Does Santa Come to Rehab? : Day 8

Goodness gracious. What a day.

Do you ever look back on the day and think "I had no idea, getting out of bed, that today was going to go as it did?" Yeah, today was one of those days. Nothing horrible happened, no huge revelations occurred, but it was one of those emotionally-heavy laden days.

We discussed our parents in group therapy today, because we're learning to treat ourselves like "a nurturing parent". That is, the way we would treat a child. And I would obviously never treat a child the way I've been treating myself, unless I wanted to get slapped with multiple child abuse lawsuits. Anyways, we had to write about the needs met and not met by our parents growing up. After I made the list, I just started to cry. Here I am, all fucked up, greedy, selfish, and just a bitch, and I'm realizing everything my parents--or mom, rather--have done for me over the years. And I just felt so guilty. But then I started looking at some of the "needs not met" and I started to get angry. Very angry. That my dad is in denial that I have a problem, that if he ever wants me to know something, he won't FUCKING TELL ME, he'll go through my mom. It just really pissed me off. He'll give me money, buy me a car, then treat me like I don't exist. Ugh.

I called my dad's cell today because I couldn't get a hold of my mom, and though I could reach her through him.

Dad: "Hello?"
Me: "Hi, can I talk to mom?"
Dad: "No, she's not in right now. How you doin'?"
Me: "Eh."
Dad: "Are you cured?"

Umm...what?? Did you really just ask me that? Like, seriously?

Me: "Um, no."
Dad: "You don't sound so well."
Me: "Well, Dad, I'm kind of lonely on Christmas eve."
Dad: "So, is this working?"
Me: "It's a little early to tell, Dad."
Dad: "Well, you and mom wanted this and thought it would work..."
Me: "Okay, bye Dad."

CLICK!

I think therapy is helping. Because what I really wanted to say is FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. No, I'm not cured. I'll NEVER be fully cured, even if I learn how to "not act on my behavior." And you think that, in 7 days, I'm gonna be like "Hey! It's been a week! Say, starving myself on some days, and then bingeing and purging on alternating days isn't really my thing this week. Maybe I'll learn to crochet?"

Merry fucking Christmas.

So I called my mom and got all emotional. And this, mind you, took place while I was in the living room, because it had been less than an hour after dinner and GOD FORBID I HAVE ANY PRIVACY AT THAT TIME. Hrrmph.

Today was grocery shopping day!! And I got to go! Usually, I love grocery shopping. Scouting out the newest nonfat foods is my calling in life. However, here it's different. We're not supposed to look at the nutritional info of foods, and even though the labels aren't taped over at the store (obviously), I didn't want to look because I'll have to eat it anyways. But I admit it. I peaked. And was actually relieved at the caloric content of vanilla soymilk. And the chive cottage cheese. I felt SO much better after I did it.

I also kind of found a way to check the labels of certain foods. Depending on the packaging. Granted, I found this out by accident, but obviously I have been using it to my advantage.

I'm not sure. I was talking to Meagan today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY CAKES!!), and she asked me if I thought I'd go back to my old behaviors once I got out of here. And honestly, I don't know. I know it's not right. I know that. And I realize that it seems silly to go through all this trouble, hard work, and heartache just to go back to my old lifestyle. But it's so tempting. It'd be so easy to say "I'll have a 100-calorie, non-fat breakfast and exercise it all off, thank you," rather than stick to my eating plan.

The meal plan comforts me, though. I know what to eat, when to eat. I can't tell when I'm actually hungry anymore. I'll think that I am, but I'm not sure. It might just be because I'm thinking about food ALL THE TIME, and so I convince myself of my hunger even when I don't have any. They say that "intuitive eating takes time and practice." This makes me mad. It's something that you should just be able to do, like breathe and blink. I hate having to think "Am I hungry? I don't know. If I'm not dizzy within an hour, then maybe I'm not." That's why I figure if I just eat what I'm supposed to at the scheduled times, I'll be all right.

Thanks again to all those who have supported me through comments, messages, texts, and phone calls. It really does mean a lot to me during this challenging time. Merry Christmas everybody.

20 + 2 = FREEEEEEDOM!