I have always had an unhealthy relationship with food. I remember binge eating after my mother died. My step mother was always restricting what we ate. She put my younger sister and I on the Atkins Diet, the sugar-free diet and several other diets. I hated that shit! I was just a kid. I remember my little sister and I raiding the kitchen for SOMETHING that might taste good when she was busy or taking a nap after church on Sunday. My sister called this activity S.A.S., or sneaking a snack.
We were allowed to visit our Grandmother once a week on Thursday nights. On Thursday after school, she would pick us up and take us to Burger King. We would sometimes spend Saturdays with her too. Woo Hoo!!! Now i could get some real food! She kept the pantry stocked with whatever we wanted. All we had to do was write it on the list. I would have a whole box of cereal for breakfast, a hamburger, a half a can of pringles, an extra tall glass of strawberry milk, and a Hershey bar for dessert. Dinner was fried chicken from Popeye's or another hamburger. By the time I finished the 4th grade, I was 5'5" and 150 lbs. I do not blame my Grandmother for letting her Grand babies indulge. This is how I mourned for my mother. I binge ate and ate and ate.
My mother was a teacher. She taught at Jeanerette Middle School before she passed away. She did not always have time to cook a meal for us, so the majority of the time we would just grab something to eat on our way home. I wasn't used to anything that did not come out of a box or a bag. When my dad re-married our step mother, every night it was something different for dinner. I did not like ANY of it. I remember the first time I was force-fed. She had enough of my pickyness and decided to MAKE me eat her cooking. I was just 9. She took the fork out of my hand, grabbed my face with her other hand and shoved a fork full of white beans and rice into my mouth, laughing every time I gagged as I tried to swallow it. She force-fed me bite after bite until my plate was clean. She did it again and again. One time I remember she had reheated some vegetable soup for lunch, she had just made me eat it the night before and I was pissed. I was SICK OF HER FOOD! I was 11 years old and she was still force feeding me. So she fed me the fucking soup. I quietly walked to the bathroom and purged myself clean of her god damn vegetable soup. Form that day forward I ate whatever she put in front of me, but I purged that shit right out of my body after every meal.
Purging also came in handy when i would visit my grandmother's. I would eat until I was almost ill and then purge so I could go and eat some more. When I was about 13 I discovered Laxatives. I would drink milk of magnesia. Whatever I couldn't get out by vomiting would come out the other way. I would fake like i was constipated and have my grandma buy the laxatives for me. I was very sick and nobody knew. When I was 14, I remember looking down at my hips and was disgusted if my hip bones wouldn't stick out far enough. I would do 1000 plus sit ups a day. I would lay flat on my back and suck my stomach in so that more and more of my ribs would show. I became obsessed with my weight.
The first person to find out about my eating disorder was my sister -in-law. Somehow she had convinced my step mother to let me stay with her and my step brother after we had come back to LA for my step grandmother's funeral. We went grocery shopping and I asked her to buy me laxatives. She got them for me but she told my brother about it and we had a talk. I don't remember if I admitted to them or not that I was using them to lose weight, but they knew and watched me like a hawk for the rest of my stay.
I continued to purge until I was almost 18. One day I was purging myself before I went to bed and my throat started to bleed. I kept jamming my fingers down my throat because I was sure there was more food in my stomach, but it just wouldn't come out. Now my knuckles were bleeding from rubbing against my teeth so hard and I still kept on. When I saw the drops of blood fall from my mouth and hit the toilet seat something in my head told me to stop. So I stopped and put my head on the toilet seat and sobbed for a good hour. I prayed and asked God why I hated my body so much. I asked him why he had let this horrible woman come into my life and screw up my judgements. He didn't answer any of my questions but when I got up and washed my face off and brushed my teeth, I looked into the mirror and felt relief. He gave me the courage I needed to decide that this was the end of my disease. I was going to stop. It took a little time and work but I quit purging. After that day I stopped obsessing about my weight. He took that obsession away.
