It was 2002. I was out on disability. Actually, I went out on disability in August of 2001 to go in to that "treatment center" and then I was still out on disability when I had my colon surgery, and I remained on disability to heal from that surgery. I ended up being on disability for one full year.
It was in approximately April of 2002 that I fully realized that my mother had problems, and that I needed to get away from her and my father, and that my mother still had an emotional control over me. I knew that I had to discontinue talking to my mother for my own well-being. I told her over the phone that I loved her but I needed some time to work on myself. It was sooooo very hard on me to do that.
It was during that same month that I started talking to my sister. My sister and I hadn't talked for years, as there was this division in my family, and there still is, to this day. My sister was and had been very close to my biological father, and she didn't talk to my mother. As for me, it was in reverse. I did not talk to my biological father, but I was talking to my mother.
As I wrote, it had been years since I had spoken to my sister. I was living in Florida, and she was living in Tennessee with her husband. I got in my car, and drove up to see her. It was after her telling me that my biological father had changed and that he talked about me, that I decided that I would try talking to him. I did so, on the phone. It was uncomfortable, but I talked to him.
Somewhere along the line I started voluntarily seeing yet another therapist. I think it was during 2002 that I started seeing her. She was the 3rd therapist that told me that I shouldn't talk to my mother.
I saw my biological father 2 times. Both times were in 2002. The first time was when he and his wife flew to Tennessee, and we all met there. The second time was when I flew to NY to visit him and his wife for Christmas (my sister and her husband flew to NY as well). What a nightmare that was. I so badly wanted to go home. His wife was literally throwing temper tantrums like a child because he was talking to me and not her. She was yelling and slamming doors. She didn't like me, and I don't care if she does or not, as I don't like her.
My biological father treated me like a child. Perhaps he did so because he missed seeing me grow up, but that was his fault. It was too much for me.
In 2003, I stopped talking to him. I couldn't take him constantly telling me what I "should and shouldn't do". I still had all of my problems, including my anorexia. He would tell me to eat. For anybody that is reading this...if you know somebody that has anorexia, trying to force them to eat is NOT going to fix the problem. Anorexia is a symptom. It's like having the flu. You can take something to help clear up your nose, but you are still going to have the flu, as the problems with your nose is only a symptom of the flu. Sure, fixing your nose will help the problems with your nose, but you are still going to have the flu.
The same thing holds true for anorexia. It's a symptom. There's an underlying root. Most people can't deal with anorexia....they try to come up with a quick fix. I am here to tell you that telling an anorexic to eat, is NOT going to take away their anorexia. And no, a person with anorexia can't eat for "you".
So I started talking to my biological father in 2002, and after proving that it was way to overwhelming and too much for me, I stopped talking to him in 2003. I did continue talking to my sister though.
My anorexia was still running rampant. And all of my other problems were still there...my anxiety, my OCD, my severe depression, my low self esteem. Yet, I sucked it all up, and kept it in and continued working my way up the corporate ladder.
