Intake History

I have a friend who tells everyone about his problems. All our acquaintances know about his latest bruise or bump, relationship drama, and family issues. Admittedly, he's gone through some pretty fucked up nonsense and doesn't always live a charmed life.

I have to retreat to the bowels of the internet and create a fake persona to share the things that are troubling me. In fact, I don't know that any one person (other than perhaps TR but probably not even him) knows the true extent of the ridiculous things I've gone through.

I have reasonable evidence to support this. By this count, I've seen... 8 therapists. Those of you who have been to the shrink know the drill. First session: History. Every single therapist I've seen has given me that look of "Oh yeah you definitely need therapy" or "Why are you so functional?" or "JESUS".

I have known for a long time that everyone suffers in life through one form or another. When I was younger, I used to look to the sky and ask why I had been forced to live such a life when others were so fortunate? But now I know better. It isn't what's happened to you but how you deal with it.

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Sometimes I just want to be that person who can't deal with it so everyone else has to deal with it too. Distribute the burden so it hurts a little less. Sit and listen to people tell me how they feel bad for me and tell me exactly what I should do. Hold my hand.

I'll never be that person.

But I want to get it all off my chest. I have to tell someone about the baggage I carry. Someone who isn't paid to care about me.

So here it is.

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I have to start the story of my life before it begins. I have to tell you the story of my mother. It needs to be done this way because my mother lives through stories. Something reminds her of some other thing. She needs to relay her motivations by explaining what event caused her to feel that way. And sometimes, she just talks. And talks.

My grandmother is and was a wicked woman. She married a soldier going into WWII fully expecting he would die in the war and she'd be given a widow's pension, set for life. Unfortunately for her, he lived. And through that union, my mother was born. It was made very clear to her that my grandmother did not want her. When my mother was 3 years old, my grandmother (let's call her Petunia) took her door to door asking the neighbors if they'd like to adopt her. When this strategy didn't work, she told my mother (let's call her Rose) that she'd tried to have an abortion to prevent this entirely.

Several important events happened to Rose during these formative years. Most significantly, she almost died at age five.

Rose followed a trail of candy that the local newspaper boy, of perhaps fifteen or sixteen, was leaving behind along his way. The trail led into a barn. She was brutally raped and beaten. Her teeth were kicked out, her nasal cavity collapsed, and bones broken. The attacker buried her in a shallow grave and left her for dead. Rose softly cried out and was eventually found by a neighbor. She spent months in the hospital.

My mother had two younger siblings. Petunia's displeasure at having given birth to Rose never relented. Rose endured punishments like having her head shaved for wearing make up. Being a religious nut, Petunia told Rose that fiction books like Lassie were from the devil. More things than not were sins. Rose could quote scripture and play the organ in church, but she could barely read or write. She did poorly in school and other children teased her.

When she was 13, Rose became ill with the German measles because of which she contracted viral arthritis. She was hospitalized for almost a year, wheelchair bound. At one point, doctors told her she would never walk again. That night she attempted suicide. Her father wouldn't allow her to use the wheelchair in the house and made her crawl if necessary. Rose attributes his brand of tough love as the reason she was able to walk again.

Rose married at 16 and was pregnant at 17. Her husband was abusive (himself having been physically and sexually abused by his mother) but she gave the marriage 5 years, not wanting to return home to her former life. Her life was incredibly sheltered and her husband allowed her to have no friends. She couldn't drive a car and she hadn't finished high school, neither of which he allowed. He had a PhD. They divorced and she quickly remarried for financial security and to avoid Petunia. The only person she knew was her ex-husband's brother. So they married.

Husband #2 turned out to be even worse, but she would not know this immediately. She would have another child, a second daughter, by this man. Rose discovered later that Husband2 was sexually and physically abusing her children. He beat Rose and mentally tortured her. It was during this time she weighed 80 pounds at 5'3". Still, he called her fat and ugly. This husband was the principle of a private school. He was later accused to be sexually molesting children, but being a church run establishment, was relocated to a different area (after they divorced). My mother met another man, slowly but eventually, divorced husband number 2 and married husband number 3.