When I delivered my daughter, I was 230lbs. Now, I am a good 200 lbs and don't feel very comfortable in my new body. I want to lose the weight in a healthy way and I will. I have not once thought about purging.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Home Schooling
In this entry, I want to elaborate on home schooling. My younger sister and I were homeschooled for 5 years. If you read my first entry, you know that I cheated through the first year which was 5th grade. Well, to be honest, I half-assed it or just plain cheated my way through the 9th grade. THERE...I said it...I cheated my way through elementary school and never got caught! I really started to regret my decision to NOT GIVE A FUCK when I started the 10th grade at a public school. Needless to say, I started to GIVE A FUCK. It was too late tho. I had a 4.0 obviously, so when I registered for public school, my counselor suggested I take an advanced sicence and my dumb ass agreed to it. I barely passed physiology thanks to the grace of the good Lord and Mr. Lewis. The next year I took Physics. I got all the concepts but failed miserably at actually using the formulas because I was taking algebra 1 for the third year in a row and just could not get it. I switched schools mid year in the 11th grade and got pretty easy classes. I was placed in AP english which was passing, but talked my way out of almost every single assignment...(thank you Mr. Morace!). I moved back down to Louisiana the second semester of my senior year because I was tired of my dad and stepmom. I moved in with my grandma and began my last semester of highschol at Delcambre High. The only reason I graduated with my class(which by the way, were the same wonderful people I went to Kindergarden with) was because Delcambre still did their paperwork by hand. No computers or electronic filing. I watched Mrs. Penny VanBrocklin enter my credits that I trasnsfered with by hand. The only way she could get confirmation that I had actually took the classes was from my word. She finagled my transcript, I think added a credit or two and I walked with my new friends.
My highschool education suffered because I did not have a proper foundation to build on. Some would say that thats my fault for NOT GIVING A FUCK. What 5th grader actually GIVES A FUCK about geometry or whatever they learn in 5th grade since I havn't a clue.
My point is this:
When God gives you the gift of parenthood, He holds YOU responsible for that child's education. To hand over that responsibility to anyone else is a decision you must make carefully. My parents handed that decision over to me. I was 9 and didn't take my education seriously until it was too late. That was my parent's fault and they are responsible, no matter which way you slice it. When it comes time to make the decision about how Maggie will recieve her education, I hope I am wise enough to make the right decisions and give her the preperation and knowledge she needs to successfully complete high school and college.
My highschool education suffered because I did not have a proper foundation to build on. Some would say that thats my fault for NOT GIVING A FUCK. What 5th grader actually GIVES A FUCK about geometry or whatever they learn in 5th grade since I havn't a clue.
My point is this:
When God gives you the gift of parenthood, He holds YOU responsible for that child's education. To hand over that responsibility to anyone else is a decision you must make carefully. My parents handed that decision over to me. I was 9 and didn't take my education seriously until it was too late. That was my parent's fault and they are responsible, no matter which way you slice it. When it comes time to make the decision about how Maggie will recieve her education, I hope I am wise enough to make the right decisions and give her the preperation and knowledge she needs to successfully complete high school and college.
My first entry...a lot of background
I have suffered from severe bipolar disorder and ADHD for as long as I can remember. In my early adolescent years the symptoms became more noticeable and began to have an effect on my behavior. These are some of the things I have experienced in my childhood and may have triggered the symptoms I have to deal with every day. I am not writing this to vent or rant about how unfair or miserable my growing up years were. I am writing this because I know somewhere there is someone who can relate to my experiences. Believe me, I wish I had read something like this when I was younger. I would have not felt so alone and powerless.
