Some of you may have noticed that yesterday I remarked that I had had a bad day on my FB page due to letting others under my skin, again. I didn't specify anymore than that. I wasn't sure I wanted to, or that I ought to. Then, I figured that I share so much else on here, and sometimes in the process help others in the same sort of situations, so I might go ahead and post about what happened. Also, writing sometimes allows me to get things out that I can't do verbally. I am not very good verbalizing my thoughts and feelings.
Last week my father called me. I haven't spoken to him for about 2 yrs. Every time I called to wish him a happy birthday or happy father's day I'd get his voice mail. I eventually just stopped trying. He wanted to tell me that my mother had left him and that he was sorry for writing me off because my mother didn't like him speaking to me. I was happy to hear from him and let all resentment toward him go. I figured that my mother in her craziness would turn on others after I was no longer around to accept her abuse and drama. I was correct. After 34 years of marriage she packed up without warning and left him, going clear across the country to her sister's after clearing out most of the bank account.
I was excited to rebuild a relationship. I had all these grand plans of him and my brother coming to visit, and we would do this and that. I would finally have someone to talk to that was family, that cared for me and supported me.
A few days went by, so I thought I'd try to chat with him via skype, only to get a hold of my brother who told me that mom came home. No one told me. He said Dad would call me later. That was almost a week ago. He isn't calling me. It's back to where it was. I am the odd one out. Cast aside, and vilified. I was doing okay as it was. I didn't need the false hope that maybe, just maybe I was worth something to them that they'd give me the time of day. It was a wound ripped right open for me. I was once again the weird little girl who no one noticed, and no one cared about. My desperation for this acceptance was so great.
Old behaviors started creeping back in... namely anorexic thinking with it's old friend body dysmorphia. I create these things to control something. If only I was thin and pretty enough people would like me. As well as it's a way to control and punish myself for not feeling good enough by other's standards. Thankfully, I have a husband who is here for me. He quickly reminded me of how ridiculous this whole dieting thing was. I am not overweight and if I lose more than a few pounds I will be classified as underweight. I wear a size 5/6 (UK size 7/8) and am not short. Dieting very much for me at this point could be dangerous. Logically, I know that, but that's not how I feel inside. I feel desperate to change something. To do something. I just want to be accepted. I want to feel worthy and good enough.
After I had a massive meltdown yesterday, and got some sleep I feel better today. I am able to get back on track with healthy behaviors and let go of what isn't and never was. It's an unfortunate situation, but one that I am stuck with. I may as well make the best of it and do what I can and leave the rest alone.
This whole situation remind me of a dream that I used to have often as a child. It's one in which I somehow got turned into a ghost and no one could hear or see me. In the dream I'd scream and beg for my parents to reply to me, only to be ignored. I'd go to school where the same happened. Everywhere I went I was invisible. I wasn't noticed. I would eventually get myself so worked into a desperate tizzy that I'd awaken, crying and terribly anxious. Through the years, the dream would change a bit in scenery, and such, but the theme would remain the same. I'm tired of being that sad, lonely, ignored little girl. I'm ready to be noticed by those who matter most. My husband and kids, and forget the rest.