Rambling and Writings 2

Another one of my entries on my computer that I thought I would add. Haven’t read it over so I apologize in advance if there is anything offensive in it. Who knows, maybe I will be embaressed when I read it later, lol!

August 27, 2009
I ended up satisfying my hunger by binging and purging.  Normally after I eat I tend to FEEL more. Tonight, my feelings were worse for some reason. I suddenly felt extremely sad, lonely, scared and vulnerable. I feel so sad I could almost cry. Not sure what I am sad about. And the loneliness is terrifying. When all is silent, the TV off, no music or book to take me to a faraway place, these emotions grow stronger. That’s how it was for me tonight. I now sort of get why I restrict. Restricting allows me not to feel these emotions and instead focuses my mind on one thing, FOOD—–to eat or not to eat. My life is simple that way, not at all scary and way easier to deal with. 
I don’t like feeling lonely. I notice when my hubby is here and I eat, I don’t feel as scared, guilty or lonely. But when he’s gone I sure feel it. I start thinking about life, the time that has come and gone, and all my regrets. I also start to feel sad about time, how I will never be able to get all those moments in the past back and how I miss them now. Then I think about my kids as babies and how they are growing up so fast and that makes me sad. Did I actually enjoy those moments in the past as much as I should have? No. I just rushed through life like I am doing now. But what am I rushing to———-the END. And why? I only have one life to live, only so many days on this earth and I don’t even know when my last day will be. Why the big hurry? Why can’t I just slow down, treasure each moment, knowing that the clock is ticking and those seconds can never come back? No amount of money or pleading or wishing can bring back time. I have so many regrets. I wish I could just cherish the life, the body and everything that God has given me. But it’s so hard. So hard to love myself.
When I allow myself to think about who I am and what I am worth I think of my real mom who left me when I was three. Being a mom now, I just can’t understand how she could just up and leave and not feel so sad that she would come running back. Was I bad, unlovable? I feel so sad for that little girl that was me. I start to think of how my daughter might feel if I were to leave and I know she would be devastated. Then I imagine me as her and I feel heartbroken. I always tried to be loved by my step mom but never really felt any love in return. I just remember being jealous of my step sisters that they got to have their real mom with them who would hug and kiss them every day. All I got was a step mom whom I felt never liked me, rather hated the sight and sound of me. I got my yearly visit with my real mom which I always anticipated with joy and longing. These were my special times with my mom. Just for me and my brothers. It felt good to have her, if only for a few days. I felt like I was living in a whole different world, like I was leading a whole different life. But then I would always have to go back home. I remember feeling so sad for weeks on end. I would just cry non-stop, looking out over the mountains and thinking my mom is just there over that mountain. I would sit and stare and cry. Sometimes my brother would cry with me. He was my rock, my connection to her, to my mom. We were one. Then when he moved out, my world fell apart. That’s where the cutting started, the overdoses, the deep intense feelings of what I can’t describe. When he left, I truly felt all alone in the big scary world in my big scary house with my big scary step mom. He was the only thing that linked me to my mom. He shared my feelings, he understood my pain, he comforted me just by being there…Without him, I was lost in a sea of emotions that I didn’t know how to handle. My parents were too busy and too ignorant to even try to understand why I felt so sad every time I came back from my mom’s. In fact, they would even get mad at me for feeling so sad for so long. My dad always tried to tell me how much he did for us kids. He always made me feel guilty for loving my mom and not hating her for leaving me. But I did and still do love her no matter that she left.