I like food. I like food a lot. I'm one of those people now, I guess, who you read about. A "yo-yo dieter." I go from exercising hardcore and eating six little healthy meals a day to eating 3 Drumsticks in one sitting, some Hot Cheetos and home-style mac-n'-cheese. I call myself a lot of names. On an average I-ate-my-weight-in-chocolate-and-sad-feelings day, you'll hear me jokingly talk about what a fatty I am. I call my butt/thigh region a "thutt" (you can't tell the difference between thigh and butt). I call myself pancake-ass, jiggly, cottage cheesy, cellulite filled, and just plain gross. I'm pretty damn funny, actually. But, in actuality, I don't really feel very happy about the way I look and I guess it's pretty obvious. I think my issue now is, after moving out from my parents' place- going from not eating very much food and running all the time, to eating three hearty meals a day, sitting around sad and overwhelmed and stressed about the next phase in my life- I gained quite a bit of weight. I don't look like a whale or anything but I keep gaining weight because after the initial weight gain and lack of exercise, I tried to workout hardcore and I seriously hurt my joints. Initially I thought something was wrong with my knees, which maybe there is, but I think more than anything- the additional weight makes my joints pissed off at me. It hurts to exercise. So then I get into this cycle of "Oh my gosh I'm so fatty I can't even go for a 10 minute run without feeling like I'm an old person."
I'm really trying to work on my consistency and not taking on too much and being kinder to myself- just doing a reasonable amount of dieting and exercise, or rather changing my lifestyle but consistency is tough! I trace my tendency to overeat certain things back to my childhood. My boyfriend always comments on the fact that the only really positive memories I have of my mom are connected to food in one way or another. She nurtured through her cooking and when I'm really sad, I think I equate eating cozy food and specific foods I had as a child to that feeling you get when you know your mom loves you- and I don't have that feeling very often. I don't think it would even be so bad to be an emotional eater....but I just commit food-icide! Moderation is not something I understand... I wonder what the trick to disassociating food from nostalgic memories is.
I think I need a consistency coach, personal trainer, and a nutritionist...and money for those things, haha.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Being an Adult- The Responsibilities of a Sexual Abuse Survivor
What I am about to describe and divulge to you takes a lot of, I guess you could say, "guts" on my part. It may not even be the most intelligent thing to share with the world but as an advocator for openness and healing, as well as moving on and growing up, I kind of feel it really is something I'm obligated to share with you guys.
I genuinely believe that there is no such thing as "good" and "bad" people. Only bad decisions. I also believe that people who are mean or abusive or truly scary didn't start out that way- they, more likely than not, were abused as children or adolescents or maybe in adulthood and that abuse will always shape you as a person-sometimes positively, and sometimes not.
I talk a lot, in my blog, about how my mom sexually abused me (as well as physically and verbally) and I think it's pretty clear I do not like her. As a kid, though, things were different. As a kid, I loved my mom more intensely than any kind of love I've seen someone have for another person. My mom has always been both a very open person, and a very secretive person. With her, the story always changes. My mom would tell me stories about her childhood and I wish I had listened harder. Asked more questions. I find I have so many questions about where she came from, knowing now the things that both she and I struggle with. Maybe having the answers would help me better understand myself.
My mother was always pretty consistent about the fact that her mom was always pretty cold. It seemed like she nurtured mainly through food, like my mom does. My mom always speaks highly of her dad- he died when she was 16 and she was devastated. I always wonder, though, if he wasn't the most abusive of the bunch. She praises him like he was some sort of god she was graced with but I never heard much about why he was such a wonderful father. I wonder if maybe he hit his children and his wife. Maybe he sexually abused my mom or some of the family? Maybe he was, in fact, a great dad. I know that when I asked my mom- "Did your father every rape you or your siblings?" She gets furious with me. She always responds with, "How dare you speak badly about my father. I love him and he was a far better person than you." I don't know about you, but that reaction just makes me more suspicious.