Number 3 was my father. By this time, my sisters were 13 and 17. I was born shortly after they married and a younger sister was born 2 years later.

Four years after they married, my father was killed in a plane crash.

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I think this is a good place to rest our eyes and continue another day.

Moderation

Have you ever felt really thin and looked at yourself in the mirror and said, "I am definitely like 20 pounds lighter. Sleep really does wonders!" Then you go on the scale and you actually weigh more? And it cannot be explained by water-retention or the weight of your ever lengthening hair (whenever I'm growing my hair out, I always think to myself, "If you would just cut your hair short again you'd probably weigh like 5 pounds less!") or the weight of tiny robots that may be camping out in your spleen!

Anyway, I'm still going to call it a victory. I feel less revolting so win! Actually, I'm incredibly proud of myself. My family has been spreading out Thanksgiving so we don't eat everything in one day and want to die. This has a downside for me because I'll be going to TR's parents house for Thanksgiving (aaah the first holiday spent with in-laws! My life is turning into a romantic comedy!) so basically I'll be eating Thanksgiving food at my house for 3 days then go to his house and have a huge dinner and then 3 days worth of leftovers.

The only thing saving me is that his mom isn't a great cook (fucking would it kill you to maybe season your food?! WOULD IT!?!!?) and I'm incredibly picky. So hopefully I'll just eat the pie I'm bringing and push some of her food around on the plate until it looks like I enjoyed her hospital food.

But anyway, I'm proud of myself. Today I was all set to make candied yams so my mother put out everything for me to make it. I LOVE my yams. I really love most Thanksgiving food actually but only if it was made by me or my mother. Otherwise Thanksgiving and most holiday food can go fuck itself.

So I decided that after my mashed potato overload yesterday (and midnight snack of hummus and pita) that perhaps today should be one of moderation. I put the yams back in the cabinet and ran upstairs to avoid the kitchen all together.

HOORAY FOR ME! I've done something that normal people have no problem doing on a daily basis.

*smug*

Ugh!

... That was the story of my life!

Savory gets "real"

OK, I've decided a few things. These are a few things that I have to be open about if I want to keep blogging. They might sound (and be) incredibly selfish and make you think less of me, but what the hell I've talked about my bathroom habits and you haven't run away or slapped me in the face yet.

There are several reasons why I blog infrequently. Let's list them:

1. I feel I am inadequately thin and/or disordered. Now this may sound silly coming from the person who locked herself in her room today and denied herself any food or drink (water included) until she saw a number on the scale she liked, but whatever. I'm not skinny and I don't feel like anyone wants to read about an average girl whining about her average problems.
2. My life is at a point where I sometimes can find the time to blog, but I don't find the time to contribute to the community in other meaningful ways. This is entirely my fault and I feel incredibly guilty that I never comment and hardly take the time to read other blogs. In my mind, it's incredibly selfish for me to expect my readers to keep checking on me when I don't have the common courtesy to do the same. But isn't that what a blog is? You write and other people read it? This is where it gets into existential gray areas.
3. ......... actually there might be only two reasons. Sorry for getting you hyped up about reading an in-depth list.

So there you have it. Basically I'm too inconsiderate to read your blogs but I still want you to read mine and comment because that's how I evaluate my self worth.

Now that I've said it, maybe we can have a more honest relationship. I apologize.

And as much as the proper Southern-bred lady in me wants to say "I'm so sorry, I promise to blog more and be more active in the community" that would be a lie. I'll try to be more active in the community, but I'm just not in that place anymore and as much as I try something's keeping me from going back there.

So there you have it. Probably the most honest I've ever been to the people I've always been able to be the most honest with.

[I have to write something here because I can't end a blog post with a preposition-grammatical-error because that's embarrassingly awkward]

In defense of my dog.

Ouch, lost a follower. Message received.

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Does anyone else have an unnatural attachment toward animals? I don't mean this in the "furry" kind of sense (shudder) but I find that an injured animal upsets me more than an injured person. I hate watching movies where there's a battle with people on horse because something happens and the horse falls over (probably crushing whoever was riding it) and I get incredibly worried about the horse. The fictional horse.