My childhood was was interesting to put it nicely. I lost my mother when I was only 8 years old. Almost immediately after my mother passed away( 10 days shy of the 4 month anniversary of her death), my father became engaged and was remarried the same year. My father met his newly betrothed at church. So...of course, his new little family must be members of this church, and good members attend church every time the doors are open. Church was our new lifestyle and my little sister and I had no choice but to like it. The doctrine the church taught was a non-denominational doctrine that included "speaking in tongues" and being "slain in the spirit." If you have ever visited a church like this, you were sure to never forget it. When the preacher prays for you, you know he really did a good job if you were so filled with the holy ghost you fell flat on your back. Everyone who was a Christian was expected to be baptized and receive the "gift of the holy spirit" (to speak in tongues). This so called gift, was basically someone babbling a bunch of made up words in a sing-songy voice. It was not looked at as unusual for someone to randomly burst out in this "holy language" during prayer or even the sermon. At first, I thought that this new church was fun. Anywhere it was ok to run around, shout out nonsense, and lift your hands up in the air anytime you wanted was ok in my book! I don't want to offend the people who attend this kind of church or believe that this crazy shit is actually holy, but the leaders of the church who accepted my mother's insurance money, and paid off THEIR BUILDING DEBT....they paid for the cherry wood desks in each of the pastor's offices and the pretty new chairs in the sanctuary and God knows what else...you have dishonored my mother. I still cannot believe that these people who claim to be ministers of God's word actually accepted this money my father gave to them in a state of tragic loss and mourning. I guess all of those sermons about tithing and offerings paid off. I wonder if any of that money was given to charity or was used to help those in true need? It disgusts me. I didn't know this until a few years ago. After the fun of going to church faded and getting up and putting a itchy dress and nylons on got to be annoying, I began to really give this new church and its philosophies some thought, I began to remember the things my mother had told me over and over again. She planted the seeds of curiosity and that was enough to get my little wheels turning and eventually come to the conclusion that this church and its extreme doctrine was not what God had in mind for his people when he created us and this beautiful world that surrounds us.
Good, church going, tongues speaking, bible thumping families, send their offspring to private school! So off my little sister and I went. I honestly found the curriculum boring. Phonics??? My mother taught me phonics when I was 3 years old. One day, my teacher took me aside and told me that I was reading too fast for the other kids to follow along. I never had the chance to really appreciate the private school education because my step mother and father decided to pull my little sister and I out of school altogether and home school us. How great was that idea???!!! Now I wouldn't have to wake up early, wear an uncomfortable uniform, or eat cafeteria food ever again!!! I was really excited. My step mother ordered the books, videos and some school supplies and we started the school year early! Every day there was a video of a teacher we were supposed to watch and we were to follow along in our school books. My little sister and I had no oversight from our step mother. She didn't ask us if we needed any help or even asked to see our work at the end of our day. She was under the impression that the curriculum was "self-taught" and there was no need for her be involved. Well.....with no supervision and no accountability my sister and I devised a plan to go over our book work quickly, obtain the teacher's editions of our books so we could 'check our work' and copy the answers as fast as we could, and fast forward the video's of our douche bag teachers. So we did it for the first time. Not so hard! Our step mom didn't even suspect anything. So we cheated our way through the first year of home school. It was pretty easy and my sister and I had perfected our system so even if you looked at our tests and daily assignments the untrained eye would never guess that we did not learn ANYTHING that day or the entire year. My little sister and I were the sneakiest little cheaters. I will elaborate more later on homeschooling and how it should have been for us and If I chose to home school, how I would do it.
Soon after the decision to home school was made, my stepmother discovered "the home school group" The group was made up of all the home schooled families in New Iberia and the surrounding cities. The kids were for the most part nice, and really, really, really smart. I guess when the parent is actually involved with their child's education, it shows. The home school group held meetings once a month, and had activities planed through out the school year. The best activity EVER was ice skating. I would skate my little heart out once a week and would not get off the ice unless i had to go to the bathroom really bad. Soon after we joined the home school group, my step mother made a new friend. She was short, loud, had about 5 kids, and was really mean. I guess my step mother saw how submissive and obedient her kids were and began to wonder what was wrong with her two new daughters. Well, when this woman came to our house for the first time, she recommended that all of the pictures of our mother, even the ones in our bedrooms be removed. She was convinced that the reason for our "rebellion" was that we did not see our step mother as our "new mother'. She even had the audacity to have a family meeting with us and told my step mother to explain to us that these beautiful pictures of our MOTHER, the person who gave birth to us, were going to be taken down and destroyed. I was in shock. I was fired up and started begging my step mother not to take these precious photographs away from us. I then got a "spanking" for my attitude and for questioning authority. I have never forgiven my father for allowing this.
