Four to go........

There were other relationships here and there, all of which were abusive in one way or another. Maybe the person I was with wasn't abusing me, but really me abusing myself.  I dated one person who was a drug addict.  He was a genuinely nice guy, he just had a problem. I was abusing myself by believing that I could cure him, abusing myself in putting up with all of his drug fueled antics.  Those relationships really aren't much of a conversation piece, because it all leads to the fact that I was an emotional cutter without the actual cutting...if that makes sense. 

After I sent the last winner packing, I was on a roll.  My job was going really well I was making really good money for my age and I didn't have many bills to pay....I was set really.  Except now I had turned to food, it was my new best friend.  People who struggle with addiction usually say the same things about their drug of choice.  The same can be said of food addiction.  I hadn't hit rock bottom or anything but I was in the middle of my addiction.  The beauty of being addicted to food is that it all tastes so dang good! This is going to sound so cliche but I ate my feelings. 

Every emotion was cause for eating, and boy was I good at it. I was an equal opportunity eater. In the midst of the eating I would go through bouts of hating myself for gaining weight, so I would go on one fad diet or another, I would see results from the get go, get excited and feel like it was OK for me to have something that wasn't on my diet.....from that point it was just a downward spiral of gaining all the weight back plus some.  It continued like that until I would hit a plateau.   During all of this I had gone to the doctor because I was always tired and never seemed to have energy to do anything, was either angry at everything or crying at anything.  I figured I needed to find out what was going on. Usually before you see anyone there is this painfully boring  little questionnaire to fill out asking about your health history.    I marked all the appropriate boxes and then got to the mental history........

Am I the only person out there that sometimes has no clue on how to answer some of the questions...like has anyone in your family ever had...insert weird random health problem, and I'm like, well my great great great great grandfathers uncle's nephew had that, so do I mark it??!!

I had heard things about my family, but nothing was ever confirmed.....or really denied for that matter. I had heard through the grapevine that depression ran in my family, so I said what the heck, I'll mark it yes and then talk to the doctor about it.  After getting labs done and ruling out that it was health related, the doc put me on Prozac.  I was also told by doc that it may help with weight loss since my moods would be more regulated.  Woohoo!! 


After being on the meds for a while, I hadn't noticed any change but everyone around me noticed a big change.  When one of my co-workers had mentioned that I seemed happier, I made it a point to track my own changes, and I was surprised at what I found. Things didn't make me angry instantly, I didn't cry at every little thing, like someone looking at me cock-eyed.  I was actually happy for the first time in a very long time....or was I??  Was I genuinely happy or was it the medication sending me to happy land??.....

I struggled with that question for months. I enjoyed feeling more like 'myself' but couldn't shake the feeling that somehow I was turning into a sort of happy zombie.  Whatever the answer I wasn't ready to stop taking the meds just yet, I wasn't done being happy.  Chugging along my yellow brick road, I didn't experience any weight loss....I had hoped it would happen but the bottom line was doc never said it would happen, just that it might.   In order to loose weight you have to eat the right things, exercise ..yadda..yadda...yadda....the problem with that is, I was happy....and I was enjoying food for the taste and experience, not because I had nothing better to do. 

I had a conversation with a friend of mine a few years back and we were discussing our food likes and whatnots, she is a sweets lover and I am a salty lover. I can pass up a brownie any day of the week for a box of french fries. Don't get me wrong, I do like sweets too, because as I said I am an Equal Opportunity eater, I just prefer fried foods, breads, pastas...all the yummy starch filled goodies! 


So how does this all involve my daddy issues and addiction?? When you break it down it really is so simple.  My father is an alcoholic,  the only thing that really matters to him is his drug of choice, not his family or the destruction of said family.  I was rejected by him.  From the gate I felt like I wasn't good enough for my own daddy, why would I be good enough for anyone else??