The Struggle with Food

 Most of my life I have struggled with food.  As you look at me you would see a person who looks like they have no problem with it. I am a very plus size person and many people do not have find my attractive due to my size.  That is a whole other story and blog for another time.  Food has never been a friend of mine. It has always been an enemy.

Starting from a young age I can remember the struggle with food.  I thought it started when I was when in middle school.  As I was talking to a friend of mine recently, I discovered, it went much deeper than middle school.  The fight with food started when I was about 8 years old.  When I was just in 2nd grade.  

I was put in counseling in second grade because I could not say the word "fat".  I would spell f-a-t.  I would not say the world.  It took me forever before I could say just the word.  Not only was that the issue, but my mother also put me on a diet.  I remember sitting at my desk with a large bottle of water.  I was told I needed to drink water.  If I drank water and exercised, it would help me.  So, I did that.  That is when I started weight watchers.  I was just in 2nd grade.  I was already put on a diet. I remember weighing in with my mom and going to meetings.  Maybe I am remembering wrong.  That is a possibility.  What I do remember is I was told not to drink my water because I went to the bathroom too much by a substitute teacher.  I had to stop drinking.  Maybe that is where my hatred for water comes from.

As I grew older the bulling never stopped.  I was bullied for being overweight.  Even into my adulthood I have been bullied because of it.  I would go into my kitchen as a pre-teen and grab an apple.  I was told I was eating too much food.  By the time I was in high school I ran two miles a day and ate on meal.  No, that is not good for your system.  I did it anyway.  I didn't know what else to do.  

By the time adulthood rolled around I could days without eating.  I would eat just one meal.  After I got married it wasn't any better.  My husband at the time had shoved pizza down my throat literally because I struggled to eat in front of his family. It wasn't even that.  The longer I was married to him the worse it got for me with food. 

I remember one day we were eating at a restaurant, and I had to send my food back twice due to it not being made right.  By the time it was made correctly my family had already ate.  My then husband had the nerve to say "how are you still hungry?"  I ended up boxing up everything from my plate.  I was like, ok, I'm not.  Even though I was hungry.  It didn't matter because my feelings, emotions, everything didn't match his. 

I was told how I needed to look by my ex husband.  One time I had ordered something from a local place.  I was told "wow, isn't that enough food?"  He made me feel like I shouldn't eat anything at all.  My whole marriage was made with snide comments like that.  I never had a break.  Food was never a safe thing for me. When I go home to Illinois to visit it was all about junk food or very small portions that my grandma would make me.  

I have had my family call me a fat ass during family time.  Maybe they were joking, but it hurt deeply.  That has made me not want to attend family functions most of the time when there has been a lot of people present. I have had some family look at me differently because I am overweight.  Yet, I am getting judged for something that I haven't always had control over.

Now, I work full time in an office.  There is around 15 of us when we are fully staffed, and everyone is there.  I have a hard time eating in front of my peers. No one in that office has ever looked down on me.  No one has ever said anything rude to me about my weight.  I never want to give them a reason to.  I just don't know if I can help myself.  Recently, I did eat in front of people in the office.  I got starred at while I was eating.  How does that make me want to eat at the office. 

What makes things worse right now is that my ex-husband is coming into town.  I am already freaking out.  He is due in around the 24th of May.  He will be here for our daughter's graduation.  I mean I am happy she will have him here.  I am not happy about the effect he is having on me.  I am already struggling to eat.  I am struggling to eat knowing he is coming into town.  I don't even know why.  I guess that just shows the abuse he has had on me.  

When I try to explain to my mom about not hungry, she thinks it always has to do with her.  It never has to do with her.  Me not eating has to do with other things.  It has to do with the fact I am not hungry.  I feel fat that day.  I feel like I am going to throw up.  All the bad brain intrusive thoughts that creep in.  It is not about my mom.  My world doesn't revolve around her. Yet somehow, she thinks it does.

As graduation for my daughter creeps closer, the more I am struggling with food.  I wish I wasn't.  The joys of trauma and the joys of my life growing up. One day it won't be like this and I know this.  I do try to eat one meal a day.  I need to try and eat smaller meals or snack on fruit all day.  Even the throught of that makes me want to get sick.  One day, one day I know I will get better.