This new friend of our step mother, became my enemy. She encouraged my step mother to be a tough disciplinarian. She gave her a book named after a bible verse, "Train up a child in the way he should go." This book interpreted the word "train", and explained that a child should be trained in the same way a horse or donkey should be trained: by beating the shit out of them. So, my stepmother wanted to have little robot children much like her friends and put this book and its philosophy into practice. She now had reason to believe that we were disobedient children filled with the demonic spirit of rebellion. We got "spanked" every single day several times a day. She would make sure that we knew that we had been disobedient and rebellious and because of our attitude, we were to be spanked, while on our knees, on our bare bottom, with a wooden dowel stick until she felt we had become submissive. We couldn't escape it. We got spanked sometimes just for a silly look. If we did anything to give her even the idea that we had rebellious thoughts in our head she believed we were to be beat into submission. Just like an animal. She was even convinced that my little sister was possessed by a demon spirit and had the minister of our church over to anoint her room and pray over her. My poor little sister. She was such a sweet, fun loving kid. My father and step mother beat the sweetness right out of her. Hers is a whole different story.
I know I sound like a bitter bitch who cannot let go of the past. If you know me, you know that is not the case. Even though I am Bipolar, allot of the people who have known me would never guess. Only my closest friends, my older step brother and sister in law knew that i had an eating disorder. I understood, even at 8 years old, that this was not the way things should be. I knew that my father and step mother had really gone off of the deep end and I believe in my heart that my father is truly sorry for his poor judgements. I was only 8 years old but I have fond memories of my mother. She was not perfect, and as I become older, my older brother lets me know more and more about how unhappy my mother was and the demons she struggled with. In my eyes, she was absolutely perfect and an amazing demonstration of unconditional love. She was allot of things through out her life and fought many battles with herself and with those who loved her, but all she was to me was Mom. I am a mother now and I love my daughter with that same unconditional love my own mother showed me. She is a constant reminder that my life is worth living, no matter how difficult. God gave this life to ME. He gave me the most beautiful gift, the same gift he gave to my mother 23 years ago, a daughter.
My childhood was was interesting to put it nicely. I lost my mother when I was only 8 years old. Almost immediately after my mother passed away( 10 days shy of the 4 month anniversary of her death), my father became engaged and was remarried the same year. My father met his newly betrothed at church. So...of course, his new little family must be members of this church, and good members attend church every time the doors are open. Church was our new lifestyle and my little sister and I had no choice but to like it. The doctrine the church taught was a non-denominational doctrine that included "speaking in tongues" and being "slain in the spirit." If you have ever visited a church like this, you were sure to never forget it. When the preacher prays for you, you know he really did a good job if you were so filled with the holy ghost you fell flat on your back. Everyone who was a Christian was expected to be baptized and receive the "gift of the holy spirit" (to speak in tongues). This so called gift, was basically someone babbling a bunch of made up words in a sing-songy voice. It was not looked at as unusual for someone to randomly burst out in this "holy language" during prayer or even the sermon. At first, I thought that this new church was fun. Anywhere it was ok to run around, shout out nonsense, and lift your hands up in the air anytime you wanted was ok in my book! I don't want to offend the people who attend this kind of church or believe that this crazy shit is actually holy, but the leaders of the church who accepted my mother's insurance money, and paid off THEIR BUILDING DEBT....they paid for the cherry wood desks in each of the pastor's offices and the pretty new chairs in the sanctuary and God knows what else...you have dishonored my mother. I still cannot believe that these people who claim to be ministers of God's word actually accepted this money my father gave to them in a state of tragic loss and mourning. I guess all of those sermons about tithing and offerings paid off. I wonder if any of that money was given to charity or was used to help those in true need? It disgusts me. I didn't know this until a few years ago. After the fun of going to church faded and getting up and putting a itchy dress and nylons on got to be annoying, I began to really give this new church and its philosophies some thought, I began to remember the things my mother had told me over and over again. She planted the seeds of curiosity and that was enough to get my little wheels turning and eventually come to the conclusion that this church and its extreme doctrine was not what God had in mind for his people when he created us and this beautiful world that surrounds us.
