I felt kind of guilty last night as I was reflecting back on yesterday’s post when I said Ryan was the only person in my life to display unconditional love, because that is not entirely true.
I haven’t really discussed my relationship with my uncle on here, partly because he sometimes reads it and I don’t necessarily know how comfortable he is being talked about in a public journal, but he is someone who is very significant in my life and there has been something weighing on my mind a lot concerning our recent lack of connection.
My mom and biological father (John) did not end up working out and up until I was in my early twenties I had never heard from, met or spoken with the man.
He and I made personal contact twice and that was about it so obviously that wasn’t meant to be, but it didn’t really matter to me considering I already had two men I looked to as dads; my Poppy and my uncle.
Since my Poppy didn’t really come into my life until I was a teenager, I have to give a lot of my upbringing credit to the second man on that list who I love more than I can say.
He was kind of like my world because we lived under the same roof for a while and I have bagillion awesome memories of playing games, watching my favorite Disney Afternoon, overall just having a blast, but more importantly of him being my rock during some very difficult times in my life.
We were extremely close for many years and I honestly couldn’t have pictured my life without him.
But lately things have changed.
In fact, in the past year things have been drastically different from the Uncle Dirt and C Mouse J (yes we have corny names for each other) that I so fondly remember, but I know there is a reason.
…it just took Ryan helping bring me back to reality to understand that.
You see after writing yesterday’s post, I discussed with Ryan my appreciation for his patience and presence throughout these amazingly strenuous years and expressed how I felt deserted by almost everyone else in my life.
ED loves to bring up my deep rooted issues of abandonment and how it confirms in my mind that I am completely unworthy as an individual, and so now that it is basically just me and Ryan in this fight, I feel that the rest of my kin have deemed me the loser who will never get better and has given up hope.
Here is the thing:
I don’t really ever ask for help, other than from my poor husband, and I am the master of pushing people away.
Eating disorders and addiction are diseases of isolation. They absolutely thrive on rituals, habits, and destructive behaviors that are most easily performed without the interruptions of others, and I have engaged in those things for so long it has given the signal to just leave me the hell alone.
…And that is the LAST thing I want sometimes.
Sometimes I just want to be and feel loved, and that can only be achieved by me being open and willing to change.
The distortion that my uncle has abandoned me is just about as ridiculous as my thoughts that my thighs expand at the table.
My family still loves me, they just don’t know how to help and hate watching me hurt myself, and only I can bring them back.
It is all up to me.