The last few weeks.

I was at my local library when I saw the book called Confronting Abuse. I thought it might help so I snuck it into a pile of other books and set them on the counter. I'm not ready to go public about this yet. I brought the book home and hit it in my office fully intending to read it and solve all my problems. Well I didnt even open it and after renewing it a few weeks it is in a pile ready to go back to the library uncracked. Just the presence of this book has haunted me. It has mocked me and my efforts to heal. Why does it have to be so dificult? Why isn't there a magic button that removes all memories and the emotional storms that come with this? I hate being a victim. I wish it never happened to me or anyone else. :(

Hitting HIM

My teen was in a fight and in response to the situation we are learning some fighting techniques in my martial arts class. While my instructor doesnt know the details (few do) he knows I was in a "bad relationship" We were doing a jab and then a reverse punch with my instructor holding "bags". I again was doing okay untill he wanted to see more power and he said picture HIS face. I stopped and FROZE again! AARRGGHH! Then as he talked to me I began to punch HARD again and again. I punched until I began to cry. He let me know it was okay and I took a moment to compose myself.

Some of you who might read this sometime will wonder why I allow this to happen. I want the demons exorcised. I want to know that if i face someone who looks like him or reminds me of him or some one who has the ability to take my power I dont want to freeze. I want to show power and be able to defend myself. I want to recover my color.

conquering my fear through sparring.

Friday evening I went to my martial arts class. We warmed up and then practiced kicks and hits with a freestanding punching bag. Then my instructor had me come up and spar.

I was feeling pretty good and I felt I was doing well until he said "Picture him." That blew my confidence and resolve. As soon as I had HIM facing me in my head I wimped out. What a blow to my confidence. I couldn't concentrate. The panic welling in my chest was something I struggled to calm enough to function.

I hate it! I hate that the memory of him incapacitates me. I hate that my memories are marred by my past and I hope that if I ever face an oponent I don't freeze letting myself become a victim again. Last time I was too young to defend myelf. This time I fear, fear itself, that it will freeze me into inaction.

However, as uncomfortable as sparring with HIM in my head I know that it will do me good. Hopefully, this will make me stronger and someday I will conquer my fear and be able to move on.

Getting Physical

As I sit here with my knees aching and my stomach muscles sore I think it is a good time to discuss physical activity. Just a few hours ago my family and I went to a martial arts class. Karate to be exact. I started to take this class a couple of months ago because a friend had started taking one in her town. It sounded interesting and I thought it would be cool to earn the belts and learn to use some weapons. I completely underestimated the amount of work this class entails. I warm up for about 15 minutes then I work out for a solid hour or more.

My instructor, a second degree black belt is the kindest guy. He is totally understanding of my weight and lack of endurance. He is also a large supporter of women and girls learning self defence. Wednesday we spared with him and he completely understood my problem with facing a MALE in a spar situation. He worked with me gently and slowly, and built my confidence. After a few minutes I was feeling much more confident.

In my opinion martial arts has been extremely beneficial and not in just a physical way. I have lost thirty pounds since I started. For the first time in a long time I want to exercise, I want to go to Karate, I want to get out on the floor and practice and learn new things. I hate to miss class. It has improved my self image alot.

The best benefit of the class however, is in my head. As I am learning a skill and exercising and enjoying it I am also learning to defend myself. I am learning to take care of me. I am learning that it is okay to do something for me and for me only. I am begining to take controll. I am regaining myself.

Conquering my eating disorder. . .

I am a feeder. I love food. I am also a medicated eater. I have a huge appetite and can eat a ton unfortunately. While I have strugled to controll what I put in my mouth I have learned a few things. I'll get to them in a minute.

While reading blogs I came across a blog where the author talked about her love of food and that she was going to put herself on a 12 step program for food. WOW I thought, I wish I could do that. As I have thought about it I have realized that while I don't have a full on addiction I have been dependant on food as a mood altering substance. AND, while you can live without things like alcohol and drugs, you can't live without food.

So as I have aproached food lately I have asked myself do I NEED to eat this? Am I really hungry? Am I eating because I just woke up? Or it's lunch time? Or I am feeding the kids? If the answer is no, then I try not to eat it. I am also finding that as I exercise, I am not as hungry. I have ben able to walk away from my plate without feeling full. Not hungry anymore, but not full. I have also given myself a new rule in the aftermath of a relapse . (See I'm not perfect at this at all.)

ONLY ONE SERVING!!!!!

The good news is that with exercise, (a topic for a next post) and my new attitude about food i have lost THIRTY pounds. See I am shedding that big girl skin.

308. . .

Standing in the triage room of the local clinic, I do not feel well. I know I am sick, so I take myself to get an antibiotic. She gestures to the scale and the fear hits me. I don't like scales, never have, they represent failure to me. I step on hoping that I have lost something even though I know I haven't. I look down and see a number I have never seen, 308. Dread hits my gut, I have never been over 300 untill now. If i wasn't feeling so sick i would have cried right there.

I know part of it is me but I also know that alot of it is my abuse. This is why. I am a theraputic eater. I medicate myself by eating. When I'm sad, I eat, when I'm stressed, I eat. When I am depressed, angry, ect. etc. etc.. I am also rebeling against a mother who has been anorexic or some other form of eating disorder her whole life. The woman who put me on a diet at the age of ten when I didnt need to be. I remember feling like I was starving and I began to sneak food at that point in time. Another reason is that as I gained the weight I have been able to draw men's attention away from me, from my body. THEREFORE, MAKING ME UNATTRACTIVE TO MY ABUSER . Or any other guy who makes me feel uncomfortable.

As an overweight person I have been able to get through life without feeling like I am an object with breasts. I have been able to fade into the background. I have been able to disappear.

Unfortunately, the weight has realy effected my health as well as my relationship with my spouse. But I am changing, I am freeing myself from the scared little girl in the big girls skin. I will someday be able to shed the big girls skin and just be myself hopefully, someday.

I'll address the ways I am in other posts because they have emotional attachments too.

Where this began.

A few years ago I suffered severe post partum depression after a dificult birth and a baby born with a birth defect. As I began to climb out of the pit that had been my life for so long; I began to realize that alot of the depression was not just a severe form of baby blues. That my past abuse darkened everything in my life even when I thought I had exorcised the ghosts a long time ago. I began to realize that things I strugle with, my weight, my self image, my dificultys with my spouse, are from the seven years of incest at HIS hands.

I've read the books. I've suppressed it untill it was eating me like ACID from the inside. I feel sorry for my children and my spouse who are as much victims of this as I am because of the reprecussions over 20 years later.

I was given one piece of advice that seems to be working in small ammounts. ACCEPT IT. Accept the horror and accept who you are and learn to move on. To love yourself inspite of your past. To look forward to the future when the pain is gone.

I am trying, I am working on it, I will survive.

AARGH! I'm thinking I am a chicken

I had an idea, a therapy of sorts, but as time has passed I am begining to freak. Pull yourself together I say, and begin to type. Heaven help me to get through what I know I must do.