Good, church going, tongues speaking, bible thumping families, send their offspring to private school! So off my little sister and I went. I honestly found the curriculum boring. Phonics??? My mother taught me phonics when I was 3 years old. One day, my teacher took me aside and told me that I was reading too fast for the other kids to follow along. I never had the chance to really appreciate the private school education because my step mother and father decided to pull my little sister and I out of school altogether and home school us. How great was that idea???!!! Now I wouldn't have to wake up early, wear an uncomfortable uniform, or eat cafeteria food ever again!!! I was really excited. My step mother ordered the books, videos and some school supplies and we started the school year early! Every day there was a video of a teacher we were supposed to watch and we were to follow along in our school books. My little sister and I had no oversight from our step mother. She didn't ask us if we needed any help or even asked to see our work at the end of our day. She was under the impression that the curriculum was "self-taught" and there was no need for her be involved. Well.....with no supervision and no accountability my sister and I devised a plan to go over our book work quickly, obtain the teacher's editions of our books so we could 'check our work' and copy the answers as fast as we could, and fast forward the video's of our douche bag teachers. So we did it for the first time. Not so hard! Our step mom didn't even suspect anything. So we cheated our way through the first year of home school. It was pretty easy and my sister and I had perfected our system so even if you looked at our tests and daily assignments the untrained eye would never guess that we did not learn ANYTHING that day or the entire year. My little sister and I were the sneakiest little cheaters. I will elaborate more later on homeschooling and how it should have been for us and If I chose to home school, how I would do it.
Soon after the decision to home school was made, my stepmother discovered "the home school group" The group was made up of all the home schooled families in New Iberia and the surrounding cities. The kids were for the most part nice, and really, really, really smart. I guess when the parent is actually involved with their child's education, it shows. The home school group held meetings once a month, and had activities planed through out the school year. The best activity EVER was ice skating. I would skate my little heart out once a week and would not get off the ice unless i had to go to the bathroom really bad. Soon after we joined the home school group, my step mother made a new friend. She was short, loud, had about 5 kids, and was really mean. I guess my step mother saw how submissive and obedient her kids were and began to wonder what was wrong with her two new daughters. Well, when this woman came to our house for the first time, she recommended that all of the pictures of our mother, even the ones in our bedrooms be removed. She was convinced that the reason for our "rebellion" was that we did not see our step mother as our "new mother'. She even had the audacity to have a family meeting with us and told my step mother to explain to us that these beautiful pictures of our MOTHER, the person who gave birth to us, were going to be taken down and destroyed. I was in shock. I was fired up and started begging my step mother not to take these precious photographs away from us. I then got a "spanking" for my attitude and for questioning authority. I have never forgiven my father for allowing this.
This new friend of our step mother, became my enemy. She encouraged my step mother to be a tough disciplinarian. She gave her a book named after a bible verse, "Train up a child in the way he should go." This book interpreted the word "train", and explained that a child should be trained in the same way a horse or donkey should be trained: by beating the shit out of them. So, my stepmother wanted to have little robot children much like her friends and put this book and its philosophy into practice. She now had reason to believe that we were disobedient children filled with the demonic spirit of rebellion. We got "spanked" every single day several times a day. She would make sure that we knew that we had been disobedient and rebellious and because of our attitude, we were to be spanked, while on our knees, on our bare bottom, with a wooden dowel stick until she felt we had become submissive. We couldn't escape it. We got spanked sometimes just for a silly look. If we did anything to give her even the idea that we had rebellious thoughts in our head she believed we were to be beat into submission. Just like an animal. She was even convinced that my little sister was possessed by a demon spirit and had the minister of our church over to anoint her room and pray over her. My poor little sister. She was such a sweet, fun loving kid. My father and step mother beat the sweetness right out of her. Hers is a whole different story.
I know I sound like a bitter bitch who cannot let go of the past. If you know me, you know that is not the case. Even though I am Bipolar, allot of the people who have known me would never guess. Only my closest friends, my older step brother and sister in law knew that i had an eating disorder. I understood, even at 8 years old, that this was not the way things should be. I knew that my father and step mother had really gone off of the deep end and I believe in my heart that my father is truly sorry for his poor judgements. I was only 8 years old but I have fond memories of my mother. She was not perfect, and as I become older, my older brother lets me know more and more about how unhappy my mother was and the demons she struggled with. In my eyes, she was absolutely perfect and an amazing demonstration of unconditional love. She was allot of things through out her life and fought many battles with herself and with those who loved her, but all she was to me was Mom. I am a mother now and I love my daughter with that same unconditional love my own mother showed me. She is a constant reminder that my life is worth living, no matter how difficult. God gave this life to ME. He gave me the most beautiful gift, the same gift he gave to my mother 23 years ago, a daughter.
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