How I Feel - 5/19/14

This is my safe place. A place of honesty and sharing. I've shown my failures and I've shared my triumphs. I've even allowed a little peek into my soul. So what's left but to say that which lies beneath the sweet façade, giving unto the things that crawleth under the skin sending one spiraling into darkness praying to survive another day...as the inevitable awaits.


I unconsciously lift my fork to my mouth. There is food there, so I eat of it. Food doesn't taste good today nor did it yesterday. I still say it feels good to have made progress, but I am still very afraid. What if I fail again? What if I go so far only to start from square one again? How sick will I get this time?


Will I ever lose this weight? How can I ever lose this weight? Stupid diets don't work! All they do is make me want to STOP...eating. I have to eat.


Sometimes I don't feel healthy enough to exercise. I feel sick and I'm always tired. I've worn myself to the core. My monsters laugh at me. They can't hurt me anymore, but that doesn't matter. I've mastered hurting myself.

How many of us suffer, unable to see past poor self image? You don't have to answer that. I bet the majority of us do. I see so many having been emotionally, mentally and physically damaged...brutally so sometimes. The suffering is beyond pandemic. We are so saturated with pain that it's almost unrecognizable...invisible. We used to overlook pain because it wasn't talked about, but now we overlook the pain because it's what we are all about. Who hasn't been affected by addiction, physical affliction, unfortunate parenting, victimization, sexual deviancy, learned behavior, narcissism, co-dependency, mental illness...whatever the.... You name it we've got it...welcome to hell.


Why do we cling to pain? I don't understand it, but I see nothing other than IT. The cycle is vicious. There are people who want to hurt people while wanting to hurt themselves because they've been hurt; but then they may choose to hurt themselves over hurting other people, because it's another way to hurt others while feeding the inherent desire to continue the hurt they've known. It's a way of getting attention. It's a way of being left alone. It's a way of screaming out loud. It's a way of keeping silent. It's a relief. It's an escape. Pain used to cope with pain...that's the name of the game...right? If pain doesn't come now...it will most assuredly come later. No one goes unscathed.


The cycle of torment spans generations. The only difference between us and them...then and now...speaking our truth out loud. Of course, there are still those who live by the old decree...what happens in this house stays in this house. Secrets and lies stacked up in closets and shoved under beds; sent of to the places of unknown. I still wonder what kinds of hell past generations have seen. What lies have been dragged into graves. My mom had secrets...lots of them. Many of which I don't know or care to remember. She knew all my dirty secrets and dared not speak of them...not even to me.


I can't get this feeling out of my head...the feeling of being leprous, undesirable...cursed. Hell's fire upon all who look upon me. I am the hunchback of Notre Dame. The one shunned and ran away from. I do not know the love others claim to know. I have been used, abused and left to wither away. People tell me I'm pretty even beautiful, but it's all an illusion. I'm hidden behind smoke and mirrors. They want to make me feel better, but I don't want them to make me feel better and if they continue trying to make me feel better than I won't allow myself to feel better at all. I can't stand the disappointment. I can't stand feeling pretty for another moment only to watch it fade away...again. I just want to be left alone. Funny...I tell others they're beautiful. I want them to believe it because I believe it. Do they really believe me or do they feel the same as I do? Am I really helping them or am I trying to help myself?


I want to be stuck in a cave far away from humanity. I want to go unseen. I want to move along the crevices of existence cloaked by the black of night. I want to be sheltered by the silence of my thoughts. They won't be silenced. I want to numb my thoughts with food, self medicated in the comfort of being uncomfortable, but I can't. My desire to do so is fading so I sit here tonight and I write, fighting to live a life that I've never lived. Tonight I sit lost in a poetic slur.

April 4, 2014

I'm feeling a little unwanted and underappreciated right now. My understanding is this is a norm when you're raising a teenager. I don't mind so much, as I believe teens think parents are ancient and clueless.


I don't talk about my son much here because he is not the cause of my eating problem. My son is a source of joy and wonder. All thanks and praises be to God who saw me worthy to have and take care of this precious life. However, my precious one woke up a teenager one day and things began to change.


Today I went out to run a few short errands. While out I thought it would be nice to pick up some of my son's favorite chicken. Not to mention that I also got a few of his favorite treats from the grocery store. I got home, he helped with the groceries and then proceeded to isolate himself away from me. At first I talked myself out of taking it personal, but then I went in to my room which is right next to the den. My son recognized that I was going to be in my room for awhile. He turned off the tv and went into his room shutting, the door behind him. Okay, typical teen behavior...right?


I finished changing clothes and proceeded to go to my office to check my email before retreating to the kitchen. My office is across the hall from my son's room. Again, I must have invaded his space because he immediately retreated back to the den which is furthest from my office. By this time I started to take this behavior personally. Is this a big deal? No. But I wanted to get it off my chest because I have an issue with being unwanted and it felt a little like that today.


It didn't take me long to brush the feeling off. My son is not evil like my parents were. I know that he loves his mom and I also know that he cherishes his space. I'm glad that he is coming into his own. When raising a child on the spectrum, you don't always know what your going to get until the moment comes. In many ways, my son is not like the average teen, but in many ways he is and that's what makes him so unique. Ah, I get it now... Maybe that's why some people refer to being autistic as being a fruit salad...because you get something different in every bite. That makes sense.


Anyway, It's been a very good day. My son is still lovingly in the den. He did stop by to give me the sweetest kiss on the cheek. That's good enough for me. Take care my sweet one. Don't grow up too fast.


For breakfast I had eggs with cheese and a large glass of water. Lunch was a chicken sandwich. Dinner was pretty early, we ate at 5:30. I had two pieces of my son's favorite fried chicken, okra and mac-n-cheese with a med. strawberry soda. I've prepared a small fruit snack for later.