Wednesday, November 10, 2010


So I was really happy earlier.
My daughter came home and all that changed. She got Red today again.
This time though the answer my husband gave me rang suspiciously. He said my daughter was misbehaving because we were arguing, It could be she is acting out, but its the way he said it just sounds like a sneaky double sense.
"She says mommy and daddy argue too much and she doesn't care anymore." he looks really pissed as he's telling me this.
Oh boy here we go.
This always happens, when he sees that I am happy he looks for a reason to start a fight.
So my daughter is on punishment, all her homework has to get done, no TV today and she has one hour time out on her bed, quiet time.
While I'm helping her with her homework, my husband is working out in the other room undisturbed. I'm upset and worried. I start to talk to her about what arguments mean and how they have no merit and basically smoothing thing things over. I want her to just be okay. She talks back quietly to me and I don't know if any of this is making any kind of sense to her. I sigh in defeat, I hope I'm not screwing her up.
 After every thing's done I decided to make my daughter do lines, or rather write her sight words over and over quietly at the desk while I go workout. Now my husband wants to come and parent after I've done all the hard work. I'm on the treadmill and turning the volume up on the Ipod as far as it will go to drown out his voice. He is talking sternly to her and I hate it. Every mom feels the same way, while I can be hard with her and feel bad for it later, I can't stand someone else talking to her that way. I ignore it.
When she's all done with her lines he feeds her dinner and then sneaks her extra dessert which she's not allowed. Its like he purposely sets me up to be the monster that says No.
He is such a trigger my god, this man will be the death of me.
I finally am done with the workout which was just half assed because I'm irritable. My daughter is done with her time and she's allowed to play quietly in her room.
Now comes the talk..
We try to talk quietly, or rather I talk and he doesn't listen.
The same things are said over and over, I'm so tired of having this same argument- we need to split up. When we're together its no good, I'm no good.
Separately my daughter can thrive and so can I. He says that I am being selfish and I won't make it on my own. He says I'll come crawling back to him and he's going to turn me away. Then he proceeds to tell me to hurry up and get a job so he can leave. I intend to.
First I need my therapy, I need my meds. Once I have that I can function again and properly hold down a good job.
He starts the begging again and the why can't we work it out; Let me make amends speech. I'm tired of hearing it. I tell him the more he makes me feel bad, the more triggered I am, the more I hurt myself.
In one ear and out the other with him. So finally he gets fed up and leaves to the store, I know he's off to get a bottle. So what do I do as my chest aches from anxiety? I b/p.

Epic Fail!

You stupid, stupid girl.
Now I feel really low and sad. The binge was very small by my standards and it was rushed. The purge was forced and incredibly hard to bring back up. My chest is sprained again. I ache and my heart is racing. My god, this thing is going to kill me one day. I'm tired of Mia, I'm tired of hurting myself.
I'm tired of failing.
Tomorrow he is off again, and my daughter has no school. I can't even begin to tell you how bad the day is going to look. So now I've weighed because I'm just continuing to be a fuck up and of course its waaaaay up due to the binge and the water and tea and banana and I can't remember what else.
Dam I was doing so well.
My sister tells me to cheer up, that I'll be okay. I know I will. I was on my own for a year once with my daughter, I did what I could and we're good now. I can do it again. I'll be fine there, I have support this time so I feel as though it will be different but not impossible.
 That's not what makes me sad.
Why I'm sad is because the willpower is dwindling, the control I had on Mia is gone. She's not helping me anymore, now she's become an obstacle. A barricade in my way. I turn to her to hurt myself and it does hurt and I hate it. I hate that it stops me from losing, from feeling good, from trying a different way to live.
That's what kills me, that I'm going less and less days without being able to know what Ana feels like anymore.
Now he's back home and drinking, nothing phases him. I'm locked in the bathroom the only room I can be alone. I feel so depressed now.
Days without Bulimia- zero..
Why can't I have one day where I can be happy?
When will it be my turn?


marsh.sara said...

im not a mother but i think youre doing a great job. fathers do tend to be on the more agressive side, which is expected. dont punish or hurt yourself because of what someone else is doing. we all already hurt ourselves wayy too much to make room for others. good luck and stay stong my love. were all here any time of the day, if you ever need it. :)

oh and p.s. thanks a zillion for posting the lnks for wasted and wintergirls. ive been frantically searching for weeks