Tuesday, May 18, 2010


I spent a great deal of time last week researching recipes so that I could show y'all some new stuff. What happened is I wrote my list and went shopping. Then the psychic attack began and I didn't want to cook.

It started with my cousin chastising me for having another cousin stay with my dad once he got out of the hospital. This is the busy time for me at work; if I take time off, it involves major changes. My cousin has a fluid work schedule. But because I was handing this off to someone else, I was lacking. I know this because I was asked "Why can't you be there the first night he gets out of the hospital?" This was asked about a relative who lives at least 2,000 miles away. I mentioned something about having a job, having bills. So yeah, folks who wanted me to take care of shit while not getting paid and possibly endangering my employment status? Yeah, they got a finger for their pain.

Thursday my dad got out of the hospital and proclaimed he wanted his business checkbook back. Because he could handle things. Like before. When he was two to three months behind on his bills. But I figured that he was a big boy and used to handling shit. Turns out that he is used to dealing with the present. The past? Please forgive him.

So by Saturday, I had decided that I had no father nor relatives on his side. Then I drove my mother across the Bay so she could leave the country. She was not satisfied with my answers about how I was handling my dad's situation. I was told that my wanting to disconnect was a sign that perhaps I needed to go back to therapy. And this is the point at which I decided that I don't have any blood relatives.

How is it that everyone is deep into dysfunctional behavior but I'm the one who needs therapy? I have spent way too many years being the crazy one. But I'm not crazy. I just want a life in which boundaries are respected.

Other than the ugly scene with mom on Saturday, I have not spoken to a family member since last Thursday. And I've never been more together in appearance.

My response to this, besides the "radio silence," has been to indulge in food. This is how I gained all the weight in the first place. I felt beat up beyond belief Saturday and so I went shopping. There was Haagen Dazs, microwave pizza and five layer dip with chips to name a few items.

Pity food is done. I'm backed to my pissed off strategy -- 900 to 1000 net calories. Yep. Eating disorder eating. But I'd need to lose 25 pounds from my current weight to be hospitalized. No need to fear that since I'm so far from that weight.


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