My mom immigrated from Austria when she was 3 with her parents and brother and sister, in the fifties I believe. Her mom was jewish and her father was catholic. My mom faced a lot of racism in Iowa and they called her a dirty German. They hit her with baseball bats, pushed her down stairs, and made it really clear that they didn't like her or her background. I think my mom always felt very isolated and just generally unliked- by her family and the people around her. When my mom talks about what she was like as a child and teenager- she reminds me of me and what I was like as a child. She was a quirky creative little girl who kept to herself and hated conflict. She always tried to bring the family together and it upset her more than it would upset most when she felt someone didn't like her. When I picture my mom as a little girl- a very petite, adorable little blonde girl with sausage curls, a pressed dress, and a bow in her hair- I am angry for her and I am angry at whoever hurt her in her past. I stand by the fact that I believe my mom was raped. My mom mentioned in anger or in a drunken slur a few times throughout my life that her brother had raped her. But when I would later ask her about it, she'd get angry with me and say my mind was "in the gutter." Whether or not it happened, I don't know and I have no proof of but I believe with all my heart that she was abused, mistreated, and put in a bad position several times throughout her life.
My mom is a weird person. She's terrified of being homeless, is afraid of the dark, is constantly in a child-like state, very dependent, irrational, angry, manipulative, and helpless. She has an addictive personality, takes 8 vicodin a day (among other prescribed pills taken in excess) and has a tendency to drink and sneak alcohol and Butterfingers. I've always known her to be on "the verge of committing suicide." She has the lowest self esteem I think I've ever seen a person have. She certainly hates herself more than I hate her, and that's saying something. To her, I don't think there's anything more scary than being alone. She's a very overweight, very lazy, chronic pain person and she is addicted to collecting things and spending money she doesn't have- even if she believes she's the best bargain hunter you can find. She's actually...intelligent? I think? But most of what she knows and talks about these days are Indian soap operas, Clay Aiken, and various TV series. She's a Sci-Fi lover and far to open about her sex life and various blow jobs she's given but when you discuss something sexually-normal with her- she'll literally cover her ears, sing a childish song, or tell you you're crass.
Anyway- as a child, I really felt for my mom and her stories about her childhood and the pain she still feels today would bring me to tears. People would hear about and see how I was being raised and they would be very concerned and try to comfort me and I always would say, "My mom's just hurting. She means well and really loves me. She just doesn't know how to love herself." A lot of times I would tell people I didn't really care if she loved me, I just wish she would love herself, and I would be 7 or 8 at the time and people would just stare at me- shocked. I understand why, now. See, moving out of my house, away from my parents was great and crucial in so many ways. I didn't understand until I separated myself from our dysfunction that my parent's love for me was very conditional and therefore my love for myself and other people around me was very conditional.
It's only taken me until now to realize what the aftermath of what the cycle of dysfunction and rape and sexual abuse really is. Here's the tough thing to admit- the thing I really never really say (and the thing you never really say, either, if you've been raped or molested.) I am terrified of myself. When I'm around small children, girls or boys, sometimes I can get myself into this place where I am just hyperventilating, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed with myself. I feel ashamed, anxious, and revolting. That feeling is the IMMENSE fear that I will repeat the cycle. My mom was raped, she raped me- I don't know how people are supposed to interact in a healthy way with children. What if how I interact is wrong? What if I do something? What if I hurt them? What if I break them? What if I damage this precious, innocent life because I am somehow this damaged, gross person? I can't tell anyone. They'll think I've done something to another child. They'll look at me different. Maybe they'll report me if I say something to a therapist? Is this normal? Do all rape victims feel this way? What's the right way to react? How do I heal from this? Do I heal? Am I supposed to not interact with children? I love children and being able to nurture and care for children makes me feel happy and fulfilled. Is that unhealthy? Should I not be allowed to work with children? Will my boyfriend leave me if he knows this is how I feel?
I'm fortunate enough to have some really great friends, a very loving, understanding, and rational boyfriend, and people who share my experiences. Luckily, with that combination of greatness, I feel okay and not so afraid of myself- not so ashamed- not so alone in my fear. I have a few friends who have come to me in private and asked me, "I get really anxious and unsettled around little girls (or little boys or both) and I hate myself for it. Do you feel that way too sometimes? How do you deal with it?" And, boy, am I so glad they came to me. Not only was it comforting for them to hear that, yes, I can feel that way and I have somethings I do and tell myself to work through it, but it's comforting for me too. That's why I'm sharing (even though it's probably the single most thing I'm mortified to share about.) Looking back on my childhood, my mom's childhood, and my "freak outs" I have- I realize the feeling I get isn't a "desire" to do something wrong, but the fear that some day that "desire" my mom and whoever raped her had. I don't want to be some monster and the thought of being an abuser is overwhelming and scary.
