Moreover she is a recovered bulimic and is treating patients now - among them patients with eating disorders.
We were talking on the phone yesterday, and she made one noteworthy remark - a little sentence, with information that seems kinda obvious and makes you wanna say 'duh!' but it is quite profound.
'An eating disorder is basically the disability to handle emotions' - the lack of proper emotional regulation, so to say.
Well, DUH! but coming to think about it - it was never that crystal clear to me.
When do I eat? Well, actually I kinda know - when I wanna stuff my emotions. But what emotions exactly are those? She suggested to try out some sort of eating diary - thinking about what thoughts and emotions that triggered a binge - in order to determine situations and feelings, that hopefully can be handled better in the future. Sounds pretty easy in theory - is f*** hard in practice.
I hate plans, journals, exercises, homework, bah! Anything that people TELL me to do - I usually don't (except for at work, that is). I had a therapist once, who gave me all these neat little exercises... never did them. Hated it.
But I will try this one. I will. Because I CHOOSE to.
Right now - I know what is pulling me down. And I just DO NOT WANT TO CONFRONT THESE FEELINGS!!!
One day before my birthday I called my mother to just ask for some recipe assistance - what the conversation ended up being about was, that she had just brought my sister to the hospital. Not just any hospital but a psychological/psychiatric facility.
My sister and I have been having a difficult relationship since... ever. I don't even remember. And I DON'T WANT to remember. That's the thing. At some point - long after we both left our parents house, and had both lived abroad and in different cities for years, we coincidentally ended up living and studying in the same little town.
And we would only ever see each other, when we bumped into each other accidentally.
The last couple of years, when we were forced to live in the same household for a couple of days - like Christmas - it was just terrible. She is the only person in the world that can drive me as mad and crazy as my dad used to.
When my mum turned 60 this year, we had such a bad fight, it almost got physical. I was pushing the door shut, she was pulling it - I just wanted to get away from her, have my privacy she would not let me. I almost hit her. And I despise physical violence.
After that I cried so hard, I could't breathe. I could't talk. I tried to call a friend to help me out in that situation, she was listening in to my call and blamed me for what I had said...
Luckily - my Mum wasn't there to witness this - it tears her apart that we don't get along already.
Eventually I sucked it up - put on some make-up and went to the birthday party... and started drinking. I never drink when I feel bad (because I EAT) - but it was a party after all - and I made it worth my while.
I left the next day, I left, in pieces, completely worked up, a picture of misery - and decided that this would never happen to me again.
The thing was, I just tried to stay out of her way. I had tried to avoid all confrontation. Because I know with this family, nothing constructive ever comes out if it. But she kept on following me. I went to the bedroom, she needed something from there, I went to the bathroom, of course right then and there she needed it too. I went to the living room, she had to come in there....
Anyways, after that, I started reading more about the (probable) diagnosis of my father, which is a narcisistic personality disorder - and the more I realized - it's the same thing with her. Not as far progressed as with him, but she is getting there...
What I also read was, that basically the best thing one can do, is RUN as fast and far as you can. Because it is hardly treatable, as one symptom is the lack of insight, that one is actually ill.
So - there you go. As hard is it was, I made the decision to stay away from her. Avoid her.
And I could live with that. Mostly.
Now the tables have turned. Apparently she sought treatment herself. Had a serious breakdown, is on medication now and in the hospital for a while. For now apparently in the closed ward even.... That changes things, and makes me have to confront this relationship and the connected feelings - which is almost unbearable.
I tried to think about how things were when we were still kids - and every memory hurts. It tears me apart. And I feel like I am not strong enough to handle these feelings.
If she decides to seek help, actually wants to get better - I should be giving her another chance as my sister, should't I? I know she is suffering from our dysfunctional relationship as well.
I dunno how to handle this. I just don't know.
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