that I can Vom under the guise of a shower since my mom will be home. My tactics are getting bolder.

Last week my cousin spent the night. In the morning she showed no signs of leaving (as per usual, she likes to use my internet).  The plan was Nom&Vom. One problem: silence. She was on her computer and hadn't turned the TV on. I grabbed the remote and turning it on, commenting on how I needed background noise, "silence drives me crazy!" I finished the Nom and turned on the shower to further muffle the Vom; with the added benefit of a steamy shower. Smooth sailing.

Over the weekend, with all the chatter and the fact that the bathroom had two rooms, the sink area and then the shower and toilet area with the fan, noise was not an issue. I kept the VomNom's to about 3 times a day. The hardest one was the evening, but I still managed. Plus, we were drinking all weekend so if somebody did happen to hear me puke (which I doubt because they would ask, "you okay?") then they'd likely chalk it up to drinking.

The obstacle was the last day when we went to lunch with my dad. I wanted to get back so bad so I could get the MEXICAN FOOD out of me! All my energy went into seeming at ease, but we all know my heart was racing and my mind was frantic in trying to find a way to purge. So annoying. When I excused myself to the restroom my sister joined me. ARGH! I made sure to comment how I couldn't wait to get back and use the restroom. I always claim poop when I spend an extended amount of time in the restroom. 

I'm writing a whole post about puking, yes I am. Wow.

In other news, I'm going to be 25. Can you believe I'm that old? I'm struggling with it. Especially because I have no life. My mom took Friday off and has something planned to do for us (I'm hoping massages!) and Saturday, my actual birthday, nothing. I'm thinking I'll be spending the day wallowing in my own self-pity. What a sad, sad life I live.

This weekend being around my family was weird. I feel like such an outsider. Not all the time, but much of it. There is no comfort and ease when I walk into the room. I always feel like I'm interrupting a conversation if I sit next people or even ask to join in an activity. And I'm not all doom & gloom despite the tone the has been ever present in the blog (and/or how I feel!) I come over with a smile and try to pretend it's all easy-peasy and comfortable. 

The room is filled with a low roar, there is conversation, drinking and munching constantly going. I like when we DO things. On Saturday night we were playing Wii and had so much fun. We started off with karaoke and then played a dancing game. All of us were into it and having fun! (Yeah, I was the reigning champ in dance! 2nd place in karaoke.) I wish our get together were more like that instead of centered around food, drinking, and the fucking conversations that we have all the time. Okay, the drinking I don't mind.

I was hoping the funtivities would happen again, but there was nobody to initiate. We lack doers in our family. It seems like we have to be almost forced and nagged into doing things. Getting organized is so hard. Nobody wants to shut up for 5 minutes so that one person can explain something or organize. There is always a few side conversations going on. Always a "funny" comment, but the comment doesn't stop, a funny comment to the funny comment, and so on. I like that we can laugh and talk or whatever but I feel like our get-togethers are getting more and more redundant and less and less fun. 

We have the whole "the more the merrier" attitude but people don't want to just sit around with a bunch of drunks regurgitating the same stories. If we were to partake in actual activities (while drunk, of course) then perhaps we'd be a little more enthusiastic about these get-togethers and maybe even invite people! And MAY-BE these people might have fun and want to come back! And MAY-BE this will snowball and we might actually have MORE people and a MERRIER time!!?

Just a theory.

I just don't know where I stand. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fairly normal girl. Normal in the sense that people can chat with me and like me.  Normal in the sense that I don't suck at everything, that I'm actually pretty good at things. Normal in the sense that people actually want me around and enjoy my company.  But sometimes I feel just the opposite. Take all those things and flip it to the negative. And you know what is a catalyst for this type of thinking? That I can feel this way around family. If my own family merely tolerates me than imagine how people with no relation to me must feel?

O.O

Maybe that's why I pull away from people. I fear that the more they get to know me and learn about me the more they will not like me. I fear that they will think I am too weird to be associated with. Everytime I gain even the slightest bit of confidence something happens and it swept from under my feet. I feel like a monkey that slips on a banana peel every time I try to take a step forward. 

I was chatting with a fellow blogger the other day and bulimia came up. She told me that it would be awesome if I stopped again. I told her I'm afraid to stop NomVom. Admittedly, I'm not doing well. I'm depressed with suicidal thoughts, and I can not eat without bingeing and I cannot binge without purging. And so the cycle goes.

It may seem like stopping would make things better but I disagree. Bulimia is my gravity lately. Sure, with it I will be holding onto a certain amount of depression and solitude. At the same time, weight gain is a catalyst to depression and solitude. I am more willing to leave my house and interact with people when my jeans fit comfortably. I notice that overwhelming emotions are calmed with a NomVom. I am easier to smile when I don't like a blubbery walrus and I have some endorphins in me, which is released through vomming. 