This is where being an adult just plain sucks. When you're abused as a kid, it's easy to feel like you're still a kid, what is expected of you is the same as what is expected of a kid, and you are as fragile as a kid (or at least that's how I sometimes feel). The issue is, when you feel worried about the potential you have to do damage to another child- it's time to be an adult. Yes, you were abused. Yes, your boundaries aren't always as clear. Yes, being around children is hard for you to navigate. But you have to learn when to be really honest with yourself and gauge your situation. I think it's okay to feel anxious and nervous around kids sometimes, because as a survivor, you are at a greater risk of repeating the abuse and I don't think you need to beat yourself up for being cautious and afraid that that is a possibility- but if you do feel you're at a place where the line between "wrong" and "right" is blurred- you need to remove yourself from the situation, regroup, and maybe have a therapist help you sort through those feelings and fears and help give you perspective.
It's your responsibility as a survivor to break the cycle, not repeat it. I think, as a person, you always have the choice to make good and bad decisions. It's figuring out which one's which that gets tough.
I genuinely believe that there is no such thing as "good" and "bad" people. Only bad decisions. I also believe that people who are mean or abusive or truly scary didn't start out that way- they, more likely than not, were abused as children or adolescents or maybe in adulthood and that abuse will always shape you as a person-sometimes positively, and sometimes not.
I talk a lot, in my blog, about how my mom sexually abused me (as well as physically and verbally) and I think it's pretty clear I do not like her. As a kid, though, things were different. As a kid, I loved my mom more intensely than any kind of love I've seen someone have for another person. My mom has always been both a very open person, and a very secretive person. With her, the story always changes. My mom would tell me stories about her childhood and I wish I had listened harder. Asked more questions. I find I have so many questions about where she came from, knowing now the things that both she and I struggle with. Maybe having the answers would help me better understand myself.
My mother was always pretty consistent about the fact that her mom was always pretty cold. It seemed like she nurtured mainly through food, like my mom does. My mom always speaks highly of her dad- he died when she was 16 and she was devastated. I always wonder, though, if he wasn't the most abusive of the bunch. She praises him like he was some sort of god she was graced with but I never heard much about why he was such a wonderful father. I wonder if maybe he hit his children and his wife. Maybe he sexually abused my mom or some of the family? Maybe he was, in fact, a great dad. I know that when I asked my mom- "Did your father every rape you or your siblings?" She gets furious with me. She always responds with, "How dare you speak badly about my father. I love him and he was a far better person than you." I don't know about you, but that reaction just makes me more suspicious.
My mom immigrated from Austria when she was 3 with her parents and brother and sister, in the fifties I believe. Her mom was jewish and her father was catholic. My mom faced a lot of racism in Iowa and they called her a dirty German. They hit her with baseball bats, pushed her down stairs, and made it really clear that they didn't like her or her background. I think my mom always felt very isolated and just generally unliked- by her family and the people around her. When my mom talks about what she was like as a child and teenager- she reminds me of me and what I was like as a child. She was a quirky creative little girl who kept to herself and hated conflict. She always tried to bring the family together and it upset her more than it would upset most when she felt someone didn't like her. When I picture my mom as a little girl- a very petite, adorable little blonde girl with sausage curls, a pressed dress, and a bow in her hair- I am angry for her and I am angry at whoever hurt her in her past. I stand by the fact that I believe my mom was raped. My mom mentioned in anger or in a drunken slur a few times throughout my life that her brother had raped her. But when I would later ask her about it, she'd get angry with me and say my mind was "in the gutter." Whether or not it happened, I don't know and I have no proof of but I believe with all my heart that she was abused, mistreated, and put in a bad position several times throughout her life.
