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Archive for May 12th, 2008

Child in shack (c) Lynda BernhardtOkay – So I clearly have some more healing work to do regarding my mother. I had an epiphany that I struggle emotionally each year in May, but I did not recognize that this was a vulnerable time until recently. And what is in May? Mother’s Day, of course. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the dots.

Two years ago, I really struggled in May but then pulled myself out in June. I had been learning how to eat regular portions of food back in January of 2006 and was doing great until May, when I backslid. I made a “life decision” to end the binge eating once and for all after that relapse. I lost a bunch of weight (probably around 30 lbs.), a little at a time. I learned how to manage my emotions in other ways. I even got through Christmas mostly unscathed weight-wise.

Then, in May of 2007, it all blew up. In April, I had been thinking about how to celebrate one year of staying “on the wagon” and having a fairly consistent weight for the first time in my life. And then, I was publicly recognized for my volunteer work and spiraled out of control. I was so disappointed in myself for falling short of my one-year goal. I gained weight, and I pretty much stayed in a bad place until August.

So now, here I am in May again. I found myself becoming more and more vulnerable to emotional eating as Mother’s Day approached. And then my mother went into the hospital, and that was all she wrote.

I did not even tell anyone about it other than what I posted here. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel, and I am certain that nobody else around me will know what I should be feeling. If I cannot understand this in myself, how can I possibly expect anyone else in my life to understand it?

I wrote a series for my professional blog about eating disorders, and it hit me that I needed to follow my own advice about binge eating. (That article will publish later in the week.) I needed to express my emotions about my mother. The problem is that I don’t know what they are.

I gave myself permission to cry, and the tears came. I did it while I was drying my hair so nobody would hear me cry. I don’t want to be seen by my family when I am that vulnerable.

The tears came, but I am not sure for what. I think it is just about loss – the loss of the mother I needed; the loss of having a real mother-daughter relationship; the loss of the hope of ever experiencing that kind of relationship in this lifetime.

I don’t feel any better after crying, but at least I am not feeling hungry. Too bad I couldn’t have done that before the big bag of popcorn.

Related Topic:

Mother-Daughter Sexual Abuse

Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt

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