I can't stop because I need this calm. 

I need my gravity. 

My gravity that keeps me just below the surface; 

but not deep enough to drown.

Vom & Nom Weekend

Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! The Vom & Nom, FamBam Weekend fiasco is now in session! I have been mom pressured into coming up to my cousins house for a family four day weekend. I'm not even 24 hours into it and I'm ready to hitchhike my way back home.

Last night we had Costco pizza and peanut butter rice crispy treats.
Vommed.*
This morning I had a smoothie, a muffin, pb crispy treat, and yogurt.
Vommed.*

There are 10 adults, 3 kids (9-12), and 3 babies under one roof. Good times. The personalities and the food require much toleration on my part, as I'm sure you ladies can imagine. On the bright side we all sort of do out own things. We eat sporadically for the most part since we all eat differently, my sis and her hubby are on a diet. It's well-known that I eat crazy...so it's just a hodge podge cluster fuck of crazy.

I don't know how I'm going to survive this weekend. Keep nomming and vomming? Probably. I'm so use to my solitude. To be around so many people for 4 days straight has me feeling like I'm going to either jump out of my skin or go Ostrich and stick my head in the ground until it's over.

Halp.

Let's see if hanging by the pool will effectively waste time. Maybe even go in, since melting seems to be the alternative.

*Vom all I can, but, of course, I always want more!

Lightning & Puke

Tic-Tac...Two? Baby steps. Can't just be all toe-ing around without Tic Tacs. (I don't know what this means either. But I felt it MUST be said.) I'm trying to get back into the swing of blogging. Maybe if I just go through the motions and start typing something of substance will emerge? Whatever, let the word vomit commence!

I had a very unproductive day, as per usual, but I didn't like get struck by lightning or anything so that's––well, actually, that would be pretty cool! In so many ways.

It would mean that there was a thunderstorm today, and it's summer, so the coolness is multiplied by 9. It always smells cool after the rain, which I wouldn't be enjoying because I'd likely be in the hospital or dead but everyone else can, so that's good. I would be dead. (Whoa, heavy for you, but I'd be all sunshine and apples or something, so this is happy thoughts for me so smile.) OR I would be in the hospital getting flowers and balloons, and who doesn't love flowers and balloons? And I'd be a lightning struck person which I'm pretty sure would make me pretty darn special, and land me a few scholarships.

This weekend I might be going out of town with fam, kicking and screaming. I really don't want to go. I'm a fatass, and this is the [de]motivating force towards activity. My moms birthday weekend, that week, AND last weekend just killed. I still managed to purge everyday, but obviously not NEARLY enough. I was consuming nonstop junk food and purge UNfriendly foods.

It's wednesday now, third day of purge friendly foods. Going this weekend would just mean being a fatass, and I just cannot handle gaining, and I can't seem to escape the all or nothing mentality. Hopefully by body will get use to the grumbly tummy feeling of purging all this week, and the thought of keeping anything down will keep me from eating.

Healthy. :-/

Are Doritos purgefriendly?
meh.

I'm at a crossroads. I teeter and totter on the see-saw between caring and not. Apart of me says fuck it stay home and binge and purge all weekend, because it's what I want to do and fuck it, I'm fat anyway. I don't want anybody to see me, I'm hideous! And then there is the little part of me that says just go. I'll no doubt be uncomfortable of my fat hideousity but no doubt there will be some fun sprinkled in there too. And then, of course, the added comfort that when somebody asked what I did over the weekend I won't have to fabricate something or other to hide my ED and keep the creep factor low on the radar. I am very away that bingeing and purging weekend after weekend (*cough* day after day) and nothing else is not normal and a decent reason to think I am a completely creepy weirdo. Like I peep in people's windows or kick puppies or something.

Okay, weird, maybe, but I'm not a puppy kicker or peeping tom!

_______________________Comments:

Mellon, how do I get ahold of you? You can gchat me at FlushedAgain@gmail.com

(that goes for anybody too, I'm pretty friendly...and ridiculous.)

Emily, ummmmmmm.... I'm trying? I would certainly like to be a stable person, harder than it seems. Message me, we can hash this shit out together! Or just be ridiculous. I'm pretty versatile...

Sarah - by a thread. :-\  And several bottles of Wine and Fresca. And Flushing. (Pun intended.)

A Will Is A Way - I heart you :) Let skip in a field of sunflower and sing at the top of our lungs!

Rain, rain, go away! You're making me cray-cray! I want sunshine, I want rainbows. I want to fit in tiny clothes! Enough with depression. Enough with puke. I'm so sick and tired of you!

Peridot - I'll give Petville a try, and I'll send you a damn genie lamp! lol Play tetris and Farmville with me :) FV is lame, but oddly addicting. And then let's play leap frog at the lily pond!