My mom is a weird person. She's terrified of being homeless, is afraid of the dark, is constantly in a child-like state, very dependent, irrational, angry, manipulative, and helpless. She has an addictive personality, takes 8 vicodin a day (among other prescribed pills taken in excess) and has a tendency to drink and sneak alcohol and Butterfingers. I've always known her to be on "the verge of committing suicide." She has the lowest self esteem I think I've ever seen a person have. She certainly hates herself more than I hate her, and that's saying something. To her, I don't think there's anything more scary than being alone. She's a very overweight, very lazy, chronic pain person and she is addicted to collecting things and spending money she doesn't have- even if she believes she's the best bargain hunter you can find. She's actually...intelligent? I think? But most of what she knows and talks about these days are Indian soap operas, Clay Aiken, and various TV series. She's a Sci-Fi lover and far to open about her sex life and various blow jobs she's given but when you discuss something sexually-normal with her- she'll literally cover her ears, sing a childish song, or tell you you're crass.
Anyway- as a child, I really felt for my mom and her stories about her childhood and the pain she still feels today would bring me to tears. People would hear about and see how I was being raised and they would be very concerned and try to comfort me and I always would say, "My mom's just hurting. She means well and really loves me. She just doesn't know how to love herself." A lot of times I would tell people I didn't really care if she loved me, I just wish she would love herself, and I would be 7 or 8 at the time and people would just stare at me- shocked. I understand why, now. See, moving out of my house, away from my parents was great and crucial in so many ways. I didn't understand until I separated myself from our dysfunction that my parent's love for me was very conditional and therefore my love for myself and other people around me was very conditional.
It's only taken me until now to realize what the aftermath of what the cycle of dysfunction and rape and sexual abuse really is. Here's the tough thing to admit- the thing I really never really say (and the thing you never really say, either, if you've been raped or molested.) I am terrified of myself. When I'm around small children, girls or boys, sometimes I can get myself into this place where I am just hyperventilating, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed with myself. I feel ashamed, anxious, and revolting. That feeling is the IMMENSE fear that I will repeat the cycle. My mom was raped, she raped me- I don't know how people are supposed to interact in a healthy way with children. What if how I interact is wrong? What if I do something? What if I hurt them? What if I break them? What if I damage this precious, innocent life because I am somehow this damaged, gross person? I can't tell anyone. They'll think I've done something to another child. They'll look at me different. Maybe they'll report me if I say something to a therapist? Is this normal? Do all rape victims feel this way? What's the right way to react? How do I heal from this? Do I heal? Am I supposed to not interact with children? I love children and being able to nurture and care for children makes me feel happy and fulfilled. Is that unhealthy? Should I not be allowed to work with children? Will my boyfriend leave me if he knows this is how I feel?
I'm fortunate enough to have some really great friends, a very loving, understanding, and rational boyfriend, and people who share my experiences. Luckily, with that combination of greatness, I feel okay and not so afraid of myself- not so ashamed- not so alone in my fear. I have a few friends who have come to me in private and asked me, "I get really anxious and unsettled around little girls (or little boys or both) and I hate myself for it. Do you feel that way too sometimes? How do you deal with it?" And, boy, am I so glad they came to me. Not only was it comforting for them to hear that, yes, I can feel that way and I have somethings I do and tell myself to work through it, but it's comforting for me too. That's why I'm sharing (even though it's probably the single most thing I'm mortified to share about.) Looking back on my childhood, my mom's childhood, and my "freak outs" I have- I realize the feeling I get isn't a "desire" to do something wrong, but the fear that some day that "desire" my mom and whoever raped her had. I don't want to be some monster and the thought of being an abuser is overwhelming and scary.
This is where being an adult just plain sucks. When you're abused as a kid, it's easy to feel like you're still a kid, what is expected of you is the same as what is expected of a kid, and you are as fragile as a kid (or at least that's how I sometimes feel). The issue is, when you feel worried about the potential you have to do damage to another child- it's time to be an adult. Yes, you were abused. Yes, your boundaries aren't always as clear. Yes, being around children is hard for you to navigate. But you have to learn when to be really honest with yourself and gauge your situation. I think it's okay to feel anxious and nervous around kids sometimes, because as a survivor, you are at a greater risk of repeating the abuse and I don't think you need to beat yourself up for being cautious and afraid that that is a possibility- but if you do feel you're at a place where the line between "wrong" and "right" is blurred- you need to remove yourself from the situation, regroup, and maybe have a therapist help you sort through those feelings and fears and help give you perspective.
It's your responsibility as a survivor to break the cycle, not repeat it. I think, as a person, you always have the choice to make good and bad decisions. It's figuring out which one's which that gets tough.
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