SOMEDAYS IT’S BETTER TO FLY
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This week, I realized that I am not the only member of my family with apersonality disorder. As I mentioned before, my mother is bipolar with schizoid personality disorder and a narcissist to boot. Throughout my whole life, she has been the person I attributed most of my deep emotional damage. However, I realized that she was not the only one. My grandparents — who I always considered to be normal — have been treating me quiet terribly (and always have). They are fantastic grandparents when it comes to material support. They paid for my college, my apartments, and even got me out of a bad debt. They are always there to lend me a hand when I need it — and for that I have always been thankful. Their huge weakness is the lack of emotional support I needed growing up with a mentally ill mother. They even create their own problems by trying to “help” with horrible and traumatizing solutions. For the purpose of this journal entry, we will focus on their recent obsession.
Since I got married last year, my husband and I gained around 30 pounds. It seems to be a pretty standard thing for couples to gain weight, so we decided to not think much of it and work on losing the weight. Reasonable right?
My family is obsessed with body image and keeping up appearances and they are horrified at this weight gain. They claim it’s a concern for health reasons, but the truth is that it has always been this way. When I was at a healthy weight, they always mentioned that I “just needed to lose a little more” and I would be perfect.
Instead, I struggle with an eating disorder. I gained and lost weight always in the range of 50-100 pounds since I was a child. When I was five years old, my grandmother made me run around the yard wrapped in a garbage bag, so I could be “pretty”. She ways enrolled me in gyms, modeling lessons, dance classes — anything that would keep me from turning into a ball of lard — her worst nightmare. Years of this lead to a serious eating disorder in my teens and I was bulimic at 12. My aunt would throw up food when she was “too full”, and showed me it was ok. My mother TAUGHT me how to purge.
I was not even a teenager yet.
During my skinny periods — which I now only know y way of pictures, because then they told me I was fat — I struggled to be even skinnier and felt horrible. During my heaver times, I would get lectures on how fat people don’t get hired for jobs because bosses think they are slobs and how they are going to be lonely forever (who wants to marry a fat chick). Sadly for them, I have a job that pays more than the American average household income and I am married. Now, they resort to tell me I am going to get diseases and I will end up in a wheel chair.
Dude, I GAIN 30 POUNDS. NOT 200.
This lovely conversation came up during Christmas dinner with the whole family and my husband by my side. My husband was not too happy and I was to the point of tears. It all started with a story about a new procedure in Mexico to reduce your stomach size. I was told to find out more about it. Then, a whole family discussion started on what I can do to lose weight and pointed out that my husband was now fat too and needed to do something about it. My husband is 10 pounds over a healthy weight. At this point I had enough.
The following day, I weep and was depressed, but I didn’t quiet understand why. I was so used to this abuse that I could no longer see how it was hurting me. I mentioned it to my mother and she told me to get over my traumas and grow up. They only do it because they care.
These people all have HUGE issues. My grandmother told me stories of how she was in an awesome liquid diet. She lost tons of weight, but she passed out everyday. This was totally worth it for her. My grandfather has diabetes and grossly overweight. He is happy to point out how everyone is doing their diets wrong and how fat they are. Yet, he overeats at every turn. My mother is about 330 pounds and never leaves her bed.
Yet — I’m the one with the problem?
It hurts to know that they will never understand how their actions are hurtful. Hurting each other is such a standard MO that any other method is absurd. My mother told me my grandfather told her she was disgusting and looked like a deformed thing. This motivated her to lose weight and was great he said that. She has now gained all the weight back and struggles with depression. It’s hard to fight it when they are so blind.
For now, I will be staying away from them as much as possible until I can full recover.
2087
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