I've always felt this way about animals. Something about people I just can't connect with. Maybe I feel like people will inevitably choose to leave me. Maybe I sense that people are morally corrupt and too ambiguous in their motives. Animals are incredibly predictable. The rules are clear and engagement is simple.

The other thing is that an animal, specifically a pet, needs me. There is an obligation to care for it. If I disappeared, it wouldn't understand.

It wouldn't endeavor to harm me out of spite or hurt me for revenge.

They remind me of everything I am not.

Another Survey

OK first off, I apologize that this is going to be the second time I bombard you with something asking you to do something, but I recieved this email and I'd love to participate but I dropped out of the program before I even started. Oops. But it's an important study because I hated the UK mental health services.

Also it supports a charity!!

We are currently conducting a study which is looking at treatment experiences of people who have had eating disorders. The findings will improve our understanding of what treatments people are currently getting and how helpful they find them. The ultimate aim is to improve access to effective NHS treatments for everyone with eating disorders. We will donate £2 for every questionnaire completed to B-eat, the eating disorders charity, until our target of 130 completed questionnaires is reached.

We are looking for people to take part in the study who have received psychological therapy in the UK for bulimia nervosa or a binge-eating problem. If this applies to you, please click on the link below. If not, please forward this email on to as many people as possible. We know that eating disorders are often kept secret so you might not know which of your friends could help us - so circulating this email widely is likely to be the best way to help.

Taking part involves filling out an on-line questionnaire about your eating problems and treatment experiences, which can be accessed via this link:
http://www.b-eat.co.uk/Supportingbeat/ResearchRequests/BulimiaBingeEating

It should take 15-30 mins to complete, and we will be incredibly grateful for your help.

Here's the small print: The study is being conducted at UCL as part of Rachel van Schaick's doctoral thesis. The study has been approved by the Ethics Committee of University College London. To find out more about B-eat, the Eating Disorders Charity, or to make a donation, please visit http://www.b-eat.co.uk.

Many, many thanks,

Rachel van Schaick
Trainee Clinical Psychologist
Research Dept of Clinical, Educational & Health Psychology
University College London

Supervised by Lucy Serpell
Lecturer, Doctorate in Clinical Psychology Research Dept of Clinical, Educational & Health Psychology
University College London

Clinical Psychologist, Eating Disorder Service, North East London Foundation Trust

Real post soon my dearest readers. Don't abandon me!

An Outside Query

I've been asked to pass along the contents of a survey:

Hello. My name is Sheila and I am a college student working on a research project. My study focuses on girls and women who consider themselves to be pro-anorexic. I hope to better understand the users of online, pro-anorexia websites. If you are willing to participate, I would like to ask some questions about what this website means to you. I am not here to judge or make assumptions, but to simply gather information on a group that many know little about. All participation will be anonymous. Please use screen names that do not identify you in any way. If you are willing to participate, please post a reply to the following questions. If not, thank you for just taking the time to read this.

Questions:

1.) How did you first come to join this website and what keeps you participating in it?
2.) Do you consider others on this website to be your friends? What kinds of support do they give you?
3.) How does your family support -- or not support, --you?
4.) Are you closer to your friends who are online or to those who are offline? Why?
5.) Do you see a difference between anorexics, “anas,” and “rexies”? What term do you use to refer to yourself?

The researcher prefers to remain anonymous but if you have any questions, I believe she will be monitoring any comments and will respond to any concerns or questions in my comment form. I don't think I have to caution anyone here about protecting your identity (are we paranoid enough?) but be aware that anything you say may be published or widely disseminated.

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Actually, I've been meaning to mention that for some time now. Intellectual property on the internet is incredibly tricky. Basically, a good means to know whether your speech/writing is protected is via the website you are using. Is a username and password required to gain access to your work? If not, it's probably up for grabs (this includes artwork and photographs) and considered in the public domain. Just a thought.

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I'll write a proper post soon. I've had a visitor from the UK for two weeks so that's taken the bulk of my time! I've missed you all loads though. Can't wait to catch up.

Cheers,
Savory